#boy the way i gasped at this!! the height she gets is fantastic

[decemberelegy]

Julia Sauter, Romania || 3Lz: 5.90BV + 1.69 GOE

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Part 3

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.

Feedback appreciated. 

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  

Remus. Remus, Remus, Remus.

The mad Prince of Notaleveale.

Remus was coming here. Remus was coming to Steveange and if Romulus saw him-

Roman had to leave.

Which was easier said than done; when the streets were crowded with hoards of shoppers and revellers all pressing against him, blocking his path, stealing the air out of his lungs-

“Roman!”

He needed to go. He need to find Virgil and Patton in whatever rooms they’d managed to find, collect his belongings and-

No. That would take too long – he could replace the clothes and books, he already had his sword-

“Roman, what’re you-”

- but he needed his lute. To make any kind of living he had to be able to perform. It was the only thing he was good at and once he’d got away he’d be -

He could do it. He’d run away before. He survived alone, without anyone, he could do it again and-

“Roman! Stop!”

He stopped.

Logan. Heading towards him. But he hadn’t given a time frame and if Roman grit his teeth and pushed past the spike of pain he could start to move again in just a second-

“Wait!”

Dammit.

Roman waited. Fists clenched by his side, until Logan was next to him.

“Roman.”

His chest was tight. His brain wasn’t -wasn’t working right and Logan looked so odd, with his glasses askew and his face flushed – had he been running?

“I thought I saw Patton.” Roman blurted.

It was the first excuse that popped into his head and it was clearly not – not good enough. Logan was frowning at him, a pinched expression, studying him like an experiment and-

Roman hated him, suddenly.

Logan was an upstart swot with ideas above his station and a chip on his shoulder. He poked and prodded and lost them jobs with his terse words and his better than you attitude. He reminded Roman of the tutors who snap at him for his lack of understanding and bark orders for him to recite, repeat, remember, to be better, smarter, stronger: someone worthy of his title.

He reminded him most of all of Julius. His fathers closest advisor, who had been charged with unravelling the Princes’ curses. He was the one who had helped Romulus learn how to push against his curse. He would give him orders that were almost impossible to follow and watch with cold eyes as Romulus struggled to disobey. Together they’d categorised how much pain he could withstand, what orders could be navigated and misinterpreted and which ones he was truly helpless against.

Once, he’d bid Romulus to stand on one leg. And left him there until his muscles started to cramp and shake, waiting to see if gravity or the curse was stronger. Romulus had been in tears by the end. Had even wondered, briefly, about complaining to his parents. But is was such a silly, innocuous order compared to other experiments. What had truly upset him was how Julian had just stood there, not speaking, his eyes distant and cold and calculating as he noted down every twitch and whimper from the boy. Even when he circled him, Romulus could feel those eyes boring into the back of his neck like a-

“Princey.”

Roman blinked. Julius’ practice room disappeared, replaced with the sights and sound of the Steveange street. Logan was in front of him and his eyes were far from cold. When he spoke it was with the same gentle tone that Roman had heard him use when Virgil’s worries overwhelmed him or when Patton woke from a nightmare and didn’t know where he was.

“Did the cro- the woman. Did she say something to you?” Logan was holding his hand. Gently but firmly, he tugged at Romans tightly clenched fingers, encouraging them to unfurl. Roman stared uncomprehendingly at the deep crescent marks he’d made in his palm.

Slowly, Logan released his right hand and reached for his left, repeating the process.

Roman felt shame ripple through him.

Logan wasn’t Julius. Logan would never push him so far he broke.

Logan was his friend and Roman has made him worry with his silly behaviour and his slapdash lie. But he could fix it.

He forced a smiled. Flexed his fingers and straightened up his full height. Made a show of looking around him.

“I swear I saw him. Big man, big sword, big smile – he’s hard to mistake!”

Hesitantly, Logan glanced around too before quickly refocusing on Roman.

“Are you sure you –“

“Ah well, the mind plays trick I suppose – must be hunger getting to me, speaking of which…”

Roman reached forward and deftly snatched the bag from Logan's grasp, reaching in blindly and shoving the first pastry he found into his mouth.

“Mmmm so good!” He beamed at Logan with berry stained teeth, flakes of pastry flying through the air. “Aren’t you going to have one?”

Logan stared at him. Roman kept his smile sweet and his eyes clear. He held up the bag and wiggled it enticingly.

Hesitantly, Logan took the bag and selected a tart. Keeping his eyes on the bard the entire time, he ate his treat with much more refinement then Roman had shown. “Holding back?” Roman asked, teasing, “I’ve seen you eat jam before, there’s no point pretending to have table manners now.”

Logan just hmphed but his shoulders relaxed slightly and Roman decided to take that as a victory. “We should get going” Roman said and started walking, Logan easily falling into step beside him.

The streets were crowded enough that none of the sellers seemed to feel the need to call to Roman specifically, and so this time he was free to investigate the stalls he was actually interested in.

But instead he stayed by Logan's side

Logan was a good friend. For all he claimed to lack an understating of emotional nuances he was letting Roman have his space. He’d even distracted him earlier, when his biggest concern had been the a spike of homesickness after meeting their northern customer.

He was nothing like Julius.

Roman was going to miss him so much.

***

Roman kept up his performance of normality all the way back to the main square, where they had agreed to meet the others once their mission was done. The sky was beginning to turn dark by the time they got there, though it was easy enough to navigate from the sheer number of stalls still in operation, each one boasting its own selection of colourful lanterns.

“This is fantastic!” Roman gasped theoretically, spinning on one foot to take in the whole spectacle.

“It’s a fire hazard.” Logan muttered with a frown.

They found Virgil waiting for them by the central fountain. He had manged to find a seat on the fountains edge but was wedged between two young couples who had clearly taken the romantic festival atmosphere to heart. The healer’s shoulders were up by his ears and his cloak was wrapped so tightly around himself it looked constricting. When he saw them he sprang to his feet so quickly he almost knocked one of the young ladies into the water.

“Took you two long enough.”

Roman and Logan glanced at each other.

“Logan got lost-”

“Roman kept wandering off.”

“-We brought you baked goods!”

Virgil took one of the two remaining pastries with minimal grumbling and led them out of the square. They took the north east road, a path that curved its wary upwards into the higher levels of the city. Here the buildings were all built of a blush-pink marble that sparkled in the evening twilight. The streets were wide, with neatly arranged flowerbeds and street lights which had the steady glow of Arkazeii glow lamps rather than the flicker of oil. There were certainly no traders spread out on blankets. Logan looked distinctly unimpressed.

“Was this inn you found an…economical choice?”

“It was a ‘the whole town’s rammed and this was the only place with a room left’ choice.” Virgil snarked “and don’t worry – its one room for all four of us with no breakfast included, if you were worried about getting too… bourgeoisie…or whatever."

Logan raised his hands for peace.

“I’m sure you did the best you could.”

“Well …we were lucky.” Virgil told him, and then glanced over at Roman, his lip twitching.

“Apparently they give discounts to performers.”

***

The inn was certainly a cut above their normal haunts. With brightly painted walls almost obscured by well pruned climbing plants, outdoor seating, and a wrought iron gate leading to spacious stables behind the building.  Even the doors were of better quality then your typical village tavern – made of wood heavy enough to make a satisfying crash when Roman stormed in.

The room was crowded, but Patton really was hard to miss. Roman shoved his way through to the back table where the big man sat waiting. Leaving other customers cursing in his wake.

‘Hey kiddo!’ Patton greeted him with a wide smile “Did you-“

“Key.” Roman snarled.

Patron blinked and him, shock writ large on his face. “Sorry?”

“The key. To my room.  Give it.” Roman snapped. “It is mine right? Since you seem happy to pimp me out in exchange for-“

“Hey!” That would be Virgil. Roman half thought he had left both men behind in his rage after Virgil’s little announcement, but the elf at least seemed to have kept up. He’d reached the table just in time to hear the start of Roman’s rant. “What the hell is your problem Princey?”

“My problem? Oh I’m sorry, I’M not the one signing other people up to sing for their supper without permission Virgil.”

“You like singing for your – we thought you’d want to!”

“Well it would have been nice to have a choice!”

“Virgil. Roman.” That was Logan, it had taken longer for the shorter man to force his way through the crowd but he wasted no time now in inserting himself into Romans business. “whatever this is… it’s not about putting on a show.”

He turned to the other two. Virgil scowling, Patton wide eyed.

“He had an…episode in the market.”

“Excuse me?” Roman shouted.

“Roman, whatever disturbed you, you practically ran away.”

“Well perhaps I had simple grown tired of looking at your face? Had you considered that?”

He turned his back to Logan, rounding on Patton again: “Now, give me the-“

Patton already had his hand out, wrought iron key resting loosely in his palm.

“We’re on the fourth floor.” he said calmly as Roman snatched it from him. “First door once you get up the stairs.” Roman spun on his heel only to find Virgil blocking his path.

“Move.” Roman hissed.

“What is wrong with you?” Roman narrowed his eyes. Virgil looked angry. Looked one second away from telling him to sit down, shut up, stop causing a fuss. He wondered if he could get past him without using his sword.

“I’ll bring you up some food in a bit,” Roman blinked glancing back at Patton, startled. The warrior still hadn’t moved from the table - admittedly no easy task in the cramped corner- and was looking at him calmly.

“I don’t want anything” Roman muttered, sullen.

“But you might later.” Patton smiled at him. Not knowing how to respond Roman turned back to Virgil. The elf glanced between the two, chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, before sighing and stepping to the side. Not fast enough to prevent Roman from knocking his shoulder with his own as he pushed past however.

It wasn’t as satisfying as he hoped.

**

At a guess, the room was normally meant for storage not guests. Two rickety looking beds had been shoved in, so close together they might as well have been one. There was one small table forced between the end of one bed and the wall, with a basin of water perched on top. Someone,  presumably Patton, had organised their bags neatly at the end of the beds. Roman’s was at the far end, closest to the window. Then Patton, then Virgil with Logan closest to the door, next to the only built in shelf where a candle had been left for the night. Roman would be able to wake with the dawn, as he liked to do, and Logan would have light for the longest to stay up and read.

Romans lute was not on the floor with his pack.  Instead he found in had been placed on the bed itself, propped up on his pillow, away from any potential harm.

Whatever righteous anger he had been able to hang on too as he stomped upstairs dropped out of him now like a stone from a cliff. Without it, the despair he had felt in the market came rushing back. He sank down right there by the door, bringing his knees up to his chest as he’d done in the forest. As he used to do in Julius’ room.

He almost wished Julius was here – at least he would tell him not to cry.

The through was so absurd he let out a weak snotty laugh and buried his head in his arms.

He needed to leave Steveange.

He didn’t want to leave them.

But they had planned to stay for a week at least, hopefully longer.

Convince them to leave early? Except he couldn’t explain why. Find them a job out of the city? How? When the coronation and accompanying celebrations were over it would be easy enough to find a traveling group in need of a little extra protection, but for now no one was leaving.

They’d been excited to come. Virgil want to try the city baths, famed for their heated pools and soothing water. Logan had been talking about the library for half the trip. Patton was just excited to explore the city itself, meet the people and try the food. He loved when they stopped in busier towns but it was a rarity.

There was no way Roman would be able to convince them to leave just because he wanted to.

Roman did what other people wanted. It was all he knew how to do.

And even if he had a convincing reason…well, they probably didn’t want him around anymore anyway.

He scrambled up, grabbed the first pillow he could reach and buried his face in it to muffle a scream of frustration which turned into more sobs.

He was so pathetic.

Since he’d left home, he’d kept his memories, kept Romulus, buried as deep as he could. But now it was like Romulus was just under his skin. Ready to jump out If he let himself slip. With all his anger and hurt and fear.

Romulus was a liability.

Romulus was a murder. Or would be. If Roman couldn’t think.

He stepped over to his pack, still hugging the pillow to him like a teddy bear, and started to review the contents. He didn’t need to take all of this with him, surely? Half of it wasn’t even his, their belongings having become more and more intertwined the longer they travelled.

The healing salve was rightfully Virgil’s, the soft shirt he wrapped himself in during cold nights was actually Patton’s, at least one of the notebooks belonged to Logan.

He opened the nearest book to check, but instead of Logan's neat lists his own sloppy scrawl stared back at him. Song lyrics and passing thoughts and, on the next page, an unfinished sketch. It was of Virgil, hand covering his mouth but eyes betraying his laughter. The other pages, he knew contained scribbles of all three of them. He flicked back and found his favourite, the page marked with a yellowed leaf he couldn’t remember picking up.

It showed all three in one sketch. Logan, sleeping and so looking years younger, head pillowed on Virgil’s thigh. Virgil was turned towards Patton, rolling his eyes as if to say ‘can you believe this?’ but making no move to actually shift scholar off him. Patton was laughing, he was the most well rendered of the three figures, you could almost see his shoulders shaking.

Roman looked at it for a moment. Then slowly replaced the book mark and closed it. This would have to come with him.

A knock at the door startled him so badly he dropped the book, which bounced under the bed.

“Kiddo? Can I come it?”

Fuck.

Patton. He had -he had been so, so unbelievably rude to Patton.

His first instinct, which was admittedly not a good one, was to jump out of the window.

Roman took a deep breath. Focusing on the mundane task of sorting items had cleared his head somewhat. He was still a little shaky but his eyes were dry. He knew what would be expected of him now - Romulus had spent most of his life apologising.

“Come in.” he croaked and stood, squaring his shoulders.

Patton entered alone, two bowls of something that smelled delicious cradled in his arms.

Roman ignored the sudden spike of hunger – the fruit tart seemed a long time ago now- and bowed from the waist. He kept his back ramrod straight and bent low enough that it quickly became uncomfortable. It was the kind of bow Romulus would only have given his father or elder brother.

“Patton, I owe you my most humble apology I-“

“Roman I am so sorry.”

“The way I spoke to you was the height of disrespect and unprin- ungentlemanly behaviour I – wait, what?”

He straightened up and looked at Patton, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“Roman, I – wait hold on.” Patton handed him one of the bowls and turned to close the door. “Do you mind if we sit?” he asked and Roman nodded, smiling despite himself. Patton was the politest person he had ever met.

Once they were both seated, Patton’s bad leg stretched out in front of him, Patton looked at him seriously.

“Roman you were right downstairs. We should never have promised you’d perform without asking you first - no it's true!”

But Roman was already shaking his head. “Patton you were fine, you know I love singing! I was the one acting like, like some sort of beast I-“

“I know you love singing but that doesn’t mean we get to pick and choose when-“

“But I wanted to perform as much as possible whilst we were here- I’d told you that!”

“-especially after travelling all week. We were, er, presumptuous.”

Roman stared at him.

“Unlike this soup, which is pre – scrumptious.”

Patton beamed at him. Roman groaned.

“Anyway I’m sorry for letting you stew-“ he held up the bowl again waggling his eyebrows “- up here for so long, but we needed to make things right with the landlord.”

Roman, who had been starting to relax under the force of two puns in a row, tensed again. “What things?”

Patton smiled. “We paid the difference – you don’t have to perform! Uhh unless you want to of course, but it’s your choice.” He nodded decisively whilst Roman gaped.

“b-but isn’t it expensive?”

Patton just shrugged, “Well, the last job paid well didn’t it?”

“Not that well!”

“Aw c’mon kiddo, what’s the point of having money if we don’t spend it? Right?”

Not knowing what to say. Roman shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth without tasting it. Guilt turning the meal to ash.

“Patton…how many days did you pay for?”

“The rest of the week! And there’s still enough to have some fun at the markets, don’t worry, we can all have a – hey!” Patton put his bowl down, shuffling closer to put one warm hand on Roman’s knee.” Roman, hey kiddo, buddy what’s wrong?”

Roman found, quite to his surprise, that he was trembling. He followed Patton's example and put the bowl carefully on the floor before digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I…can’t Pat. I can’t stay here. I have to go.”

“Go?” Patton looked at him with confusion clear in his big brown eyes, “But why kiddo? You don’t like the inn?”

Roman groaned shaking his head “not the inn. The city. I’m not – I can’t – if ‘m here it- “ he let out a whine of frustration, hating his curse heavy tongue.

Never tell anyone about our conversation.

“I just-“ My brother is coming and if I see him I-

“If – “ my brother is coming and he won’t be alone. There are people who know who I really am and I –

“Okay.”

Romans head snapped up.

Patton still had a frown on his face but when he looked at Roman his eyes were as serious as Roman had ever seen them. “If you can’t tell me the details it’s fine but-“ he lent forward, “Roman, are you safe here?”

Without breathing, Roman shook his head. No.

Patton nodded and squeezed his knee. “Well then of course we’re not staying.” Hesitantly, he lifted his arm and rested one large hand on the back of Romans neck. Forcing their eyes to meet. “Whatever it is – we will help you. You know that don’t you?”

Embarrassingly, Roman felt his eyes filling with tears.

“We’ll leave in the morning.” Patton told him. Patton stood up, taking Romans congealing stew and his own empty bowl and headed to the door. He paused, one hand on the door handle. “Everything’s going to be okay kiddo.” he smiled, “We love you.”

And he was gone.

For a long moment Roman sat frozen, staring at the closed door.

“Yeah.” He agreed, eventually. “Right.”

Except. They didn’t. Not really.

They loved Roman.

Roman had screamed and insulted them and instead of kicking him out of their group like they had every right to do, they had given up what little money they had just to make Roman feel better.

And Roman was a lie.

Roman was Romulus with a bad haircut. And Romulus was everything they weren’t’ – a stupid, pampered, prince with no power or pride.

Patton might be willing to upheaval their lives just on Roman's say so, But Logan and Virgil were more practically minded. They would want explanations. Might even demand them.

Never tell anyone about your curse. Remove yourself from anyone who might ask you about it and put as much distance between you as you can.

Romulus was a liability.

One they shouldn’t have to deal with.

He strapped his lute to his back and secured his dagger in a hidden pocket that Virgil had taught him how to sow.  Everything else he left, including, after a moments hesitation, his sword. He had been training Logan to use it, on and off, and whilst the scholar was no solider he was improving. At the very least, it would be some source of protection until they could hire another swordhand for their travels.

The climbing plants he had noticed on the way in made getting down from the window much easier than he had originally anticipated. Dusting off his hands he skirted the building, taking care to avoid the large windows of the main hall, until he found the entrance to the the stables.

He wasn’t proud of it, but he had stolen before when he first left home. He would have to again now in order to put some distance between the city and himself.

It wasn’t his worst plan.

And it might even have worked, had they not already been waiting for him.

When Romulus was eleven, and had taken to following the young Marquis de Orenlla around like a love sick puppy. Even now, under the weak light of a covered lantern and with almost fifteen years distance from the memories, he still recognised him instantly.

“Good evening, your highness.” The Marquis smile was as dazzling as he remembered, although his eyes were colder.

He had no army with him, and no weapon that Roman could see. But then, why would he need one?

“Come with me.”

Roman went.

part 4

[marshmallowgoop]

Magic Kaito vs. Magic Kaito 1412

I’m not sure if I ever finished all twelve episodes, but I first watched at least a handful of the original Magic Kaito specials about a decade ago, and I remember really enjoying them. Superhero stories are among my favorites, and while both Magic Kaito and its sister series Detective Conan overlap with the genre in various ways—after all, Conan’s glasses were literally inspired by Clark Kent—Kaito’s flashy costume alone pushes his adventures more in that direction. So, maybe it’s no wonder that, back in the day, I kind of considered Magic Kaito my preferred series of the two.

Recently, I’ve got a reignited interest in the DCMK world (evidently). And it’s not a bad time to have a reignited interest, because English-language accessibility for this universe is much better now than it was ten years ago. Conan’s getting new movie dubs, and Kaito’s newer, expanded TV series, Magic Kaito 1412, is freely available on Crunchyroll. Obviously, I had to give it a shot.

I wasn’t impressed. Far from it. I chalked up my old fondness to nostalgia goggles. Kid the Phantom Thief is simply more enjoyable in Detective Conan than in his own thing, I figured.

But a few weeks ago, those old specials went up on Crunchyroll Germany. And it took me a while, but I finally decided to figure out the truth, once and for all. Have my tastes totally changed, or has Magic Kaito anime not always been Like That?

I was impressed. I watched all of one episode, and I enjoyed it so much more than 1412.

Which surprised me! Just examining the first episodes of both series, they’re honestly practically identical. They cover the same story beats almost exactly. Kaito’s introduction is even consistently him being disgusting to Aoko—behavior that, nauseatingly, convinced me that Mineta of the My Hero Academia series would actually be adored if he were conventionally attractive.

But as it turns out, that’s relevant to why the original Magic Kaito strikes me as far more palatable. Kaito’s actions towards Aoko are still indefensible in the old special, but he doesn’t repeat them on his teacher, and there are repercussions. Unlike in 1412, Kaito doesn’t get away with his harassment because his teacher finds him charming; in fact, Aoko even later notes that he “should be thankful [he] [wasn’t] expelled,” implying that he was indeed punished harshly for what he did. While Aoko assures Kaito’s mother that he didn’t get in trouble in 1412, in the original special, it’s clear that being cute isn’t enough to give him a free pass for disrupting class and being gross.

Further, in a more general sense, the tone of both series is of course goofy overall, but the characters in the old Magic Kaito feel much more like human beings than the cartoonish caricatures portrayed in 1412. A scene especially missing from the new show is a quiet one where Kaito and Aoko walk together after school. With the sun hanging low in the sky and a sparkling river flowing beside them, Kaito expresses his disappointment in how his magic trick didn’t exactly end as planned. “I guess I need to work on my finale,” he bemoans, but Aoko is more concerned with why he feels the need to pull these ridiculous stunts in the first place.

She quickly gets her answer. One of the exuberant little kids who had run by them earlier falls over and cries, and Kaito doesn’t hesitate to cheer him up with magic. And Aoko watches. She sees the way the little boy’s face lights up. She sees how he runs off again with renewed energy. And she smiles. She doesn’t say it, but the audience gets the message.

Oh. That’s why Kaito’s a magician. That’s why Aoko walks by his side.

I won’t claim to fully comprehend Kaito’s character. I haven’t read the manga, it’s been years since I’ve seen more than the first episode of these old specials, I’ve only watched about 20% of 1412, and for as much as I’ve been posting about Detective Conan lately, I’m (maybe humorously) about the farthest thing from current and would only be able to tell you about Kid’s first appearance in that show. But when Kaito returns to his empty home in the original series, and when he announces that he’s there to nobody at all, and when he welcomes himself back, all with a smile and a cheerfulness to his tone, I deeply feel his loneliness. I feel the weight of his lost father. I feel that, even if some of his tricks are inappropriate and inexcusable, he does them because he wants to make people laugh. He doesn’t want anyone to feel as sad and alone as he’s felt.

Maybe I missed it, but I didn’t get any of that from Magic Kaito 1412.

And they’re small things, they really are. But they make a world of difference. Even Jii, who really only becomes more than just a mysterious figure in the episode’s closing minutes, feels more like a tangible person in the special. He loudly gasps for breath after performing the magical, fantastical feats of his old friend, and it’s such a tiny, minuscule detail, but when watching, I feel it so strongly. I literally understand the strain of Toichi’s loss on Jii, too.

Beyond narrative decisions—and there are others that I much prefer in the old series, such as how Kaito links his failed magic trick to his father’s “poker face” philosophy, and how Kaito uses a successful variation of his earlier trick to escape the police as Kid the Phantom Thief—I also just simply prefer the original art style. Magic Kaito 1412 is slick and shiny and modern, but in being so, it strikes me as much more generic than the older-styled 2010 special. Shot compositions also feel more powerful in the first anime; just consider how differently the two series handle what is arguably the emotional height of the entire episode:

[Image descriptions: A series of four comparison images examining how the 2010 Magic Kaito series and the 2014 Magic Kaito 1412 portray the same sequence of events. In both, Kaito asks Jii, “Dad was murdered?! Was my dad... a thief? Was he Kid the Phantom Thief?” Kaito then says, “I see...” End image descriptions.]

While the dialogue is essentially unchanged, the old show’s use of close-ups expresses the tension of the scene spectacularly. You can see the terror in Kaito’s eyes. You can see how the thought of his father being a thief is so distressing that merely asking the question is painful and heartwrenching. You can see the sweat on Kaito’s face. You can see in great detail how much he struggles to grapple with this new truth.

Magic Kaito 1412 is significantly more distanced. And there’s power in that decision, too. The revelation is overwhelming. It’s hard to take. Kaito may want to get away from it, but he can’t.

However, I resonate more with how the original series handles the moment. Seeing how everything affects Kaito way up close speaks much more to me���and there are still some fantastic long shots, too:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from the original Magic Kaito series. Both are distanced long shots. In the first image, Kaito and Jii kneel on the ground. Kaito’s hands are on Jii’s shoulders. In the second image, Kaito stands, facing away from Jii, while Jii remains on the ground in shame. They wear identical outfits in both images, and their capes blow in the wind. End image descriptions.]

Gotta love those capes.

Overall, my feelings on Magic Kaito as a whole could probably be best described as somewhat mixed. And I’m kind of new here, and I don’t even know when it’s appropriate to use the #dcmk tag, so I of course don’t have the slightest clue about how popular or unpopular my opinion that the 2010 Magic Kaito series ranks above 2014′s Magic Kaito 1412 is. 

But skipping down memory lane and revisiting the old show was pleasantly surprising. Maybe my affection for Magic Kaito will never reach the highs it once had all those years ago, but it was almost comforting to find that my tastes haven’t changed all that much—rather, it’s Magic Kaito itself that’s changed.

[musehyacinthus]

Shoot Your Shot: Part 1

This is my first published work in over a decade, and I'm so excited to share it with everyone! Dash is my oldest and most treasured oc, and I'm so happy that I finally have the confidence to allow everyone else a peek into her life. This was originally supposed to be a short one shot, but is now going to be a 2(?) part series. I will hopefully be posting more work in the future that explores more of her background, as well as introducing some of my other oc's.

It was June, and the air was warm and sticky, which wasn’t ideal; the humidity made Dash’s hair all frizzy, and it always seemed to happen on a day when she wanted to make meringue.

This morning in particular, her eyes snapped open, bolting upright in her bed with a gasp. She had been having the most amazing dream, in which she was about to take a bite of the biggest, most beautiful lemon meringue pie she had ever seen. However, just as the fork reached her mouth, she woke up, returning to the sad reality where she did not have a mouth watering dessert in front of her. She smacked her lips, trying to recall what the pie had tasted like, but it was already gone. Tragic.

It was then that it dawned on her that she had the ingredients to bring that beautiful pie to life in the kitchen. In an instant, she rushed to her bedroom window. Maybe, if she was lucky, the weather would be on her side today. She pried open the window, a warm, thick breeze blowing against her skin. She groaned. No good; meringue wouldn’t peak in the humidity. No matter how good at baking someone is, they’re no match for mother nature. Pursing her lips, she pulled the latch shut, deciding to settle for banana bread muffins instead.

A couple of hours later, the muffins were nestled in her bag as she hopped off the trolley that crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Thanks!” Dash chirped to the driver, exchanging waves with the man before she bounced away, not noticing the large, gray clouds looming on the horizon.

She clicked her tongue rhythmically as she walked, matching the beat to her steps and scanning the docks for her friend, Twitchy. The purpose of her trip had been to return a book he lent her, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A group of four other teenagers had gathered nearby at the edge of the docks, crouching in a large circle on the ground. Curious, she inched forward, craning her neck to see what was going on.

As she approached, she could see they were surrounding a long piece of brown string that was tied in a circle, surrounding a cluster of marbles.

Her heart skipped a beat. She was fantastic at marbles! She always kept her own pouch on her in case of a marble emergency, which happened more often than one might think.

Now that she was closer, Dash knew the kids to be Newsies like herself from her other visits to the borough. Among the group was a short, round faced girl with glasses and hundreds of freckles who Dash remembered was named Abigail. Her curly, brown hair was pulled back into two braids, her eyebrows knit with frustration as she gazed down at the ring. There was also a pale, skinny boy with sandy, blond hair and brown eyes that Dash didn’t recognize, and a tall boy with broad shoulders and dark hair standing just behind Abigail and watching the game intently. The way he hovered over her, he seemed almost like a bodyguard. What was his name again? Something with a chuh sound…. Chuck? No. Chatter! That was it! She remembered now, she found it funny the first time she learned it because Chatter really didn’t say very much at all. He was a friendly enough guy, but he seemed to like observing and listening more than he liked talking. He and Abigail seemed to always be around one another when Dash saw them, their significant height difference almost comical. Finally, Dash’s eyes rested on the figure closest to her with their back turned. Their brown cap was pulled down low on their face as they knelt on the ground, but she could recognize those bright red suspenders anywhere. He was at an angle where she could just see that was holding a red shooter in his hand, weaving it through his fingertips thoughtfully.

Dash’s feelings toward Spot were… mixed; she could never stop herself from riling him up, and the two would often butt heads due to their wildly different personalities. Spot took himself so seriously, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why. It frustrated her that he tried to make himself seem so high and mighty, and she knew the kids in Brooklyn respected him, but as far as she could tell, he was just… some guy. The way he constantly tried to have the attention of those around him was so silly, and just made him come off as a bit of a show off.

She hadn’t seen him do anything particularly intimidating, but the Newsies back in Manhattan would often go on and on about how nervous he made them. She just failed to see any real reason for their apprehension. Then again, she really hadn’t been living in New York all that long; his reputation had been around for a good while. Maybe they all knew something she didn’t.

In any case, as far as she was concerned, he was just a kid who wanted attention. That was fine, of course, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to tease him. It was fun to challenge him, and she found herself getting extremely competitive in his presence. Of course he wasn’t going to back down from a challenge.

Dash would come to Brooklyn every once in a while to exchange books with Twitchy, who she knew was pretty close with Spot. He never seemed to show any signs of being intimidated either, and was an even bigger culprit than she was when it came to pushing Spot’s buttons. He would go to great lengths to make him look silly, like the time he filled Spot’s pockets with bread crumbs and got the neighborhood pigeons to follow him around all day. There was also a time when he dressed up in the same clothes as Spot, and had bribed the other Brooklyn kids with candy to pretend that he was the real Spot for an entire day.

Dash watched as the boy she hadn’t recognized leaned forward, closing one eye and taking a deep breath. He flicked his thumb, his yellow shooter zipping forward and smacking into another large, purple marble. Both marbles rolled over the string, coming to a rest on the other side. The boy whooped with delight, and Abigail let out a cry of astonishment.

“That was a cheap shot, Sonny!” Abigail crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring daggers at the boy. “You know I just got that marble yesterday!”

“It ain’t my fault I got good aim!” Sonny grinned, shrugging and walking over to claim the purple shooter for himself. “Sorry, toots.”

Dash thought Sonny didn’t look all that sorry.

Abigail huffed, sitting back and crossing her legs.

“Fine, whatever. Your turn, Spot.”

Spot, who had been silent the entire time, was already leaning down to shoot his own red marble. He extended his arm, appearing as still as a statue as he aimed the little glass ball toward the center.

At that moment, an idea popped into Dash’s brain. Slowly, without making a sound, she crept up behind him, biting her lip to keep herself from giggling and giving herself away. Finally, just as Spot started to release the shooter, Dash exclaimed “HI, SPOT!”

The boy let out a rather undignified yelp and his hand jerked, the marble rolling into the ring and bouncing gently on one of the mibs. It hardly budged, and Spot’s shooter halted beside it. The other three Brooklyn newsies broke out into laughter, and Spot’s shoulders tensed, turning his head slowly to glare up at Dash.

Dash just smiled, waving down at him.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said hi.”

Spot grunted and rose to his feet, his hazel eyes narrowing at Dash. Despite his intense stare, her expression remained unchanged.

“I heard ya, I heard ya.” He grumbled, glancing her up and down. “You messed me up, y’know.”

“Golly, did I do that?” she feigned surprise, her eyebrows raising. “Whoopsie daisies. Can I play?”

“We’re in the middle of a game.”

“Actually, it’s just endin’!” Sonny chimed in from behind him with a smile. Spot glanced back and shot Sonny a look, who quickly clammed up.

“Aw, that’s okay.” Dash shrugged, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “It’s no big deal, Spot’s just afraid that I’ll beat him at his own game.” she looked back to Spot, and she swore she saw his eye twitch.

“No. I am not.” He replied firmly.

“Are too.”

“Am. Not.”

“Are tooooo.”

“NO, I am-” Spot’s voice had grown higher pitched in the heat of the moment, but he quickly paused, giving a sideways glance at his Newsies who were all staring at them. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, his voice now sounding much lower than it had a moment ago.

“Fine.” He said cooly.  “Fine, you wanna play? We’ll play. Clear the ring, Sonny.”

In a matter of moments, the ring was reset, thirteen mibs resting in the center in a cross. Dash fished her sack of marbles out from her bag, a little blue pouch that her father had fashioned for her out of some spare fabric. She had about a dozen shooters she had collected over the years, but there was a very special one she wanted to use for this occasion.

She rummaged around in the pouch for a moment before pulling up a shooter that was minty green and blue with little white swirls. Sonny whistled, leaning in to look at it.

“That’s real pretty.” He mused. Dash beamed, tossing it up in the air once and catching it.

“Thanks! It’s the first marble I ever won back when I was younger.”

Abigail raised an eyebrow. “You sure ya wanna use that thing, then? Seems pretty special to be usin’ in a game. Don’t wanna end up like me and have it taken from ya.” She glared pointedly at Sonny, who only grinned back at her innocently with large, doe like eyes.

Dash nodded. “Oh, yeah! This guy is my go-to shooter, he’s real lucky!” She held it up proudly, admiring the way the colorful swirls glistened in the light. “I’ve never lost a match with him!”

Spot was also staring at the marble, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Huh. Oh, well, it’s your funeral, girlie.” He stretched his arms over his head, shifting his gaze back to her. “You better say your goodbyes now, ‘cause that thing’s gonna be in my pocket real soon.”

Dash stuck out her tongue at him. She wasn’t nervous; her lucky shooter had never failed her before, and this game would be no different.

The two knelt on opposite ends of the circle, and the others sat off to the side as spectators. Spot motioned his hand toward her.

“Ladies first.”

Dash positioned herself in front of the ring with her shooter. Without any delay, she flung her marble forward, grinning at the satisfying clack it made as it smacked into one of the mibs, sending two of them rolling out of the ring. Dash whooped loudly, and Spot continued to watched in silence with a serious expression.

“Nice!” Abigail grinned.

Her shooter was still within the circle, which meant she was able to shoot her marble again from the inside the ring. She hummed, hopping to the other side and returning to her knees to the left of Spot. As she reached for her shooter, her shoulder briefly brushed against his. Spot jumped as if he had been shocked, scowling and moving a few inches to his right. Dash barely even noticed him, focused on finding the right angle to shoot her marble. She flicked it once more and the marble struck another mib, but it didn’t have as much force as the first hit. It rolled a few inches and stopped just before reaching the edge. Dash shrugged, flopping backward onto her behind. “Oh well. Your turn.”

Spot nodded, adjusting his cap. Dash saw him glance over at the other kids for a fleeting second, then returned his gaze to the marbles. He cracked his knuckles loudly, which Dash found rather unnecessary, and flexed his hands at his sides. He scooped up his red shooter, assuming the position. His eyebrows knit together and he bit his lip.

This was ridiculous; the longer she waited for him to make his move, the more restless she felt. She drummed her hands on her lap as she waited. After what felt like centuries, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can’t you go any faster?” She huffed.

“I’m focusin’.”

“Focus faster!” she urged.

Spot’s jaw clenched, still not looking at Dash. He exhaled, finally releasing his marble. It hit two mibs at once, sending them flying out of the circle in opposite directions. Sonny cheered loudly and Abigail nodded with approval while Chatter clapped politely beside her. The marble stopped right where it hit its mark, meaning it was still in play.

Spot grinned, clearly pleased with himself as he turned his attention back to Dash. She clapped, nodding slowly.

“That was great, yeah! Hey, at this rate, maybe we’ll have a winner by Thanksgiving!” she teased. Abigail let out a cough that Dash could have sworn was a laugh.

Spot’s grin snapped back to a scowl, squinting hard at her. Dash smiled back. Sometimes it was just too easy.

Spot closed his eyes briefly, regaining his composure. When he opened his eyes again, the look in his eyes had changed.

“Oh, I ain’t movin’ fast enough for ya?” he asked, stretching out his arms and making a big show of moving into shooting position once more. Slowly, he leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. “That’s no problem. I can go faster.”

He set his eyes on Dash’s lucky shooter, and before she could even process what was happening, he shot his red marble straight for it.

Dash’s eyes widened in horror, and she gasped as the shooter crashed into her minty blue sphere, causing it to roll right out of the ring.

Her heart sank, realizing what he had just done. She looked up at him in dismay and was met with a smug smile.

“Oh, would ya look at that? Seems like ya lucky marble ain’t so lucky no more.” He snickered. “Oopsie daisies.”

The other Brooklyn kids appeared stunned at what their leader had done, exchanging nervous glances with one another. Sure, he had joked about taking the marble, but it didn’t seem like they thought he would actually take it.

“Spot…” Abigail started, but Spot ignored her, plucking the shooter from the ground and rolling it across his palm as he stood.

“You were right, Abby. She shoulda listened to your advice, don’t’cha think?”

For a minute, Dash was speechless. Did that really just happen? Was he being serious right now?

Her shock quickly turned to rage. She rose and stormed up to him, lunging toward the marble.

“No! That’s not fair, you can’t-”

“What exactly ain’t fair here?” Spot interrupted, snatching it away and holding her prized shooter high in the air. “I ain’t no cheater, ask anyone here! I won this here marble fair and square!” He looked over at the others for confirmation, daring any of them to argue. “You all saw it, right? No rules broken, yeah?”

Reluctantly, the three nodded in agreement, which only fueled Dash’s anger. She grunted and jumped toward his raised hand in an attempt to grab it, but he stepped back, barking out a laugh.

“Better luck next time, short stuff!”

Dash grunted, jumping up and down as she tried snatch her marble. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you! You’re barely three inches taller than me at most!”

“Still, it’s three inches you ain’t got!” he snickered. “I’m playin’ the game the way it’s s’posed to be played! When ya shoot your opponent’s marble outta the ring, you claim it! That’s the rule!”

They danced around one another, Dash hopping up toward his hand and Spot pulling away at the very last second. Dash could feel her cheeks burning. She grit her teeth and let out a loud groan. “Why are you being such a jerk?!” She exclaimed, taking another swing just as he jumped out of the way.  “You only shot at my marble to be mean!”

“I’m the jerk?” He scoffed, side stepping when she tried to snatch it again. “You’ve been pickin’ on me this whole time! ”

“Was not!”

“Were too!”

“WAS NOT!”

“WERE TOO!”

“Hey, now,” Chatter spoke up for the first time, stepping forward. His voice was deep and soft. “Maybe we should all calm down…”

But Dash didn’t want to calm down. She was fuming, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Logically, she knew she shouldn’t be getting so worked up over a silly, little marble, but she couldn’t control it; she was livid! How dare he take something from her that he knew was special to her! How dare he hold it over her head and taunt her with it! The way he smirked down at her made her stomach bubble with anger. She wasn’t going to let him get away with this.

She lunged once more, but this time, she wasn’t aiming at his hand.

She reached for his head, plucking off the brown cap from his head in one quick swipe and scurrying backward with a triumphant “HA!”

Spot blinked in surprise, his free hand instinctively moving toward his head. His caramel hair was now in disarray, falling in wisps across his face.

“Ha ha. Very funny, girlie, give it back.”

“No.”

“Seriously? Dash, c’mon.”

Dash was already scooping up her bag of belongings and throwing it over her shoulder, a wild grin on her face. It was juvenile, sure, but it was the only thing she could think to do in the heat of the moment. She offered him a quick salute, then bolted from the scene of the crime, leaving a flabbergasted Spot behind her.

She was already halfway down the block before she heard an enraged bellow behind her:

“DAAAAASH!”

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

End of Part 1

[hurricanery]

What’s a Soulmate?

Hi! This is my first Amelink Fic. Completely AU//Little snippets of ‘What if Link and Amelia had met at a different time in their lives?’ Also OOPS THIS IS REALLY LONG. TW: implied drug use.

_______ Atticus Lincoln is 9 years old when he discovers what a soulmate is. Not by definition exactly, but the feeling is there.

It’s a sunny afternoon in mid-august, one of the last few days of freedom before school starts up again. Few of the last chances Link will get to spend all day outside, practicing his baseball pitch with his dad.

Earlier that day, Link and his father had noticed moving trucks line up across the street. Right in front of the house where Mrs. Edelstein lived before she was put in that nursing home.

“Looks like someone’s finally moving in,” Link’s dad had said.

‘Good,’ Link had thought. No more Mrs. Edelstein and no more apples on halloween.

_______

The two are just finishing up their batting practice when a minivan pulls into the driveway of Mrs. Edelstein’s old house. A woman steps out of the driver’s side first, before chaos ensues. Both sliding doors of the minivan fly open at the same time, before a handful of young voices are heard. Link watches from afar and counts one by one as they pile out of the car.

A taller, teenaged girl and a dark-haired boy around the same age immediately sprint toward the house, the girl yelling something about ‘dibs on the biggest bedroom!’

“Nancy! Derek! Slow down!” the children’s mother yells after them. The woman sighs as two more young girls jump out of the car and start running toward the house. “Come on, Amy,” the mother speaks again. Slowly, another girl appears from the car. Immediately, Link notices the age difference between this girl and the other kids that had just disappeared into the house. She seems much closer to his age. Link is amused by her more reluctant pace, compared to her siblings. He watches as the girl’s mother begins to practically drag her toward the house.

“Why don’t you go say hi, Link? Introduce yourself?” His dad’s voice officially halts him from observing the family across the street.

Link shakes his head. “Maybe later,” he says, his gaze drifting back to the house, where he can see the children running around through the front windows.

_______

It’s a little bit after 7pm now, and Link and his dad have just finished dinner. It’s still light outside, a nice summer night, and Link wanders back outside to hopefully curve his boredom.

There’s not much to do in his backyard, at least not by himself. He feels a tug in his chest when he thinks back to earlier. The way he was completely enticed by the big, rowdy family across the street.

He wanders to the front lawn in search of his baseball mitt when he sees her. The youngest girl from earlier. She’s sitting cross-legged by herself on the sidewalk in front of her new home, focusing deeply on the pavement beneath her, sidewalk chalk in hand. Her long dark hair is pulled back into a braid, but despite that, she seems to be pushing her bangs out of her face every few seconds.

Link is a pretty shy kid and he knows that. Even a little timid. But there’s something about this girl that’s piqued his interest. He really wants to know her, and to be her friend, he thinks.

So he gains up enough courage to cross the street, not before checking both ways for cars first. He approaches the house slowly, but the girl doesn’t seem to notice his presence. Her head remains turned down, focusing on what she’s doing.

“Um hi my name is Atticus Lincoln and I live across the street,” the sentence comes out in a rush, words stringing together completely. And maybe he should have made his entrance more known, he thinks, as he watches the girl almost fall back from where she was sitting with her knees tucked underneath her.

“Shit, you scared me,” the girl gasps, blue eyes wide.

And Link is stunned. Because that is not what he expected to hear. His eyes are now just as wide as hers “Y-you’re allowed to say that?"

The girl just stares at him for a second, before something seems to click in her brain, and then she’s laughing with her head thrown back. Real, genuine laughter. The kind that Link has only seen on sitcoms, or when his aunts and uncles drink too many adult beverages at family barbecues.

He loves the sound of it. It’s making him laugh, too. "You have a funny laugh,” he tells her.

“You have a funny name,” she retorts.

“Hey,” he frowns, but it doesn’t last as he can’t help but laugh. “Well what’s your name, then?”

“Amelia.”

“Amelia?” He repeats, dumbfounded. Partly because he’s never really heard the name before. It sounds sharp. And he thinks it matches perfectly. Especially with the quick and witty words falling from her laughing mouth.

“Yeah, ya dummy. Have you never heard that name before?”

And Link, for the first time in his life, is at a loss for words. Because she is something else.

“Anyway, Atticus, do you wanna play a game?”

_______

Link is 16 years old when he discovers that high school is the bane of his existence.

Link is a decently popular kid. Apparently. A favorite student in the eyes of most teachers. A friendly face for most of his classmates. A star baseball player and a name well known in the small community. But he doesn’t always see himself the way that others do, most of the time.

He has to wear this thing called deodorant all of a sudden, sometimes his face breaks out, he is nervous almost all of the time, and on top of all that, yesterday he found out he’s the only one in his friend group who’s never kissed a girl.

He feels pressured, mostly by the fact that girls in his grade are so intimidating.

It’s friday morning and he’s running kind of late for school. But he knows that doesn’t really matter. Because as late as he is, he knows Amelia will be running even later. And he’s supposed to meet her in 2 minutes to walk to school. Like they do every day.

He wanders outside and paces the sidewalk in front of her house, waiting for her front door to swing open and for her to come barreling outside as if getting ready for school is the most hectic experience.

And like clockwork, there she is. Flying down the front steps of her porch while simultaneously shrugging on her backpack and flinging her hair up into a messy ponytail. Her face lights up as soon as she sees him, but she falters just as quick, as she almost falls facedown on the sidewalk.

“You didn’t have time to tie your shoes this morning, Ames?”

"I don’t have time for a lot of things, Link.” She rolls her eyes.

“Well maybe if you woke up on time-”

“That’s impossible.”

“Go to bed at a decent time?”

“How do you know I don’t go to bed at a decent time?” She smirks at him, a common occurrence. Link’s pulse quickens every time she pulls the mischievous grin.

He blushes before he responds. “Your bedroom is literally right across from mine. Your light is on until at least 3am.”

Amelia just giggles. That fantastic, contagious giggle that Link has heard everyday for the last 6 years.

He nods to himself, knowing fully well that Amelia’s homework routine typically takes place between midnight and 3am. He doesn’t understand how she does it. She saves everything for the last minute and yet remains to have the highest grades out of everybody. It’s like the opposite way he goes about his own academics, yet it yields the same results. Even though Amelia is far smarter than him, she has almost the opposite reputation with the teachers.

Amelia bumps her hip into his side as they walk, shaking Link from his thoughts. “You going to the party tonight?” She raises her brows at him in question.

“Probably not,” Link answers. She just laughs at him.

“We’ll see.”

_______

They both end up at the party that night. A stupid high school party. Separately, that is. Because despite how close Amelia and Link are, they have very different friend groups. Link’s friend group is mostly made up of the baseball team, while Amelia tends to flock towards a tougher crowd.

So they arrive separately, but as soon as they lock eyes in the crowded basement, they’re practically running toward each other.

“Link!!!” Amelia yells, a little too loudly, unlike her. “I’m soooo glad you’re here.” She smiles at him, but her eyes are unfocused.

“Amelia are you drunk already?” Link laughs. Amelia’s usually a pretty happy drunk. At least the times that Link has seen her this way.

She nods her head around enthusiastically. “That I am,” she giggles. “Lemme find you a drink okay?”

_______

A couple hours later and Link’s ready to leave. He’s not drunk, just a little tipsy. And he’s not really feeling like being here anymore. He looks around the room to see if Amelia is still here. But he can’t seem to find her. He shrugs it off and says his goodbyes before making his way outside to walk home.

When he reaches the front porch he halts. Because there’s Amelia. Sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest on the front steps, gazing forward as if she’s thinking really hard about something.

Link clears his throat. “Whatcha doing there?”

As soon as she realizes Link’s presence, she shakes from her daze, smiling up at him. “Waiting for you. I felt like going home a while ago but I thought I’d wait for you.”

“That was cool of you.”

“No biggie.”

Link towers over her, even after she stands up. The height difference can be almost comical sometimes. She scrunches her nose a bit at him, like she’s taking in the height difference, too. And with that, they start their walk.

Link’s pretty quiet. More so than usual, Amelia notices.

“Something bothering you?” She asks.

“Uh, no. I’m fine.” And Link is the worst liar ever.

“Link…”

He’s silent for a moment.

“Amelia have you ever kissed anyone?”

Amelia laughs, cause she was not expecting this. “Yeah, silly. Why do you ask?”

And oh, Link thinks. That is not what he wanted to hear.

“Who?”

“Well. Umm. Jake. And Tyler. And-”

She notices him go quiet, eyes glued to his feet as they walk.

“You okay, Link?”

He shakes his head.

“Well what’s up?” She continues.

Link sighs deeply before responding. “Amelia, I’ve never kissed anyone..” he quickly mumbles out.

“I’m sorry I didn't really hear you. Did you say-”

“I said I’ve never kissed anyone,” and you could definitely say his voice is raised.

Amelia doesn’t really know how to respond. “Link, that’s okay. That’s fine.”

“No. It’s not. Everyone else has. Literally everybody.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have though.”

“Yeah, but-”

“But, what?” He interrupts her, and Amelia catches on that he’s pretty upset right now.

“It didn’t mean anything. I kissed those guys on a dare. At a stupid party. I didn’t even enjoy it.”

“Still,” Link sighs. “I feel like a freak. Kind of.”

“Well you are a freak,” she smirks at him. “But not because you haven’t kissed anyone.”

Link visibly relaxes, smiling back despite the dig. They're quiet again for a few minutes before Link speaks up again.

“Amelia, can I ask you something really dumb?”

“Sure, dummy.”

He sighs again, as if he’s working up some sort of courage, because he is. “Can I kiss you right now?” He looks to her face for a reaction before he continues. Of course she looks startled and confused. Just as he’d expected. “Not like serious. Like just so I can get it over with?” He explains quickly.

“Are you for real?” She giggles, still a little drunk.

“I am.”

“No, you idiot. I love you too much."

And now it’s Link’s turn to look startled.

"You’re my best friend,” She continues.

Oh. Right.

“And I’m not letting you waste your first kiss because you 'want to get it over with.’”

_______

2 weeks later and final exams are cramming their way into Link’s life. As he wraps up studying for a chem exam, he checks the clock. 1am. He yawns, standing up and stretching, before deciding to call it a night. Link finds himself glancing across the street, knowing it’s prime time for Amelia to be studying, too. His gaze lands on her bedroom window, but he frowns as he notices her light is turned off.

Link doesn’t think too much of it. He’s actually a little relieved that Amelia has seemingly gone to bed at a decent time. He quickly brushes his teeth and sets his alarm before collapsing into bed.

On the verge of sleep, Link is interrupted by a noise against his window. He tries to brush it off, but it becomes more persistent. Every 10 or so seconds, a sharp tap against glass. He gets up, crossing the floor, peering out his window. He rubs his eyes as they adjust, looking down at the front lawn.

And there’s Amelia Shepherd. Dressed in skinny jeans and a leather jacket, looking right back at him. Link thinks he’s dreaming. Amelia grows impatient at his slow reaction, taking it upon herself to throw another small rock against the glass. Link jumps back, startled. He opens the window.

“Amelia, what-” He groans. “What are you doing? What time is it? What-”

“Can you let me in? I need to stay over.” She interrupts him.

Something about her tone of voice seems off, Link thinks. But, he’s moving down the stairs and toward the front door quicker than expected for being half-asleep.

They settle on the sofa in Link’s living room. Amelia immediately begins kicking off her ankle boots. Link watches her, noticing her glassy, blood-shot eyes. He sighs.

“Don’t be mad at me.” Amelia picks up on his disappointment right away. She leans back against the cushions, resting her eyes shut. Link is glad for it. Her eyes are absolutely stunning. He has no problem admitting it. But, he hates the way they look when they are glazed over and hinting red like that. Her eyes remain closed as she mumbles at him “Can I have a glass of water?”

Link silently obeys her request. Moving about the kitchen slowly, as to not wake his father. When he re-enters the living room, Amelia is sitting up again, playing with her fingers anxiously. Link sets the glass of water on the table before he sits back down next to her.

“Thanks,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

Link shakes his head. “You okay?” He asks her.

She pauses, gathering her thoughts. “I did something stupid.”

Link is not phased by this. She “does something stupid” quite a lot these days. And, quite a lot, she ends up on his couch when she doesn’t want to face her problems right away. And Link lets her do this. He lets her hide out across the street when she can’t go home yet.

“I took Derek’s car this time,” she almost whispers. And Link’s head snaps up, glancing through the front window and to her driveway across the street. He notices Derek’s car to be missing still.

“Amelia!” It’s a combination of a whisper and a shout. “You can’t be driving around like this-”

“Oh please!” She interrupts him, matching his tone. “I just smoked a little weed!”

Link glares at her. Locking eyes with her hazy blue orbs.

“And besides...I didn’t drive his car home. I walked.” She continues.

“You walked?!”

“Hey! I left his car didn’t I? I was being safe!”

Link takes a minute to steady his voice. He can hear some shuffling around upstairs but decides to ignore it.

“I would have come pick you up.” He sighs. Amelia leans back against the cushions again. Link notices truly how anxious she looks. She looks up at him, worry and regret dancing all across her features. He sighs again, and this time he sounds more understanding. “We’ll go get his car first thing in the morning.”

She smiles a bit, grateful. She looks so tired.

“Did you leave it Jake’s?” Link asks, flinching at the thought of her even going over to his house. Link can’t stand the guy. He’s a bad influence on her, the school’s go-to dealer. Not to mention the guy is repeating his senior year. Ugh.

Amelia nods. “Yeah-”

They’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending the staircase. Link’s dad turns the corner a moment later. Link meets his dad’s eyes apologetically. When he sees Amelia and Link on the couch, he nods to himself knowingly.

“Hi, Mr. Lincoln,” Amelia speaks up. “Sorry to wake you.”

Link’s dad looks at Amelia, nodding with understandment. “That’s quite alright, Amelia. Just came down for a glass of water, actually.” Link knows his dad is making that last bit up. He’s just checking in. “Are you okay?”

Amelia nods gratefully at the man still standing in the doorway. “I’m okay….thanks Mr. Lincoln.”

“Yeah thanks Dad. I’ll be back up in a bit.” Link watches as his dad disappears, eyes shifting back to Amelia. Her eyes close again as she relaxes back against the couch. Link squeezes her thigh gratefully. Grateful to his dad for being practically a second parent to Amelia. Amelia smiles sleepily.

“Your dad is the best.”

“I know.”

Amelia’s smile fades and Link’s heart clenches a bit at the sight of it. He knows that his dad has acted as sort of a father figure to Amelia, especially because Amelia’s dad had died when she was so young. Link and Amelia had even bonded over being raised by single parents growing up. He feels sick with guilt. His parent’s divorce can’t even compare to what Amelia has been through.

“Alright we can talk tomorrow, ok?” Link whispers, squeezing her thigh once more before standing up. He grabs a blanket from the basket in the corner and tosses it to Amelia. She wraps it around herself before moving to lay down across the couch. Link heads toward the stairs.

“Link?”

He pauses. “Yeah?”

“Just, please-” Amelia’s voice is laced with sadness. “I, just. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

Link sighs from the doorway. “I’m not, Amelia. It’s...just. You scare me sometimes.”

Link hears some shuffling around before he sees Amelia’s head pop up over the back of the sofa. She glances back at him.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Link just stares at her, not knowing what to say. He’d rather they have this conversation tomorrow. But, Amelia speaks up again.

“I don’t know why I do this stuff sometimes….” her voice is barely a whisper, it sounds like she’s talking more to herself. “It’s just nice to not feel...sometimes...to be not feeling everything. If that makes sense…”

Link nods quickly. “Amelia we’ll talk tomorrow, ok?”

Amelia nods in response, still looking unsure of herself.

“We’ll get donuts on the way to pick up the car, how’s that sound?” Link speaks up again, smiling at her.

Amelia beams at him. She finally drops down against the pillows. Link takes a second before he turns back toward the stairs. As he makes his way up, he hears a quiet “thank you” from behind him.

_______

Link is 18 years old when he discovers what it feels like to miss someone so much it hurts.

He’s been away for his first semester of college for 2 months now and not even weekly Skype sessions with Amelia can distract him from his shitty experience so far.

His roommate is the definition of douche-bag. Constantly trashing their room, eating all of Link’s food, staying up all night, locking him out of the room for hours at a time when he has a girl over.

Link hates it here. And he misses having his best friend. And the comfort of being so close with someone and having them near at all times.

Amelia is having a different experience. She got into college on a scholarship and immediately found her place.

Link doesn’t like to admit that he often catches himself counting down the days until Christmas, aka when he’ll see her again. Hear her laugh again, and not just through a webcam.

_______

Link learns to find new distractions. He joins the college baseball team. He meets new people. People he actually enjoys, way more than he’ll ever enjoy his roommate or the people that live on his floor.

He meets Emma. She’s on the college dance team. She’s beautiful. And tall. And genuinely funny. And a distraction.

He thinks he loves Emma, by the end of his first year of college. He feels something every time he looks at her. With her beautiful dark hair and her tan skin. Her wide smile and the way she laughs with her entire body. She feels familiar. And makes him feel nostalgic.  

And he crushes any thought he has of Emma equaling his Amelia. His best friend.

He loses his virginity to Emma. It was a stupidly quick and drunken thing. By the time he returns home that summer, he can barely remember what it felt like. Or why he thought he knew what love was when he looked at Emma.

_______

Link is 22 years old when he discovers what it feels like to finally open up.

He hasn’t seen Amelia in almost a full year, although they still consider each other one another’s best friends.

It’s finally thanksgiving and they’re both returning home from their separate colleges for the weekend. He’s completely shocked when he first sees her. She looks the same but so, so different. More mature. More….something. Her hair is cut a bit shorter, framing her face. Her eyes are more intense than he remembers. Her face lights up at the sight of him and it makes his chest pull tight. He takes in what she’s wearing, the blue in her dress doing all the right things for her features.

Amelia clears her throat, drawing his attention back up to her face. “Long time no see, Link. Eyes up here.”

He shakes his head amusedly as he pulls her into a tight hug, because she’s already making him laugh within the first few seconds of being reunited.

_______

They end up at a local restaurant. The night before thanksgiving, which happens to be the busiest bar night all year. It’s also the night that everyone from high school decides to go to the same place. It basically feels like a premature high school reunion.

Amelia and Link attempt to stay together for the entirety of the night, but it’s a little hard when you’re constantly interrupted by vaguely familiar faces and pointless conversations.

After Link catches up with an old buddy for what seems like hours, he moves across the crowded room to find Amelia. It’s well past 1am and Link kind of wants to go home. He has to get up early tomorrow anyway to set up for thanksgiving festivities.

He catches her eye from where she’s sitting at a table, and motions toward the door, attempting to let her know that he’s leaving.

She frowns at him before abruptly ending whatever conversation she was part of.

Link watches her as she pushes through people to meet him by the door.

“You’re leaving without me? What kind of date are you?” She smirks at him as she shrugs on her jacket.

“I wasn’t aware this was a date, Ames.” Link responds, playing along. “But yes, I am leaving. Early morning and all that.”

“Well let me walk you home.” She continues, voice laced with irony.

_______

They end up back at Link’s house, sitting at the kitchen table. And it all feels very nostalgic. Especially with Link’s dad upstairs sleeping. Link feels like a kid again. Amelia makes him feel like a kid again.

Mostly there’s a lot of catching up, and reminiscing. And conversation about the future. It’s good. And Link is happy. And Amelia is laughing, so inherently, Link is too.  

“Remember that time junior year when you were so sleep deprived because 'college prep, duh’ that you slept-walked all the way across the street, to my house, and started throwing random shit at my window?”

Amelia bursts out laughing. “My sleep schedule was always a mess. But how about that time we got so drunk senior year? And we fell asleep on your front lawn? And my mom found us the next morning?”

_______

They talk about everything. All the things they used to love. All the things they missed about each other while they were both away. Everything that’s new to them.

Amelia learns everything about Link’s college experiences. All of the drunken mishaps. All of the ex-girlfriends. Even some weird sex things that she can’t ever un-hear. She learns that Link wants to pursue med school, possibly move out to the city.

Link learns that Amelia wants to follow in her older siblings’ footsteps. He learns that she loves science and wants to become a surgeon, and Link swears to her that he had always known that about her.

Amelia tells him about the relationships she’s been through. And the one she’s currently in.

“You’ll get to meet him this weekend, Link. He’s driving in tomorrow. For dinner.”

Link swallows, hard. Because suddenly things don’t feel so much like nostalgia and a happy, familiar place. Things feel uncertain.

“How long have you two been together?” He asks, feeling a tad out of place.

“We met my freshman year. We’ve been dating on and off since then.”

“On and off?” Link questions.

Amelia clears her throat. “Well, yeah.” She sighs. “We’ve broken up more than once. And gotten back together a couple of times…It’s um…” She pauses, collecting her thoughts. “It’s been, um, I mean I wouldn’t say a roller coaster, but…”

Link watches Amelia’s face fall with her half-attempt at an explanation. For the second time tonight, Link realizes that Amelia looks different. And it’s not just the confidence or the mature face. It’s in her eyes. And Link thinks she looks sad. Despite the fact that she’s been laughing freely, the same way she always has. It doesn’t reach her eyes.

Link doesn’t want to pry. But he almost feels obligated to ask. Because this is his best friend. His favorite person of practically 13 years.

“Amelia, are you happy?”

She doesn’t look up from where her eyes are glued to the kitchen table. It feels like minutes have passed before Amelia stands up on wobbly feet and walks around to Link’s side of the table. She still doesn’t say anything, but all of a sudden she’s forcing her way into Link’s lap, legs dangling off the side of the chair and arms wrapping around his neck.

She looks exhausted, he notices, when he looks into her eyes. And then she finally opens her mouth.

“I had the biggest crush on you in high school. Probably since I was 9, if I’m being honest.” And she laughs a little bit under her breath.

She lays her head on his chest so he can no longer see her face. Link wraps his arms around her waist and places a comforting kiss to the top of her head.

“And I of course was head over heels for you, but you already knew that. Everyone did.” He whispers, tightening his grip on her just slightly, giving her a gentle squeeze.

She laughs into him, and Link can feel it on his neck. It’s a tired, breathless laugh.

“Let’s crash on the couch, yeah?” He offers. “Like old times?”

_______

It’s weird for Link the next night at dinner. To see Amelia snuggled into the embrace of another man. Not even 24 hours after she’d fallen asleep in his own arms.

Link cringes when he recites it in his head. The way he’d whispered ’I’ve always loved you, Ames. Always will’ before they drifted off.

And the way that she’d responded. ’I love you too, Link. You’re my best friend.’

Link is angry, he thinks.

_______

Link is 25 years old when he discovers that he’s destined to be a father.

When his fiancé of two years, Rachel, tells him she's pregnant, he almost falls to his knees. So overwhelmed with a feeling he can’t place. He hopes it’s that he’s overjoyed, not overwhelmed, or the least bit uncertain.

He would love nothing more than to be a father.

_______

Link feels numb, three months later, when Rachel loses the baby. Waking up in the middle of the night and discovering such a thing, rushing to the hospital, only to find out it’s too late. It was draining for the both of them.

And it takes a toll on their relationship.

Rachel is defeated. And grows more and more depressed.

She takes her anger out on Link, and he does the same with her.

They decide to take a break, and Rachel moves back in with her parents. She needs some time for herself. And Link doesn’t know if he feels relieved. But he feels something. Cause he knows he was supposed to be a father.

_______

Link is 28 years old when he discovers that Seattle is his true home.

He’s graduated medical school and landed an internship at a top hospital in the city. He’s been in Seattle for almost 2 months now, and he feels like he’s in the right place for the first time in a long time.

It’s a monday morning and he’s taking his regular train ride downtown when an all too familiar brunette steps into the subway car.

The car is kind of crowded, and she automatically makes her way to a less dense standing spot. She doesn’t see him, cause she’s not really looking around.

Link is frozen in his seat, unsure of what to do. He hasn’t seen her in almost 3 years. Since they met at a restaurant in their hometown on New Years Eve. He was with Rachel at the time and things were very different.

Link realizes the next stop is his and he almost debates staying on to take his chance with Amelia.

The doors open and Amelia is getting off. And this is his stop, too. He leaps out of his seat just in time for the doors to not close in on him as he exits the train.

And he's definitely moving a little too fast and with too much force, because as soon as he’s on the platform, he’s running right into his childhood best friend.

She looks more startled than ever. And he takes a second to catch his breath. “Long time no see, Shepherd.” He smiles.

And her face lights up like never before. Brighter than before the average walk to school. Brighter than the time she first visited him at college. Brighter than a Thanksgiving reunion. She’s pulling him into the tightest of hugs, laughing breathlessly into his ear.

“What the hell, Link? What the hell are you doing here?” She lets go of him and they’re making eye contact, smiles wide across both their faces. They both seem to need to catch their breath.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He jokes.

Amelia shakes from her daze. “I..I live here now. I start a new job today. Like now, actually.”

Link just shakes his head knowingly, trying to contain the smile that just won’t quit. He doesn’t have much to say.

He’s overjoyed.

_______

Link is 29 years old when he discovers that his 9 year old self was correct. He knows what a soulmate is, by definition.

He knows what a soulmate is when he takes Amelia out on their real first date and he doesn’t even kiss her goodbye, because the timing isn’t quite right.

He knows what a soulmate is when he watches Amelia become a brilliant neuro fellow. When he watches her work. And save lives. When he realizes that he’s loved her determination since the moment they first met.

He knows what a soulmate is when they have sex for the first time. And it's way better for the both of them than it ever was with anyone else. When they take it kind of slow, reveling in each moment. Because it doesn’t feel real. She doesn’t feel real. It’s understated and overwhelming and it drives Link insane.

Amelia had asked him to stay over after they’d gone out with some of their other co-workers after a successful surgery, and when the making out and cuddling pressed into something further, Link couldn’t deny her.

Link knows what a soulmate is that night. When she looks him in the eye and goes to remove her sweater. It’s all vulnerability and it leaves him awestruck. But this is his best friend, and his soulmate. So when he asks her if she’s sure, and she sighs with words of encouragement, he takes the opportunity to learn every inch of her skin.

Link knows what a soulmate is the next morning. When he wakes up with the sun shining harshly through the window. And he turns to Amelia, who’s still sleeping, and traces the lines and shadows on her back from the bright sun.

Link knows what a soulmate is that same morning when she finally wakes from her slumber, rolling over to face him and whispering ’let’s make pancakes.’

Link knows what a soulmate is when they move in together. In a tiny apartment in Seattle. And they paint the walls a different color in every room.

And despite their first fight, Link knows what a soulmate is. He meets Amelia’s nieces and nephews. And he makes a nonchalant comment about kids one day. And she panics. And doesn’t talk to him for three days.

Link knows what a soulmate is when he learns to compromise. Because she doesn’t always have the best track record with long term relationships. She’s nontraditional, and he understands that.

And she’s still his soulmate when they turn 30. They get a bigger house in the suburbs. Link calls it 'room to grow’ and Amelia rolls her eyes and calls it 'extra work space.’

When they’re 32, and they’re attending their co-worker’s amazingly beautiful wedding, and Amelia distractedly states that ’maybe I’ll marry you someday,’ Link knows what a soulmate is.

_______

Link is 34 years old when everything falls into place for the rest of his life.

He comes home and Amelia has cooked dinner, something she never does. (Unless this is secretly takeout food, that she’s organized neatly onto their own dinner plates).

The atmosphere is different and Amelia definitely has a nervous energy about her.

Later that night when they're practically asleep, and Amelia mumbles “by the way, I’m pregnant,” Link knows what a soulmate is.

At first he thinks she’s kidding, but when she assures him she’s not, Link is up and turning on the lights. Dancing around the room like an idiot. And Amelia is laughing. Head thrown back and everything, his favorite sight to see.

And he’s never felt so happy.

_______

They settle on a name the same day they find out it’s a boy.

“Aiden?”

“No.”

“Charlie?”

“No.”

“Sam?”

“No.”

“Link, come on. Why do you hate every single name that I like?”

“It has to feel right, Amelia. We’ll know when it’s the right one.”

“Ugh. Okay. How about you come up with one?”

Link purses his lips. “How about Scout?”

“Scout…” Amelia repeats. “That’s a funny name.”

“It is,” Link smiles.

“You have a funny name,” Amelia continues, smirking.

“Scout,” Link repeats. “It’s perfect.”

Feedback please/let me know if you want me to write more amelink/send prompts!!

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 69 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). And Dartmouth420…this one’s for you! 💫

Previously: Courtney was having a rough week at work, but didn’t care about any of it when Bianca uttered three magic words, and Violet’s design was chosen as the spring runway finale look.

This Chapter: A wardrobe fitting for the spring runway collection ends in a workplace rendez-vous, Violet plans to work extra hard over the holidays, and Courtney accepts a welcome invitation.

***

Raven turned in the mirror, unsure if she should put her hair up or keep it down, the hustle and bustle of all the people required to run a fitting behind her.

She was wearing the closing gown, or what would become it with time; what she had been put in for now only a muslin skirt base and a top with loose stitched sleeves.

It was normal for couture to not be finished when it was tried on for the first time, the fitting today there to make sure that Fame liked the silhouette in motion and that Raven fit in the garment since she was the closing model, but she had to admit she was curious to see Violet’s actual work and the intricate details of it that Raja had mentioned in passing.

“Hey princess.”

Raven looked in the mirror, watching as Raja walked up to her, her fiancée leaving that morning before she was even awake, a mug in the sink and the smell of coffee the only traces of her. She was wearing a blue suit with a yellow shirt, the pants cinched in at her waist, her long hair in a thick half updo.

They had been together for years, but sometimes, Raven could still get butterflies when Raja looked at her just right, few things as powerful or sexy as Raja’s confidence and how she carried herself.

“Hey,” Raven smiled, turning her head so Raja could give her a quick peck, her arms sneaking around her waist. “Hair up or down?”

“Hmm,” Raja ran a hand through Raven’s hair, pulling it to one side before resting her head on her shoulder, her gray eyes focusing in on her. “Down. Even though you do look gorgeous enough to get away with whatever you want.”

Raven smirked, a pleasant sense of pride washing over her since she had been extra careful with her makeup. Normally, Raven didn’t do first fittings, but she wasn’t going to miss out on having Raja’s undivided attention, standing completely still for an hour a price worth paying.

“My beautiful girl.” Raja kissed Raven’s neck, pulling her even closer, and that was when Raven felt it, her eyes widening in the mirror.

“Raj,” Raven hissed, keeping her voice as a whisper, “are you?”

“Mmh,” Raja nodded, a grin on her face as she gave a small thrust of her hips, a strap clearly against her thigh. “A little surprise.”

Raven bit her lip, barely hiding a whimper at how insanely hot this was, the surprise in no way shape or form little. She loved it when Raja was packing, loved it when she knew there was a chance that she could get thrown against a wall at any minute and fucked hard and fast. “Oh god.”

“I’ll see you in my office once we’re done,” Raja smirked. “Right?”

This time, Raven did whimper as she nodded. She had no idea how she’d play it cool for the actual fitting, how she’d deal with the sight of Raja leaned back in a chair, taking her notes and sharing her inputs, knowing that she had a strap ready to go.

***

“Let me see the side.”

Gigi was just about to open her mouth to reply with a yes, when she felt a stranger touch her hips, turning her, and she remembered that Sutan had told her that fittings wasn’t a talking job.

She was standing in the middle of what had to be a tailoring floor. There were the professional grade sewing machines she recognised from her mothers workshop on desks all around her, the desks piled high with fabrics and surrounded by half-dressed mannequins. Gigi tried her best not to bounce in excitement at being so close to the process, but it was impossible not to.

“Do we still like the fabric?”

Bimini had told Gigi to remember that it was rude to stare at the people doing their job before she had left that morning, but it was hard not to sneak a glance out of the corner of her eye.

She had never met Miss Fame, but she had seen her in her mom's fashion magazines, the blonde sitting at a table against the window, her legs crossed, the red Louboutin sole the only part of her outfit that wasn’t white or gold.

“You’d rather we don’t go with the angora?” A bald man took a step forward, a gigantic pink clipboard in his hand. “I’m afraid merino might be too hot for the summer.”

Gigi was wearing a delicate crop top with short sleeves, the wool on it soft and extremely fluffy.

“Actually-” She opened her mouth, almost taking a step forward. “I think-“

She wanted to give her feedback, her top already hot to wear in December, and if it was for a summer collection, that seemed like important information, but she was cut off by a finger being held up, Sutan’s sister shooting her a look that told her to zip it without a single word.

Gigi hadn’t even known that Sutan had a twin sister until she had walked in for the fitting, the two of them strikingly similar even though they were different genders, their nose, eyes and height practically the same.

Raja gave her a small smile when Gigi nodded, her eyes lingering on her for a moment to make sure that she was actually silent, before she redirected her attention to Miss Fame, the discussion of wool blends still going on like Gigi and the other staff weren’t even there.

***

Raja sat at her computer, going through some model portfolios. Now that they’d chosen the models for the opening and closing looks, she could start to fill out the rest of the show. Some of the girls they’d had in the fitting today would be great, but some desperately needed to be replaced.

Model selection wasn’t what Fame cared about most, though that could simply be because Raja was so good at it, but it was important to have cohesion amongst the models, to tell a story with the girls you picked out.

She could hear Raven before she saw her, the firm footsteps of a woman who’d stomped many runways calling out. She smiled to herself, knowing that after their little flirtation this morning, and then the long wait after she and Fame had left the fitting, that her fiancée would be in quite a state.

Raven entered the office, quickly slamming the door and locking it. Raja barely looked up, pretended to be concentrating hard on her computer.

This was all part of their game; in some ways, it was Raja’s favorite part.

A slight huff of annoyance that Raja knew was exaggerated for effect left Raven’s lips as she strode forward, finally planting herself down directly in front of Raja, preventing her from seeing her computer.

She looked fucking fantastic, and Raja leaned back in her desk chair, watching Raven slowly shed her clothes until she was naked, wearing nothing but underwear, diamond jewelry and a pair of heels, legs spread open invitingly, a wet patch already forming.

Raja rolled her chair forward, letting Raven drape one leg over the arm. She pressed a line of kisses up Raven’s delicious thigh, feeling her gasp as she moved her panties aside, breath ghosting over her clit.

One of the things Raja loved the most about Raven was her absolute inability to hold back--whether that was bluntly stating her opinions, making her feelings well known with just a look, or immediately trembling and whimpering the second she was the slightest bit turned on.

“Princess…” Raja whispered, hands sliding around her waist as she rose up out of the chair. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”

“Yes, yes,” Raven begged, reaching out to claw open Raja’s pants and shove down the panties that had been holding her dildo in place, letting it spring free.

“Turn around,” she ordered, right in Raven’s ear, and after a slight shiver, Raven obeyed, leaning over the desk with her ass on glorious display.

Raja slid her hands up that smooth, tanned skin, letting her strap slip between Raven’s legs to tease at her. She was already quivering and wet, reaching down to toy with her clit.

“Not yet, princess…” Raja laced her fingers into Raven’s and pulled her hand away, lips pressed to her neck. She was met with an impatient whine, and only chuckled, sliding both hands up to pinch her nipples.

“Oh god,” Raven moaned, throwing her head back, legs widening.

“Are you sure you’re ready, my love?”

“Yes, fucking yes,” Raven whined. Ready was quite an understatement--she was dripping wet and clawing at the surface of Raja’s desk. Her hips pushed back against Raja as she slowly, slowly slid the dildo inside her.

Raja gently cupped her tits, thumbs rubbing her nipples in circles.

“Do you want to touch yourself, princess?” Raja murmured in her ear, and was met with only a whimper of affirmation, Raven arching her back and rolling her hips, desperately trying to get the friction she wanted. “Go ahead…”

Raven’s hand immediately went to her clit once again, rubbing in furious circles as Raja began to thrust into her. She started out slow, but was soon fucking her relentlessly against the desk, the moans dripping from Raven’s lips the most beautiful music. She didn’t stop when Raven came the first time, sure she could wring a few more orgasms from her, pounding against her ass until she was lying face down on the desk with her head on her arms, body limp with exhaustion.

Raja pulled out slowly and carefully, pressing kisses to her shoulders and neck before sliding her panties back up her legs and giving her a firm pat on the ass.

“Very.”

***

“So. What’s the verdict?”

“On Symone? She’s practically perfect brother dear,”

“Raj-“

“Relax, I’m teasing you. Gigi’s…young.”

“Models tend to be, but we both know that’s not what I asked. Now come on. I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”

“She’s beautiful, eager, exiatable, and not at all ready.”

“Not at all?”

“She almost talked during the fitting. Several times, and I’m pretty sure I saw her chew gum.”

“I had a feeling.”

“You always have feelings. So?”

“She’s good, she has potential, but listening isn’t exactly her forte-”

“You should always throw her at Michael Kors.”

“What great advice.”

“Fine. Marc Jacobs then. No one says she has to be an exclusive for her first season.”

“I can live with that as long as you don’t suggest student shows. I’m too old to manage a student show model.”

“Getting too comfortable TanTan?”

“Getting tired. You know, other people take broken-in models. Models who know what they’re doing. I don’t know why I keep doing this. ”

“Because you love it, and because you’re the best.”

***

“Kat-Kat!” Pearl exclaimed, setting her bags on the kitchen table. “You’re still up!”

“Hi Pearlie,” Katya said, smiling over her cup of tea. “Whatcha got there?”

“I’m so glad you asked, madame,” Pearl said with a grin.

Just a week ago, Katya had looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders--sad and withdrawn, her vibrant personality dulled by fear and anxiety. Now, it was a whole different story.

She still clearly had concerns about the whole baby thing (which Pearl tried to understand, but she found it hard. After all, who on earth would be a better mother than Katya??), but it was a difference of night and day, and Pearl was relieved to see her back to herself.

Pearl had been out after work...skulking around the strip club again like a loser--Dahlia hadn’t even been working, as far as Pearl could tell while she waited, draining 3 gin and tonics, overtipping the girls that were actually there since she already had the cash.

When she had left, she’d walked by a Whole Foods right before closing, essentially emptying out the woman's health aisle.

She pulled the items out one by one for Katya to see.

“So, I was talking to Alyssa at work, and you know she’s had three kids, so she gave me a list of things to get for you. We’ve got multivitamins, folate, iron, vitamin D…” Pearl grinned as she twisted one of the bottles around. “All in all just a bunch of stuff to keep you and Killer healthy.”

“Awww, thank you baby!” Katya had jumped up, and now pressed a sloppy kiss to Pearl’s cheek. “You’re the best.”

“No, you’re the best, and Killer’s the luckiest baby in the whole world.”

“Wow, so glad that nickname is sticking,” Trixie said drily, walking into the kitchen, but Katya was laughing, so he couldn’t be too annoyed.

“Hey Trix.” Pearl grinned at him before opening one of the cabinets and helping Katya load up all the new vitamins and supplements. “Actually, I’m glad you’re both here, because uh…”

Pearl scratched her head, unsure of exactly how to approach the situation.

“So...listen, I know it’s not like, super urgent, but I assume that once Killer gets here, you’re gonna want to use my bedroom for them.”

“Oh,” Katya’s eyes widened. It seemed like something she hadn’t considered.

“So, you know, if you want me to start looking for another place, I can-”

“No!” Katya exclaimed, putting a hand on her arm, adding, “I don’t want you to go.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we have to worry about it yet,” Trixie said. “We’re not about to kick out our oldest just because you’re getting a little brother.”

Pearl and Katya both laughed, Katya moving a hand to her belly and asking, “You think it’s a boy?”

“Oh uh...I dunno, maybe,” Trixie grinned. “Either way, they better like pink.”

***

“So this is the girl you want me to take a look at?” Sutan put down their drinks, taking the portfolio Karl handed him, the two of them only just sitting down in a booth in the corner of one of their favorite bars.

“Mmh,” Karl hummed, a glint in his eyes as he grabbed his drink with a little umbrella. “She’s been asking and asking about doing America full time, and I think you’d be a good fit for her.”

“You think I’m a good fit for everyone.” Sutan smiled, flicking through the portfolio. They didn’t actually have to talk business, this entire exchange just as easily done in an email, but it was a long-standing tradition of theirs to make Elite pick up the tab, even though they could more than afford their drinks on their own.

“And she did British Vogue?”

“Cover and all,” Karl smirked, Sutan stopping on the printout of the pictures.

“There’s great skin, interesting eyes, good hair. All natural?”

“Not a single extension.”

“Hmm… I mean, she’s pretty, ” Sutan turned to another page, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“And?”

“She’s very pretty.”

“Ah,” Karl sighed, rolling his eyes. “And there he is, Amrull the asshole.”

“Ha,” Sutan snorted. “I resent that. All I’m saying is that I’m not sure if I have space, and I just signed Symone.”

“You can have more than one black girl in your stable.”

“Please,” Sutan raised an eyebrow, refusing to take the jab. It wasn’t something he bragged about, but he had always represented girls of color, had pushed to get them jobs and opportunities long before any of his fellow agents had picked up on fashion being more than boring blonde European girls and the occasional diversity hire. “You know it’s not that, I’m simply questioning her potential.”

“You liked Bimini.” Karl smirked, stirring his drink.

“You’re never going to let me forget that, huh?”

It was true that Karl was the one who had scouted Bimini, that he was the one who had picked her out of the crowd at a concert he had gone to in London, but Sutan was the one who had nurtured her, who had taught her and who had defended her from Elite when she had shaved her eyebrows off.

“No,” Karl grinned, raising his drink to say cheers, Sutan clicking their glass together.

“I’ll meet her,” Sutan took the portfolio, sliding it into his messenger bag, “but don’t expect anything.”

***

“Knock knock…” Roxy said, poking her head in the doorway of Miss Fame’s office suite, where Courtney was sitting with her head in her arms. “You alright?”

“Yeah!” Courtney jumped slightly, sitting up straight and forcing a smile. “Sorry, I was just having a moment.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, girl,” Roxy said, waving her hand, the other one holding her mug of coffee. She perched on the edge of Courtney’s desk. She’d been dying to talk to her more all week, and get some juicy details about her relationship now that it was public, but they’d both been insanely busy. Today though, Roxy had spent the morning training the temp who was covering her desk a few days next week, and the girl was quick enough that she felt secure leaving her alone for a while.

Unfortunately, Courtney didn’t look like she was in the mood for spilling any dirt. Her desk was littered with multiple projects, and she just generally looked like she was both miserable and under water.

“Rough day, huh?” Roxy prompted, hoping to get her to talk.

“Yeah,” Courtney admitted, sighing. “Rough week. And if Miss Fame doesn’t approve this holiday card list, I’m fucked.”

“I’m sorry.” Roxy tilted her head, wondering how to approach her real agenda tactfully before blurting out, “So how are things with Bianca?”

It was like Courtney’s entire mood instantly lifted, the mere mention of Bianca making her face soften into a smile, eyes shining.

“Can’t complain there,” she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Actually…” Courtney glanced around, lowering her voice to say, “Maybe you can help me with a little non-work-related project, if you’ve got a few minutes?”

“You’ve got my attention!”

***

COURTNEY: I have a confession…

COURTNEY: I stole something from your apt.

BIANCA: Lol, what?

Bianca flipped her phone over quickly, hoping that no one else in the editorial meeting had glimpsed the picture of Courtney on her phone, clad in nothing but Loubs and a pair of her own lacy red panties. There were more pictures, and Bianca was dying to see them, but she’d have to get through the rest of the fucking meeting before fully enjoying them in the privacy of her office.

“...so I think that it would be beneficial if we included more-”

“Yes, yes, approved,” Bianca said, cutting Dan off with a wave of her hand. “Anyone have anything else to add, or can we move on?”

“Somewhere to be, boss?” Nina asked silkily, a knowing smile on her face that told Bianca there was a chance she’d seen her phone.

“I’m sorry, did you want to spend another hour talking about mint green?” Bianca asked, trying to cover her impatience.

“No, I’m all good.” Nina smiled again.

“Great.”

***

“Once again, thank you so so much.”

“Whatever you need, Chachki!”

Violet smiled, making her way to the elevator, her new security card safely tucked away in her pocket. She had just finished a visit with the building's security, the guys who ran it all much more pleased to see her again then she had dared imagine.

Her visit hadn’t been strictly necessary, her designer clearance more than enough to get to and from the design floor in her everyday work life, but she had wanted to make sure that she had access to Galactica over the holidays, the security team instantly unlocking the backdoors and service points for her when she had asked.

Violet knew she wasn’t working in Fame’s office anymore, and knew that she was allowed to go on vacation, but she still felt bad about leaving in January, even though the majority of the new collection work was out of the designers’ hands.

She hadn’t checked in with Sutan about whether or not he’d be working between Christmas and New Years, but if she knew him at all, he would, though the parties Sutan often called work with a smile on his lips didn’t really live up to Violet’s definition of the word.

If she was honest, she was kind of excited for some peace and quiet, to have the floor entirely to herself, the extra time hopefully enough to catch her up to the standards of the company motto.

“Remember,” Violet whispered. “Only perfection is acceptable.”

***

“Hey angel, you on the way?” Bianca asked, after answering on the first ring.

“Hi,” Courtney said. In spite of the stress she was under, and her regret at skipping the romantic dinner she knew that Bianca had planned, a smile pulled at her lips at the sound of her voice. “And no, I’m sorry, I can't make it tonight. I’m gonna be here super late.”

“You’re not really sending me those naughty pictures and then cancelling, are you?” Bianca asked, voice low and husky.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could, you have no idea how much,” Courtney said. And it was true--too true. Thinking about seeing Bianca had been the only thing getting her through the day, but there was just no way to leave now. If she thought about it too hard, Courtney knew she’d start crying, so she was trying to simply suck it up and be an adult, no matter how much she wanted to run. “But I have so much to do. Miss Fame just approved the holiday card list and if I don’t get them in the mail before tomorrow morning’s pickup, I’m gonna-”

“Bring it here. You can work, I’ll order some dinner...and then we can do all the unspeakable things that I’ve been planning ever since you sent me those pictures.”

Courtney could feel her cheeks heating up. The pull to say yes was strong, but she was still uncertain. “But what if I have to re-print some labels? I’m just-”

“I have a printer, sunshine.”

Courtney bit her lip. It had been a rough week; Miss Fame was in a worse mood than normal, and her to do list never seemed to get shorter no matter how hard she worked or how late she stayed. And on top of everything, the weather had been absolute shit, so another freezing night in her damp, drafty apartment sounded like hell. She knew for sure that being in Bianca’s arms would instantly make everything better.

“Okay. Okay, yes, I’m coming,” she said. “I just need to get everything together here and then I’ll head over.”

“Perfect.” Bianca said, and Courtney could hear the satisfied smile in her voice, imagine her dimples deepening. “I’ll see you soon, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Courtney said, stomach still flipping with excitement every time she said the words.

[bellaslilpapercut]

Eclipse reread part 2! This is gonna cover a lot of chapters because I forgot to include stuff from chapters 4, 5, and 6 in part 1 (in my defense your honor, this book is very grating to read). Awayyy we go:

1. so chapters 4-6 really could have been one chapter tbh since the plot is: Bella ditches work at Newton’s Outfitters to hang with Jake and then writes some graduation invites with Angela. She pushes her rusty old behemoth as fast as it can go through driving rain but then hangs outside with Jake the whole time so I don’t really know where the rain went. She also manages to hear Jake gasp through her closed car door! Super sonic! Anyway, Bella insists that Edward is a good guy, Jake makes Bella hold his hand, Jake explains imprinting (yuck we can skip that), and then Edward drives threateningly past Bella while she’s on her way to Angela’s house. Angela reminds Bella that, at his core, Edward is a teen boy who is Totally Jealous of how Ripped and Sexy her 16 year old best friend is. Then Alice kidnaps Bella. Fun times!

2. During the imprinting convo it becomes very apparent that Meyer thinks the worst thing that can happen to a girl is getting broken up with. Somehow Leah got the “worst end” of the Sam/Emily/Leah fiasco despite Sam turning into a “monster” and Emily getting literally mauled in the face. What’s worse is later in the book, during the “Legends” chapter, when Bella wonders if Leah thinks Emily’s scars are a form of “justice.” Yea, Bella, that’s justice. 

3. I love this Rosalie quote but hate the entirety of they way meyer writes her story. Others have mentioned it before but Meyer writes Rose's dialogue there as if Rose is an author and not like...a person telling a story. An easy fix would be to format Rosalie's story "flash back" style rather than have her narrate all the way through. Then you can include all the superfluous details of exactly what everyone's voice sounded like and all the excessive dialogue tags you want.

I also Violently Abhor this quote here:

Yea, meyer, the Hot Girl hates your self-insert because her stupid ass brother didn't have the hots for her. It just reads like weird middle school revenge fantasy "I only hated you because you were so Special!!!" Sure, sure. Also "all those females!" People don't talk like that @stephanie

4. I do love the scene when Bella “escapes” from Alice with Jake (I don’t know why i put escape in quotes, Alice could definitely murk Bella) but then that whole adventure ends with Jake telling Bella he’d rather she die than turn into a vampire. And yeah, fair buddy, but also you’ve known Bella for a long time. This should not be a surprise to you at all even a little bit. a) she mentioned it before, b) you knew she would never get over Edward even if your plan in NM had worked, and c) you’ve known that she’s fully obsessed with the Cullen’s since you started hanging out with her again. The last time you guys hung out she went on an impassioned rampage about how lovely and good and fantastic Edward is (footage not found) I really don’t know why you’re surprised that this hard-headed girl is prepared to commit to vampirism for him. She is not normal lmfao.

5. The legends chapter. Oh boy. Stephanie, Meyer, Smeyer. Honestly it might have been less offensive if she had just made up a whole new tribe to give these backstories to, for all that they have in common with real Quileute legends but actually that would still be offensive and terrible anyway. I don’t know how to describe this adequately but if you’ve ever seen G.I. Joe’s portrayal of indigenous people that’s exactly what meyer made Old Quil and Billy’s dialogue sound like. Just absolutely dripping with Mystical Native/ Magical Native trope from the content to the tone. https://mthg.org/ Because it can’t be plugged enough.  

6. The legends chapter ends with this Wuthering Heights quote:

I have no qualms with it's inclusion, if you really want to push the Edward is Heathcliff and Bella is Cathy agenda, I don't believe it but fine, whatever. But those last two paragraphs are such a dumb way to end a chapter. Every chapter ending should make the reader want to turn the page: this makes me want to shut the book (actually I did take a long break after this lmfao). Anyway, just end the quote on "drank his blood," bold those three words, and end the chapter there. Don't go back and say "the three words that stood out were... Anyway it could have fallen to any page I believe in coincidence teehee!!" That's just annoying.

7. Okay guys I hate to say it but Edward does get a lil bit of ~character growth after the first few chapters. He comes home after having Bella kidnapped (she decides not to be angry, surprise surprise) and is all "so I've been thinking about it and you're right my Beloved Angel Face or whatever, please hang out with Jacob but also wear a helmet on your motorcycle my Beloved Dumb Idiot or whatever" (paraphrase). And he also says this in chapter 12:

Which is like, man I hate when I agree with Edward but I agree with Edward here. Now I know from MS that he only wants Bella to stay human because he's creating an Unfolding Drama in his head but this bit of dialogue is really sweet. And it's funny that he thought Bella didn't want to marry him because she just wanted to use him for immortality but it's also a Dark Reminder that he's literally only romantic with her because he can't read her mind and can't tell that she's just as obsessed with his looks as the other Teen Girls TM.

8. uuuh Jasper’s Backstory Time. This is so infuriating to read for so many reasons. So we know that smeyer got Jasper’s name from a confederate memorial/ listing (from a New Moon Q&A but the link isn’t secure so I can’t share) so I know that his backstory was always meant to be Confederate Soldier which makes everything else about his characterization just baffling. Again, he was the only Cullen that was genuinely kind to Bella besides Carlisle for the entire first book and he’s still incredibly kind during Eclipse (which is another issue I have though because no one mentions again that Jasper tried to eat Bella and they stand close to each other and hang out and Bella’s never like “this is scary, this dude tried to kill me” but i digress). The point is: smeyer knew he was going to be a confederate from book 1. She never addresses that this was bad, she never has Jasper mention that he regrets his role in the war, he is the only Cullen that’s actually capable of empathizing with humans anymore (Carlisle cares but I would not categorize him as empathetic), it just... None of these pieces fit together. This is a fraught and bloody history that smeyer throws in with no thought to how it might alienate black readers (though tbh she constantly emphasizes “white beauty” throughout the series so I doubt she cares) and the editors don’t question it either. No one, at any point in time, said “Hey, steph, you know confederates fought for slavery, right?” Every black american deserves reparations. White women and men who glorify the civil war should be the first to pay up. 

9. I’m gonna jump back to chapters 9 & 10 here (target & scent, respectively) to say: no tension is being effectively built. I get it, someone stole your clothes. You’re annoyed because you have nothing to wear and Victoria is scary. But where is she? Where is the volturi? Move it along, please! This is one of the challenges of 1st person narrative because the author is stuck in the eyes of, usually, the person who knows the least. Meyer is not a talented enough author to make this interesting. Not to bring up THG again but Suzanne Collins really knew how to work 1st person. Everything that Katniss asserts with certainty throughout the series gets either confirmed or denied by the narrative, keeping it interesting. She assumes the worst of the people around her so we’re pleasantly surprised when people violate those assumptions. We’re kept on edge by how little Katniss knows and SC never gifts Katniss with more knowledge than she could be expected to have. Bella is constantly gifted with knowledge and her assumptions are rarely proven wrong. You can dig into the canon a little bit more, read the lexicon and the guide, and find all the examples of Bella being unreliable or making wrong assumptions. But within the narrative she is rarely incorrect. She doesn’t get opportunities to grow out of her false assumptions (while Edward does, at least in Eclipse). So to keep the Victoria debacle interesting, smeyer has to plant seeds like- during these two chapters- Bella thinking of Laurent and Victoria while the cullens discuss who could have been in Bella’s room. That just doesn’t cut it for me. 

This is hella long and I’m only halfway through the book. I probably should split the second half into two parts as well but based on how talented smeyer is at stretching out the mundane, especially just before the climax, I probably wont need to. 

[melodyalanaroster]

Love Rekindled And Remade

Disclaimer: This chapter is NSFW!

“Nath... What are we doing here?” Alana asked as Nathaniel lead her into the Anteros Academy Library. “Just come on.” He beamed. Ever since their little “Aquaman Date”, the couple had been getting progressively closer. They had begun a weekly ritual of dinner and a movie at Death’s Domain where Alana would either cook or order food and she would show him a movie that he hadn’t seen. Nathaniel smiled and remained quiet as he held her hand and walked them into a secluded set of shelves. When they got to a lonely corner, she leaned back against a shelf and looked at him curiously. Suddenly the memory of their first kiss flashed through their mind. It was one of the happiest memories that she could think of throughout her training. Her heart began to pound as he leaned over her. “I-Isn’t t-this a b-bit c-corny?” She stuttered as he looked deep into her eyes. “So what?” He smirked. “N-Nath...” She breathed heavily as her face turned bright red. “Alana...” His voice was a low, kind, growl as he looked at her lips. She tilted her head up and bit her lip. Nathaniel looked at her lovingly and lowered his lips onto hers, kissing her softly. Her mind went blank as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeper. The temperature in the area quickly rose as the kiss became more and more passionate. Their lips would part only to crash back into each other with more heat and longing, as if this moment was the one they had been dreaming of for years. She wanted him to go further, not caring if they were in the public eye, she needed him. “This isn’t the right time!” the voice in her head piped up. “SHUT UP!” She quickly thought back as she wrapped one arm around Nathaniel’s hips and pressed him against her. She could feel him getting harder and harder as they kissed. “A-Alana... N-Not y-yet...” He weakly stuttered as he took a small step back, a strand of saliva still connecting their mouths. “O-Of course.” Alana quietly sighed as she caught her breath. He took a minute to breathe and stared at her, a warm, sweet, smile spreading across his face. 

★

“Are you really sure you wanna watch Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them this week?” Alana asked as she and Nathaniel washed the dishes from that night’s dinner. Alana had made Steak Au Poivre from a web series she enjoyed and they had both cleaned their plates. Nathaniel didn’t partake in the glass of Johnny Walker Blue Label that she paired the meal with, and she had found the 200 gold bottle of Scotch to be rather bitter. However, she did it to be accurate to the web series. “We’ve been watching Marvel and DC the past few weeks. Its something different and I wanna know why you’ve got that bird tattooed to your back.” Nathaniel explained as he finished washing the dishes he was working on. “I get that. But, you’ve never been one to watch Harry Potter.” Alana mused. “I’ve never been one to watch superhero movies, but I still do because of you and Armin.” Nathaniel chuckled. “I’m really grateful you do that.” Alana blushed as she finished the last dish and hugged him. “They can be fun.” Nathaniel admitted as he kissed her forehead. She lead him over to the couch, grabbed a remote and got to the movie’s menu. He laid down and motioned for her to join him. She grabbed a large blanket, laid down with him, using his chest as a pillow, and draped the blanket over the two of them. “I love you Nathaniel.” She thought. She still didn’t know what shady stuff he had gotten himself into, just that he didn’t want to bring her into it. She knew that he knew she could easily get him out of it and that she could protect him, but he had made it clear that he wanted her to focus on her recovery and second metamorphosis. What she did know was that he was thoroughly enjoying the little “dates” with her. They hadn’t officially gotten back together, but their inner circles knew that it was only a matter of time. 

As the movie played on, she relaxed into his chest and held his hand. She could hear his heart begin to pound as he ran his thumb over her fingers. When Frank the Thunderbird came onto the screen, she sat up and a look of wonder and adoration filled her eyes. Nathaniel quickly looked at the screen, watched the fantastic beast fly over New York City, then turned his gaze to Alana. The look in his eyes was one filled to the brim with love. He sat up, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. “You’re being awfully affectionate.” She purred as the end credits began rolling and he kissed her neck. “I’ve missed you.” He mused. “I’ve missed you too.” She cooed as she maneuvered herself so that she was straddling him and began kissing him. Shock flashed across his face for a split second as he tilted his head and put one arm around her back and the other near her ass. Her hands began running along his body, allowing her to memorize every inch she touched. She could feel her core becoming hotter by the second. “Alana...” He growled, hungrily. “Nath... C-Could I p-possibly show y-you how much I’ve m-missed you?” She asked, nervously. Nathaniel thought for a minute and nodded. Alana stood up and held her hand out to him. “Come on.” She cooed as she led him upstairs.

When they got to her bedroom, she took her glasses off, set them down on her bedside table, turned to him, threw her arms around him and began kissing him deeply. Her tongue intertwined with his, begging him for permission to let her continue. He wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss. She could feel his pelvis against hers, his length getting harder and harder. Her core was set ablaze with desire, yearning for his touch. When their lips parted, she bit her lip, rested her hands on the top of his pants and looked at him hopefully. “Are you sure?” He asked. “Yes.” The word left her mouth quickly and conviction. “Alright, but... We’re going to take this slow.” Nathaniel purred. Alana pulled a condom and a bottle of clear lube out of one of the bedside tables, set them on top of the table, and turned on romantic music. “Okay.” She mused. He slowly pulled her shirt over her head, off her arms, and threw it on the ottoman. She grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulled it off and tossed it on top of hers. “Fuck. I’ll never get over seeing him shirtless.” She thought. “Miss Roster? Are you actually drooling?” He chuckled as he caught her staring at him. “Of course not!” She scoffed and turned away. “After all this time...” He cooed. “Always.” She purred. She unbuttoned her pants, slid them down her legs, got closer to the bed and looked at him with pleading eyes. He kept eye contact with her and bit his lip as he leisurely undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, slid his pants down his legs and kicked them off. “You switched from black to green.” She commented as she stared at his underwear. “And you’ve switched from blue to black. I was kind of hoping you’d still have that lacy green set you had a long time ago.” He remarked. “My Slytherin panties? I had to get new ones... My ass got bigger and more muscular.” She laughed. “Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow. “And if you’re a good little boy, you’ll get to see them one day.” She shot. “I can’t wait.” He winked. 

She stood up, pushed him back and got on her knees. He gave her an inquisitive look as she pulled his underwear down around his ankles, revealing his length. She ran her hands along his shaft and kissed the tip. “God I’ve missed this.” She thought as she began peppering his cock with sweet little kisses. “Alana...” He growled with slight impatience. “Now Nathaniel... You said you wanted to take this slowly.” She smirked. As she began licking his length, he started to sigh and moan with pleasure. His moans were music to her ears, while her tongue stroked each and every spot on his cock, she listened to his sweet sounds with great reverence. “Fuck.” He sighed when she flicked her tongue across his base. As she licked and sucked, she couldn’t help but bring her free hand between her legs, playing with her hot, wet, core as she pumped him in and out of her mouth. “Alana, fuck, please, have mercy and let me play with you.” Nathaniel begged as he struggled to remain standing. “As you wish.” She replied as she gave him a final lick and licked her lips. He knelt down to her, started nibbling her earlobes, quickly unhooked her bra, slid the straps off her arms and tossed it aside. “Did they get bigger?” He asked as he held her breasts in his hands. “Final growth spurt. I got bust instead of the height I wanted.” She clarified as he pushed her down on the bed and got on top of her. “Lucky me. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” He smirked as he took one sensitive point in his mouth and the other in his fingers. Alana couldn’t help but gasp as he took turns running his tongue over her nipples. “Fuck, I’ve missed this.” she thought as he lightly scratched her breasts, leaving a trail of marks and kisses as he made his way down to her panties. “Now, let me properly show you how much I’ve missed you.” He grinned. Alana looked down at him, his head right above her slick core, his fingers looping themselves in her panties; she instinctively lifted her ass, he pulled them down and tossed them aside. “Thank god I shaved that recently!” she couldn’t help but think. Less than a second later, his head was between her legs and his tongue was stroking her. “Nath! Fuck!” She gasped as her head fell back. With each and every lick and sucking motion, she moaned and ran her hands through his hair. “Oh, god!” she moaned as she pulled his head down on her. When he stopped licking, she let go of his hair, he tilted his head up and licked his lips. “You’ve never held my head down there before.” he remarked as he brought himself above her. “I have really fucking missed you Nathaniel.” she conceded as she bucked herself against him. “You know? I should feel honored to be allowed to do this to “the great Grim Reaper”... Instead I can’t help but feel satisfaction at the fact that I’m still the only one who has permission to please you, my sweet Melody.” He purred as he walked over to his jacket, pulled out a condom, took the wrapper off and slid the condom on his length.

“Nath... Please... I need you!” She pleaded as she spread her legs and he walked over to her. He plunged two fingers into her, pulled them out, then licked them. Alana moaned and lightly arched her back. “Have I mentioned how you’re the only sweet thing I truly love to consume?” he smirked. “Cocky little shit. Such and ass!” she thought. “Please. Please my love. I want you!” She begged. “As you wish.” He cooed as he positioned himself over her on the bed and plunged himself into her. “NATH! OH MY GOD!” She yelled as she arched her back and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She put her hands on his back, pulling him into her, and leaving scratches down his shoulder blades. “That’s my girl. Take it all in.” He growled as he thrust in and out of her, taking time to bite and suck her neck at every opportunity. “Nath, at this rate, I won’t be able to cover that up.” Alana gasped between moans. “Good. I want the world to know you’re back to being mine, just as I’m back to being yours.” He moaned. Their moans continued to grow louder and louder until Alana brought Nathaniel’s ear to her mouth. “I want on top now.” she whispered. “But we’re so close.” Nathaniel pondered. “Yes, and I want you as deep inside me as possible when we cum.” she responded. “Yes ma’am.” Nathaniel replied as he put his arms around her, rolled them over, and let her position herself on top of him. “Fuck you’re radiant.” he sighed.  Alana grinned as she lifted herself above him, his length still inside her core, and brought herself down on him. “FUCK!” he moaned as his head fell back and he grabbed her ass. “That’s more like it!” she beamed as she bucked her hips. “You do realize, I love seeing you when you moan. I can’t do that so much when you’re on top.” she moaned. Once again, their moans began to grow louder and more frequent. “Alana.” “Nathaniel.” “Fuck.” “Oh god!” Nathaniel moved his hands from her ass to her breasts then back to her ass as he tried his best to lightly thrust as her hips bucked. “OH GOD!” she yelled. As their bodies synced up in rapid movement, they were both overcome with ecstatic pleasure. “ALANA!” “NATHANIEL!” they screamed as they rode out each other’s highs, their moans and sighs beginning to slow down. They looked at each other for several minutes. “I love you Alana.” Nathaniel grinned, weakly. “I love you too Nathaniel.” Alana sighed affectionately as she knelt down and kissed him.

Alana dismounted Nathaniel and walked to the bathroom for a few minutes. After she finished washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror and noticed her neck covered in hickies and bite marks. “You know? A normal person would be ashamed of these. But in this case, they really are badges of honor.” she thought as a massive smile spread across her face. Nathaniel poked his head into the bathroom, curiously. “Did you fall in?” he asked, jokingly. “No, I was just looking at the marks you left on me my love.” She beamed, walked over to him and kissed him. They walked back into the bedroom. Nathaniel grabbed his underwear as Alana walked over to her desk, picked up her choker, turned it over, opened the pouch on the back and let the little silver ring fall into her hand. “Is that the ring I gave you at the airport when you left for Toronto?” Nathaniel asked, shocked. “Yes. I’ve had it with me for every training session, every mission. It’s the reason why I wear chokers. I keep the ring inside them to protect it and still have it on me.” Alana explained. “Oh, Alana...” Nathaniel purred as he walked over to her and took the ring out of her hand. “You know? Now that we’re back together, its rightful place is back on my finger.” she encouraged. Nathaniel blushed, bit his lip, and slipped the ring onto her left ring finger. “That is where I meant for it to stay.” He mused as he looked deep into her eyes. “I never wanted to take it off... But you know I had to.” Her voice began to crack, a hint of sadness had creeped its way into her tone. “It’s okay. Its back to where it belongs.” He grinned. 

★

The following morning, the pair showered, got dressed, ate breakfast and went to the Black Tower’s lobby together. Alana had decided to wear black leggings, a dark blue skirt, a black t-shirt with the TARDIS on it, black socks and black flats that day. There was a spring in her step and stars in her eyes. To say she had a positive charge would have been an understatement. Her heart had been restored, one part of Project Thunderbird accomplished, and she was one major step closer to having what she truly wanted in life. She wanted to shout it from the rooftops that she was closer to becoming “human” again. Of course, she knew she wasn’t allowed to do that, and that it would have alarmed everyone who would have noticed how “out of character” it was. “Looks like our Mels had an overnight visitor!” Renee laughed as she and Derek walked into the lobby holding coffee from the Cozy Bear Café. “Is your five year long dry spell finally over?” Derek laughed. Nathaniel’s body language stiffened and he began to blush. A wave of confidence rushed through Alana as she noticed a dark eyed, silver haired, woman staring down at them from one of the upper floors. “That’s right! We’re, officially, back together.” She beamed. “Is that true?” Derek asked Nathaniel. “Yeah.” He smiled. Alana turned to the woman. “YOU HEAR THAT YOU OLD BITCH?! I GOT BACK WHAT YOU FORCED ME TO GIVE UP!” Her voice boomed. Nathaniel looked shocked as he stared at the woman. “Mels! I know you’re happy that you get to put this nail in her coffin, but please don’t antagonize Azrael!” Renee shot. “What is she going to do? Torture me? She’s already done enough of that!” Alana laughed. “She’s got a point. Azrael literally has no power over her anymore.” Derek pointed out as he took a sip of his coffee. “Not the point. Azrael still has power over a certain amount of people here. We don’t need her to go AWOL. That wouldn’t be good for anyone.” Renee sighed. Alana rolled her eyes. “You know I’m right.” Renee snapped. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m not sorry.” Alana sarcastically waved as she and Nathaniel walked towards the door. 

Nathaniel looked at the streets and shivered. “Nath? Are you okay?” Alana asked, concerned. “Y-Yeah... I’ll walk you to class, but then I’ve gotta go.” His voice became depressed. He checked his phone and noticed at least three missed calls. Two from Officer Ward, and one from an unknown number. “Nath...” Alana’s voice turned wary. “I’ll be okay. I’m not ready to tell you yet.” He attempted to grin. “Why not? If you’re in trouble, I can and will protect you. If someone is threatening you, I’ll have no issue in dealing with them.” Alana cooed. “I don’t want them to come after you... I don’t want them to think they can use me to get to you, or that they can even try to use you to get me to do what they want.” Nathaniel’s voice broke. “But, Nath, surely you know that I’m protected. Many have tried to kill me, but none of them have succeeded.” She put her hand on his arm, reassuringly. “They are dangerous Alana... And with your desires... They might think its okay...” He muttered. “Who are they? Nath, please tell me!” She urged. Nathaniel shook his head and looked at her with pain in his eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you... Just not yet...” He insisted. Alana looked down, her heart visibly breaking. “N-Nath...” She stuttered. Nathaniel mustered up a hint of confidence and kissed her forehead. “As it is, you’re always taking care of other people... You really need to take care of yourself right now.” He purred. Alana was not convinced. She knew it would only take one order for her to find out what was actually going on with him, but she reminded herself that she made a vow to only act after he told her what he had gotten himself into on his own. She thought for a minute before looking at him with conviction. “Promise me you’ll tell me what it is before you get hurt!” She demanded. Nathaniel’s eyes widened. “Just promise me that for now! I can’t bear to lose you!” She begged. Tears came to Nathaniel’s eyes, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. “I promise. You won’t lose me.” He sniffled. She could tell he felt like he was lying to her, but what he didn’t know was the lengths she’d go to ensure his safety. Her mind wandered to the orders she had set in place to protect the ones she loved. She had modified Nathaniel’s order to include Amber a few weeks prior, and was not expecting to need to adjust it anymore after that. However, his attitude made it clear that she may need to work behind his back to ensure that his enemies won’t have a chance at taking him away from her. “I might have to implement Protocol 216 early... And possibly modify it...” She thought as they began walking towards Anteros Academy.

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

This is a rewrite of the blurb “It’s About Time!!”. I’ve been wanting to rewrite that for a while now.

A good amount of it is simply bits from “It’s About Time!!” that were copied and pasted to this one... A lot has changed, but some of the actual sex bit were what I wanted to begin with....

Whereas “It’s About Time!!” was a bit of a standalone, this chapter slightly leads into “Confession”.

[fandomlurker]

A Ponderous Rewatch: Jockey For Position

Now that we’re done with that long cameo, it’s time for our feature presentation for tonight, and it’s a doozy!:

We open with Pinky frantically running on a spinning globe while Brain stands above him on the…globe holder? I don’t know if that part has a name or not.

“[winded gasps] Can I stop now, Brain?”

“Not until I finish my demonstration.”

Brain, that’s just… Well I was about to say it was mean, but given that Pinky understands the details of his plans better when Brain demonstrates it or draws elaborate diagrams, maybe it’s for the best? I doubt Brain could make that large globe spin just by using his hands, and Pinky’s been seen a lot of times running on the mouse wheel in their cage so he’s gotta be pretty in shape. Still, it feels like Pinky’s been running for a lot longer than he needed to…

You know what? I change my mind. It is a bit mean, Brain.

“When I build my reverse geotropic arrestor, Pinky, and throw it from the North Pole like this…”

The word “geotropic” doesn’t quite sound right. I wonder…

…Okay, yeah, Brain’s getting worse at naming things.

“…In a matter of seconds the cable will become taut, gravity will cease, and everyone will fly off the face of the Earth!”

Oh my GOD, Brain. This has got to be the stupidest plan you have come up with yet! Nothing about this will work.

Well, there goes poor Pinky.

“Leaving us alone to assume control.”

It’s still “us”, huh? Noted.

Long Pinky.

“Egad, Brain, brilliant! Haha hehe heh—!”

Pinky, sweetheart, I know praising Brain is kind of your thing but this is one time I’m going to have to call you out on your bias because this is super not brilliant and I’m actually a little worried for Brain’s mental state.

“—Oh wait, no, no. What’s going to keep us from flying off the Earth?”

That’s one flaw of many, Pinky, but I guess it’s as good a start as any.

“We will duct tape ourselves to a tree.”

Because the tree will totally stay in the ground when the Earth abruptly stops spinning. Not that it will stop spinning, because none of this makes any sense.

Brain, did this idea come from, like, a dream you had or something? Is that why the plan is working on dream logic?

I know this is a comedy cartoon and this is all a joke but sometimes Brain’s plans are so fucking out-there I just have to roast him for it.

“Unfortunately we still need to raise money to buy a one billion ton magnet. But I have a solution!”

Oh boy, can’t wait to hear the solution to this one. It’s gonna be stellar if the whole plan today is anything to go by.

Oh nice, Brain’s the one sewing for a change! Usually this is Pinky’s area of expertise, but it’s always nice to see that Brain can do some classically domestic things too.

“Tomorrow is the running of the Kentucky Derby. Do you know what that is?”

Most of my knowledge on it comes from “My Brother, My Brother, and Me” goofs, so my mind keeps autocorrecting it to “Kenfucky Derby”, but go on.

“Umm… Oh! A very large hat?”

“Promise me something, Pinky. Never breed.”

“I’ll try.”

Well, that’s going to come back to haunt them.

“The Kentucky Derby is the biggest horse race of the year. There’s a one million dollar purse going to the jockey riding the winning horse.”

“And I am going to win that purse!”

Okay, first off: Pinky, are you just going to stand there and stare at Brain as he gets changed? Like, I understand they’re naked normally and this is the exact opposite of stripping but umm…

Secondly: Brain, did you really have to get that up close to tell Pinky this? You two are making this too easy for me.

“Zort, Brain! A million dollar purse?!? Ooooh!~ You’re going to need matching pumps and earrings for that!”

Pinky’s got his priorities in order.

“Focus, Pinky, focus!”

“Now watch.”

And now Brain’s ordering Pinky to watch him dress and I just…I have no words. This is all so suspect. Why do you two even need a dressing screen if you’re usually naked anyway? And it shouldn’t matter if anyone sees you get dressed unless this is some weird reverse nudity taboo you two have developed and if that’s the case, why are you allowing Pinky to watch? And if it’s for a dramatic reveal WHY ARE YOU ORDERING HIM TO WATCH YOU CHANGE???

This episode is already so goddamn wild.

I am really not sure how I feel about that pan-up of Brain when he’s thrust his pelvis forward. At least the outfit is cute, though.

“Narf! Oh, Brain, I get it! You’re a beautiful lawn ornament!”

“Beautiful”, huh? Also noted.

“Look at me, narf, I’m a pink flamingo! Ahahaheh!”

Oh LORD, Pinky, how are you—?!?

“I’m a cement deer! Ah hah!”

PINKY, STOP, YOU’RE SCARING ME! D:

“Oh, I’m one of the seven dwarves, Brain!”

That’s more acceptable but Pinky, sweetie, warn me if you’re going to nightmarishly shapeshift again, okay?!

I guess we can add that to the list of random abilities Pinky has.

“Stop it, Pinky, or I shall have to hurt you.”

You are much calmer about this than I would be if this happened in front of me, Brain.

“Oh. Right-o, Brain. Narf.”

“Now let us make haste, for we have much to do before the race begins.”

“Poit.”

So then we cut to Churchill Downs, and I can only assume another roadtrip adventure was had off-screen.

“First, Pinky, we must visit the stables.”

“Inside, we will find the winning horse.”

“Err… How are we gonna do that, Brain?”

“The racing form, Pinky.”

My bet’s on... [squints] hLUUNO the horse.

“By analysing the velocity-based pace line, mile turf win and bayer speed figures, we’ll find a grade one stakes claimer who’ll give us a key horse situation.”

“Key Horse Situation” would be a great band name. Also, whoops, little bit of an error on the name plaques, background artists.

What do your mouse eyes see, Pinky?

“Err, can’t we just ride the pretty one?”

SHE!

So here she is, one of the few characters debuting in the Animaniacs run that will matter to PatB lore going forward aside from our main duo.

A fun fact for you all: Phar Fignewton’s name is a triple reference joke. “Phar Lap” was a champion thoroughbred race horse in the late 1920s and early 1930s. Fig Newtons are small pastries filled with fig paste. Lastly, “Fahrvergnügen” was a slogan for Volkswagon starting in 1990. Translated, it means “driving enjoyment”.

Phar Fignewton makes a whinnying noise and ends it off with a goofy laugh.

Brain is not impressed.

“Heavens, they’re multiplying…”

Pinky is instantly smitten with her.

BONK!

“This is a business trip, Pinky!”

“Oh. Right. Sorry, Brain.”

“Here is our horse.”

“’Daddy’s Little Angel’…”

I guess it’s an ironic nickname.

“Pinky… Are you pondering what I’m pondering?”

“Whu… I think so, Brain, isn’t Regis Philbin already married?”

…

Now I’m wondering if Pinky is suggesting that one of them marry Regis or if he’s suggesting that Regis marries the horse. Either way, what the fuck?

Yeah, same.

“The race, Pinky. By combining the statistics and my low body weight, this horse cannot lose! The prize money will be ours!”

GAH! Brain, I’ve had enough minor heart attacks from this episode because of Pinky’s eldritch morphing ability, I don’t need another one of your bizarre close-ups to do the same!

“Now I must take the place of the real jockey.”

“Hello?”

“Is this the Jockey who’s going to ride ‘Daddy’s Little Angel’?”

“Yeah.”

“This is Ed Mcmahon from Publisher’s Smearing House. You’ve just won ten million dollars.”

Pinky delightedly and silently listening in and chuckling in the back is precious.

And honestly, Brain, I don’t know why you’re crouching here, but it’s also cute.

“I won ten million dollars… I WON TEN MILLION DOLLARS! I am outta here! Later!”

The mice are lucky that he’s so excited about winning all that money that he forgets to do basic things like ask when and how he’ll get the money.

“Louie! Louie!”

“Later!”

“Who’s gonna ride my horse? I mean, Louie is the smallest, lightest jockey in the entire world!”

Did you know that there’s a weight requirement for jockeys, but no height requirement?

“Not anymore!”

“[GASP]”

Whoops, I just noticed another error, though it’s minor: Brain’s jockey outfit throughout this scene is light tan and purple instead of the pea green and purple that it’s supposed to be.

“You’re a jockey?!”

“Actually, I am a mouse in the early stages of an elaborate scheme to take over the world.”

The more this happens, the more I’m starting to think that Brain does this shtick on purpose to emotionally and mentally disarm people who would otherwise suspect that he’s not human. The fact that it works shows you just how idiotic the human beings of this world are.

“Well, fine, we all need a hobby but…will you ride my horse?”

Oh, sir, I think it’s much more than a hobby at this point. If only you knew…

“I shall ride! And win!”

His design is a little odd here, but it’s still a good pose.

So Brain next has to be weighed to make sure he meets the requirements.

“Saddle: Seven pounds. Saddle and rider: Seven pounds 3 ounces.”

So if you can recall from the previous rewatch post, a house mouse on average weighs 19g, and a common wood mouse weighs 23g (it can be up for debate which type of mouse Brain is).  Converting Brain’s 3 ounces of weight to grams would result in him weighing 85.0486g.

Brain does have a bit of a cute little potbelly thing going on, but he’s also consistently much smaller in height and width than the average adult mouse in the series. I think the incredible difference in weight is mostly coming from the heft of Brain’s, well, brain and skull…and the muscle mass packed into that tiny body to help keep him upright.

“A genetically perfect jockey! This is fantastic!”

Please don’t phrase it like that.

“…Let’s look into early retirement.”

That jockey on the left is going through some shit, man. He looks like how I feel after working an eight hour shift on the holidays.

And so we skip to the beginning of the race!

That poor, poor jockey…who changed colour schemes for some reason.

There’s Phar Fignewton with a jockey who honestly looks like he’s high.

And here’s our little mousey fella, who has somehow managed to make this aggressive horse obedient.

“Camptown race is five miles long, do-dah, do-dah.~”

He’s so happy he’s singing to himself! This is honestly so precious that I completely forgive him for not getting the lyrics correct.

Coincidentally, Daddy’s Little Angel is positioned next to Phar Fignewton.

“Ooh, isn’t this exciting, Brain?”

Uh oh.

“Pinky, what are you doing here? Your weight will disrupt my winning calculations!”

I don’t know if it’d be that off, Brain. The combined weight of two mice is still much less than that of a human jockey.

“But Brain, it’s too exciting! I—“

[TARGET LOCKED]

“Oooh! Heh. Hello.~”

I think I’m going to save my thoughts on this whole…thing until the end. Right now I will say, however, that I wasn’t quite expecting the tongue-hanging-out-of-gaping-mouth lovestruck/horny??? reaction.

“Pinky, the race is starting!”

Too late, Brain.

And we’re off!

Bye, Pinky.

“There’s baloney in our slacks…~”

Pfft.

So as the race goes on, we get to know a few more of the horses’ names: Isle of Yap (a nice callback to the first PatB short), Flamiel (which is apparently the WB writers’ favourite word?), and Leggo-my-Egoiste (a double reference to an old Eggo slogan and the name of a cologne).

The other jockeys are more than a little surprised by Brain and his steed taking the lead early in the race.

Phar Fignewton is trailing way behind.

Meanwhile, Pinky’s woken up from fainting, seeing the oncoming horses—

--and promptly freaks out and stumbles back down again.

“Victory, she waits for me! Oh, the do-dah-day!”

You really have to stop tempting fate like this, Brain.

Phar Fignewton’s very tired, but what’s this?

Is that…Pinky in harm’s way?

ThePowerOfLove.mp3

Determined and fueled by her inexplicable crush, Phar Fignewton starts gaining ground on the other horses.

Brain didn’t calculate for this!

…Oh! Hi, Warners! Looks like they’re cheering Phar on.

“Oh no! Yah! Yah! Yah!”

I didn’t think whips were allowed in races like the Kentucky Derby, but apparently they are. Their use was only restricted—not banned—in the summer of 2020, which is alarming to say the least.

On a different note, I know some of you folks are now jotting down the fact that Brain knows how to use a whip. I see you.

She makes the save!

And she also wins the race! Way to go, Phar Fignewton!

“In the words of the great Willie Shoemaker: ‘Nuts!’”

It was a good try, Brain, but honestly I’m glad you failed this time if only so that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself with your actual world domination plan’s failure later. Maybe take a couple nights off to rest up a bit and formulate plans that aren’t totally bonkers, hmm?

I might as well go ahead and talk about this now. I…am conflicted on this whole Phar Fignewton thing. It makes for a very strange one-off joke about Pinky instantly falling in love with a distaff counterpart of his that’s a horse for whatever reason…but the fact that she’s not a one-off character is baffling in and of itself. Like I’ve said before, she’s mentioned a couple of times going forward as being Pinky’s girlfriend, or as a bizarre joke at Pinky’s expense about him being in/having been in a relationship with a horse. There’s even a small running gag about Pinky’s reaction to people’s disgust about it: “People can be so intolerant!”. I don’t know if the joke is supposed to be one about racial segregation or a wink and nod to queer folks in the only way that the writers could get away with in a cartoon at the time (in a “see, Pinky’s down for a relationship with anyone, even outside of his species!” type of way).

Phar Fignewton herself is a sweetie but besides that she has no personality to speak of and we’re just meant to assume based on physical appearance that she is equivalent to Pinky. And like, she hasn’t been uplifted to human levels of intelligence and sapience like Pinky has because of Acme Labs, but she seems to be naturally sapient for some unknown reason and just simply unable to speak English.

On top of all this, the relationship is very shallow and the only reason we’re given as to why Pinky likes her is because he finds her pretty. It’s perfectly in character for Pinky to easily fall in love, as he does so with other animals a couple more times in the spin-offs, but it just feels weird that this is the one that sticks around purely to become a running gag that gets mentions that are sometimes literal years apart from one another.

And listen, I know the writers most likely made this a thing just because they thought it was a funny joke and a few of them managed to remember about Phar and would use Pinky dating her as a gag. I know this. But it doesn’t make it any less confusing and weird. I remember the jokes about Pinky and horses from way back when I first watched Animaniacs and the PatB spin-off when I was a kid and I never had any context for it because I don’t think I ever saw this specific episode. Coming back as an adult and seeing all these episodes in order and watching this one in particular and finding out the context is “Pinky thinks a horse is pretty and the horse and him are in love and long-distance dating now” is both underwhelming and leaves me with more questions than answers.

…Also, if my earlier theories on why the writers made this joke are correct, does this mean Phar Fignewton is metatextually a beard for Pinky?

I just don’t know, folks. You’re welcome to leave your thoughts on this in comments.

Let’s wrap this up.

So as we can see, Brain is, as usual, back to work on another plan that involves—

—a goddamn cannon, holy shit! What is he using the glue for? That’s a little ominous, given what’s been involved in this episode.

There’s a hammering noise in the background and we see Pinky putting up a photo of Phar Fignewton.

“Pinky, will you please stop that? I’m trying to concentrate on tomorrow night!”

Wow, you’re more irritable than usual, Brain. I didn’t think some delicate hammering would annoy you that much.

“Mwah!~”

…Despite my ramblings earlier, that’s very cute of you, Pinky. I’m sure you could’ve gotten a better photo, though.

“Why, Brain, what’re we gonna do tomorrow night?”

Try to take over the world, of course! Right, Brain?

“Guess.”

…

Umm, wow. That’s a first. You look like you’re absolutely enraged, Brain. All this over some hammering sounds?

This had me taken aback a bit when I watched it the first time, not gonna lie. We’ve seen Brain after a plan’s failure plenty of times before. He’s been frustrated, sure. Humiliated at times, or maybe he just sighs in resignation and walks off into the sunset. It always ends with him simply using these feelings to fuel the fire in him to do better tomorrow night.

This is the very first time we’ve seen him jumpy and irritated at the most minor of things and so angry that he literally refuses to participate normally in his and Pinky’s shared catchphrase. And this was for a plan that was just to fund the real plan! So why is this time any different?

Oh.

OH.

Okay, that’s… That makes a lot of sense, actually. Damn.

Hey, fanfic writers? Ya’ll ever use this as the very first time Brain experiences romantic jealousy? Let me know.

“Oh yeah, try to take over the world. Right.”

I think even Pinky’s put off by this development, if his hesitant and quiet finishing of the saying is anything to go by.

And that’s what we end off with.

All in all, this episode is a wild ride of strangeness in small moments and bizarre additions to lore and ends on the first subversion of the long-running closing gag of the series. It’s not exactly a great episode, but that ending is intriguing enough for one of the main purposes of this rewatch. In short, I’m just baffled.

Luckily the next episode is much better. Next time, the mice head on down to Tennessee to seek world domination via country music.

See you then!

[bonjour-rainycity]

Odin’s Ward ~ Chapter 2

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/629921660092514304/odins-ward-chapter-1

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word count: 2545

Warnings: None

Y/n: 8 // Loki: 10 // Thor: 14

Loki’s POV

“Come now, brother, surely you can do better than that!” Thor laughs and swings his sword in my direction.

I roll my eyes and parry, taking a few steps backwards as I do so. “You know well that this area of fighting is not my forte.”

“And it is my job as your older brother to remedy that.”

I swing towards him this time, a blow he blocks easily. “Then why do we pay the trainers so generously?”

Thor chuckles. “It shall be one of the first things I fix when I am king.”

My grip on the sword tightens. “Perhaps Father will choose me as his successor.”

Thor laughs heartily, as though the idea is preposterous. To him, it surely is. “Brother, you must understand. Father has every intention of picking me. I am the firstborn, I am known as the golden son, and I am the strongest of the two of us. I mean no offense, but surely you must see how I am the clear choice.”

Despite the lack of malice in his voice, I cannot stop the anger that rushes through me. I reset my stance and prepare to attack again with the sword.

“Forgive me for interrupting, Your Majesties, but I am afraid I am growing quite hungry. When do you propose we return indoors to take lunch?”

There’s a silence as Thor and I stare each other down, neither quite willing to give up on the coming fight. However, Lady Y/n is waiting for an answer and we both know it would be terribly rude to ignore her.

It’s so nice out, and I very much dislike the idea of wasting the day inside. So I suggest that we have our meal brought to us and eat here.

Having grown much more comfortable with us over the past months, Lady Y/n openly protests. “Here? Your Majesty, we are on the training grounds. Surely soldiers will come here soon to practice.”

I take her words into consideration and realize that she’s right. I think through an updated plan. “Very well, then. I know of a better place. Thor, Lady Y/n, return to your rooms and change into clothing suitable for a ride. Meet back here as soon as you can. I’ll take care of the preparations necessary for lunch.”

Thor grumbles at taking orders from his little brother, but Lady Y/n’s eyes sparkle with excitement. She turns and skips back inside. Thor follows with a little less enthusiasm.

{***}

About half an hour later, everything is set. The traveling party is bigger than I would have liked, but I suppose it is necessary to correctly adhere to protocol. Our party is made up of two kitchen servants, two guards, Nanny Idsol to attend to Lady Y/n, and Nanny Freydis for me. Thor was recently fortunate enough to graduate to a manservant (who is also accompanying us), but I must continue to put up with my insufferable nanny. Hopefully soon I will be rid of her. The thought makes me smile.

Each of us is to ride on a horse, with the exception of Lady Y/n and the nannies, who have a carriage. Upon hearing this, Lady Y/n frowns. “Your Graces, would it be possible for me to ride? I was used to doing so at home, and am sufficiently skilled.”

“Don’t argue with the princes,” Nanny Idsol intervenes.

“She’s not arguing.” Although I’m young, I know well how to infuse my voice and presence with authority. Nanny Idsol backs off immediately. “If you feel comfortable,” I continue, addressing only Lady Y/n, “you may certainly ride to our destination.”

She beams and curtsies her thanks. Thor sends his manservant to the stables to procure an additional horse, and soon we are on our way.

We traverse through the city and allow the people to praise us as we go. Lady Y/n looks a little uncomfortable with the attention, maybe even frightened, and I notice Thor ride closer to her, probably offering his protection. Lady Y/n frowns a little, straightens, and seems to force herself to seem more at ease. Interesting.

After about twenty minutes, we reach the edge of the main city which allows us access to the forest.

“Oh, Your Grace, what a wonderful idea,” Lady Y/n exclaims, and Thor nods in agreement. My heart soars at their approval.

Soon, we find the spot I had hoped for—a flat space nestled in the trees on the bank of a river—and the servants set up our picnic. When we eat, they give us our space, taking up residence a few hundred feet back. The guards, however, stay close to our sides. Can’t have the three most important children in the world be killed all at once, now can we?

“Lady Y/n, forgive my curiosity,” Thor starts during the second course, “but I seem to have forgotten the name and title of your father. Could you remind me?”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. They told us this ten months ago when she arrived. Was he not paying attention?

Lady Y/n’s answer is polite, but I can tell she is tired of recounting this information. Truly, at least once a week, someone questions the reasoning for her presence. “He is Yoldstadt, former diplomat to Alfheim and now rules as Alfheim’s regent in your father’s absence.”

Thor’s gaze sets, and I can tell he his about to say something rash. “Lady Y/n, are you sure there is not something more you can remember? I am unable to see what conditions are strong enough to assure you a spot nearly equal to Asgardian royalty.”

I literally stop breathing.

I try to communicate with my eyes how much Mother will scold him for his comment should she find out. And I’ll make sure she finds out. How fun this will be for me!

Lady Y/n’s face contorts in what I presume to be embarrassment. Quickly though, I realize it’s in anger.

“I am sorry, Your Highness, that I am not important enough to share your environment. Please, give me the resources necessary and I will quickly remedy the issue. It would be silly to ignore the significant role excessive wealth plays in your upbringing. As far as the royalty part goes, while I may not have the blood, I can learn all I need from you! Where shall I start first? Consuming an entire boar by myself? Or expanding my muscles to rival the size of my head? No, I think I’ll start with cultivating an obscenely arrogant attitude! That should make me worthy of this life. Thank you, Your Majesty, for your invaluable council.” With that, she stands up to her full height of possibly four and a half feet, shakes out the skirt of her dress, and stomps to her horse.

Thor’s face turns a lovely shade of purple and makes into all sorts of fun shapes. I grin widely and can’t help but bounce in my place.

Thor speaks through gritted teeth. “That girl—”

“—is fantastic,” I finish, getting up and running after her. “Lady Y/n, would you allow me to accompany you back to the castle?”

She purses her lips, thinking. Finally, she nods, and I offer her my arm.

Y/n: 10 // Loki: 12 // Thor: 16

Y/n’s POV

“Lady Y/n, what are you reading?” Prince Loki’s voice travels to reach me from the other corner of the room. Deep in my book, I decide to answer him after I finish the paragraph. Without warning, I hold only air in my hands. The book begins to float!

“Hey!” I stand to reach for it, but it’s climbing higher and higher, until finally, it hits the ceiling.

I glare at a chuckling Prince Loki. “It’s rude to take other people’s things.”

He grins haughtily. “It’s rude to ignore your prince. What are you reading?”

I continue to glare at him. “I was reading a history novel, but now it’s on the ceiling.”

“Hmmm, I suppose it is.” He doesn’t try very hard to sound concerned.

“Your Highness—” my teeth clench in an attempt to restrain my anger. He’s only teasing, after all. Reacting badly would make me into the rude one, and I mostly know better.

A shield hits the ceiling strategically and knocks my book to the ground.

“There.” Lady Sif had paused her sparring match with Prince Thor to cause my book to fall back to me. I curtsy and smile gratefully, then rush to grab my book.

“Thank you, Lady Sif!”

“A-ha-ha!” Prince Thor’s booming laugh fills the room, and I can’t help but smile myself. “Brother, your magic has been thwarted by Lady Sif!”

Prince Loki rolls his eyes but otherwise ignores the jab. He begins to walk away. “Enjoy your book, Lady Y/n.”

“Although he showed it indelicately, Loki does have a point, Lady Y/n.” Thor ends his sparring match with a quick nod to Lady Sif. “It would do you well to move around a bit. In fact, come over here, I could use some help with my exercises.”

I know better than to argue with Prince Thor, but I find myself stifling a groan. I don’t want to help him with his exercises. I shuffle towards the center of the playroom.

“Got you!”

I shriek in surprise as Prince Thor picks me up and holds me high above his head, beginning to run around the room. My scream quickly turns to a laugh as delight runs through me. It’s like I’m flying! Lady Sif and Prince Loki cheer us on as Prince Thor continues his course, holding me above his head as he goes. I gain courage and extend my arms to the side as if I was a bird. I gasp and a yelp escapes me as the prince takes it upon himself to throw me high into the air. He catches me with ease, and I relax, once again enjoying myself. The cheers from my friends increase as Prince Thor continues the game. Soon, I’m laughing so hard that tears come into my eyes. I’ve never had this much fun!

As if sniffing out the impropriety, Nanny Idsol stalks into the room. “Children,” she scolds. “What is all this commotion about?”

My laughter dies as do the cheers as Prince Thor carefully puts me down.

I gulp and step forward. “Nanny Idsol, we were just playing—”

“Do not interrupt me, young miss,” she snaps, fury flying into her eyes. I look at the ground, properly embarrassed. “You know much better than to behave like this!”

“If I may, Nanny Idsol, the fault lies with me,” Prince Thor comes to my defense. “I began the game. Lady Y/n was truly just going along.”

Nanny Idsol’s face softens as she looks upon Asgard’s golden boy. “My dear prince, do not feel as if you must defend this insolent girl.” Her gaze snaps sharply to me before turning sweetly back to Prince Thor, though her voice remains hard. “I have taught her better, I am sure.”

“Evidently not,” Prince Loki scoffs under his breath. Everyone chooses to ignore him.

“As for you, young lady,” Nanny Idsol sneers, “it is time you learn to act as a young lady should. Beginning tomorrow, you will spend your mornings learning the art of embroidery.” She looks incredibly pleased with herself for having conjured up this new idea.

I do not look up from the ground. “Yes, Nanny Idsol.”

“Now, to your chambers! I think you have had quite enough excitement for this day.”

I don’t look back as I leave the room, but I can feel the eyes of my friends on me. How embarrassing.

{***}

An hour or so after the playroom incident, I hear a quiet knock at my door. Quickly drying my tears, I shuffle to open it. Prince Loki stands before me, an impish grin on his face.

“Your Highness, what—”

“Shh!” He cuts me off, grinning. “May I come in?”

Mutely, I step back and allow him to enter.

He assesses my chambers, still devoid of decoration besides the standard Asgardian design. “Lovely room. Could do with a bit more personality though.”

Still stunned by his presence here, I answer automatically. “I don’t have many personal items since my father sent me away so quickly.”

“Ah,” is his only response. Once he’s done glancing around my living space, he turns to look at me. Upon focusing on my face, he leans in and furrows his brow. “Have you been crying?”

“No,” I answer defiantly, loathe to admit to my tears.

He straightens and nods sharply. “Good. That dreadful woman isn’t worth crying over. I don’t know why Mother and Father continue to employ her. She’s just so unpleasant.”

“She is,” I agree emphatically before reminding myself that it is rude to speak badly of others. Even if they are mean old ladies.

Prince Loki takes a seat at one of the tables in my room and I’m drawn back to the situation at hand. “Your Highness, might I ask…how are you here? There are guards in the halls at all times and Nanny Idsol would be horrified to know that we are in each other’s presence unaccompanied.”

He grins, his eyes alight with mischief. “Don’t worry, Lady Y/n, no one will find out.” He leans forward conspiratorially. “I slipped by the guards quite easily due to this new teleportation spell I’m learning.”

“Teleportation?!” My eyes shoot open and I plop into the chair across from him, my excitement effectively erasing any notions of following protocol.

His expression turns smug. “Yep. I’ve been working on it for a few months, but it wasn’t ready to show you. But now…” His eyes light up again. “Would you like to see?”

“Absolutely!”

His smile widens and he grabs my hand, pulling me to the center of my room. He takes a place about three feet in front of me. “Ready? Don’t close your eyes.”

I nod and work hard to keep from blinking. He squeezes his own eyes shut, mutters something unintelligible, and within the next second, he’s gone. There’s a tap on my shoulder. I whirl around to find him standing nowhere near where he was a second ago, arms spread out wide as if saying ‘ta-da!’

“Oh, wow!” A delighted laugh bubbles from my mouth.

He walks back to the sitting portion of my room and I follow dutifully. “I can’t do it too often because it makes me tired,” he explains, slumping into a chair. “I just thought you ought to get to see it.”

I beam. “I’m so glad you decided to show me.”

“Mother says that as I get older and become better at magic, I won’t get as tired and I’ll be able to just think the spell rather than saying it aloud.” A wistful look crosses his face. “I can’t wait for then.”

I cross my arms over my knees, wanting to reassure my friend. “You’re going to be amazing, Prince Loki.”

Surprise colors his features. “What makes you say that?”

I shrug. “I just know.”

A/n Here’s chapter 2! Let me know what you think and if you would like to be added to the tag list :) I also have another Loki x Reader up called The Queen. You can find it on my page or on my masterlist! 

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/630010330649706496/odins-ward-chapter-3

Tag list: @80strashbag @dark-night-sky-99 

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 5, Ch. 1

PART 5: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYONE FIGHTS Chapter 1 - The Magic of America

Nova

I ended up having a great time with mum in America. I have to give Penny credit, Muggle vacations aren't so bad. I can't remember the last time I spent so much time with my mum. In the morning we went to the beach and then for lunch we tried cooking the Muggle way which usually ended in disaster and us laughing. In the evening we went for a stroll and talked about dad and Quidditch and my O.W.L.s panic as they were approaching too fast.

I also decided to talk to her about Charlie because she kept teasing me, like always, and it didn't amuse me at all since all I had on my mind all Summer was Murphy. I told her about his blond hair and blue eyes and how fast he speaks and how enthusiastic he is about Quidditch. Then I told her about Penny and Andre and Tulip's crush on Jae.

I couldn't believe how fun it was talking about these things to her and even though I missed my friends, I wouldn't trade this Summer for anything in the world.

—

This year, along with my list of books and things I would require for my Fifth Year, another letter came. I knew immediately what it was about and I squealed so loudly in my room that mum ran upstairs to see what was going on.

She was a Prefect as well and she knew what was inside the envelope when I swung it around. I got up and we opened it together, standing in the middle of my room.

“Mum, they picked me! I'm a Prefect!” I started jumping up and down, hugging my mum as she started jumping with me.

“Oh, sweetheart! I knew you would become a Prefect.” She cupped my face. “Dad would be so proud.” She gave me a tight hug and then left me to write a letter to Charlie. This was the first time she didn't make her smug face when I mentioned him. Admitting that I fancied Murphy apparently did the trick.

It wasn't even a day when Pip came back with Charlie's response.

Me too!

Was all that he wrote back and I couldn't help but be excited going to the Prefect's meeting on the train with him. Besides us, Andre and Penny became Prefects as well. As it would be any doubt that miss Potions wasn't going to be a Prefect.

Bill wrote to me a few days later and I couldn't help but chuckle at his letter.

Dear Nova,

Charlie was so excited when he found out that you were picked as a Prefect beside him that he completely forgot to tell you that I was made Head Boy. I am in charge of you two now, haha!

I'm joking, we all miss you very much! I hope you're having a great Summer!

But seriously, I am keeping an eye on both of you!

Love,

Bill

The Summer was ending and it was time to go to Diagon Alley. We met Charlie and his entire family there and Charlie and I couldn't stop laughing about how we will mess with Tulip, Tonks, and Jae when they tell us something bad that they did and we'll be able to put them in detention.

Mum allowed me to go and stay with the Weasleys for my last week since she would have to go to work in a couple of days anyway.

I couldn't believe Fred and George when I saw them. They were almost taller than me! Even Charlie, who was always almost the same height as me, was now a head taller than I was and did he get more muscular, or was he always so well built?

Ginny, now 7, was so happy to see me that she almost started crying and I had to let Charlie down easily because I wanted to spend as much time with her that week. At first, he was grumpy about it but understood that spending a whole school year together was enough compared to Ginny, who had me only for a week.

Percy, now in his Second Year, actually congratulated me on becoming a Prefect which was probably the nicest thing he ever said to me. Ron was getting so good at Wizard's Chess that after beating me 3 times in a row, in what seemed like minutes, I didn't want to play anymore.

One thing that I missed the most was playing Quidditch on Weasley's fantastic Quidditch pitch. They finally allowed Ron to play and Ginny became the one who had to sit, disappointed, at the edge of the pitch.

Fred, Bill, and I played against Charlie, George, and Ron. Charlie couldn't believe that I caught the Snitch before him and the twins didn't make him forget it for days! Neither did I since I knew he was going to win the Quidditch House Cup for Gryffindor for the third year in a row anyways!

—

It was time to say goodbye to our families and go back to our second home. I couldn't wait to see the girls, even though I knew I wouldn't have the time to talk to them as much as we usually did on the train, since we would have to patrol the corridors.

After our Prefect's meeting, which was lead by no other than the perfect Bill the Head Boy Weasley, Charlie and I decided to patrol the corridors together to make Penny do it with Andre, at who she stared for the majority of the meeting and I was sure that for the first time, I listened more attentively than her.

I couldn't help myself but walk around the compartment where Murphy was the most. He caught sight of me a couple of times and smiled. I tried to be as casual about it as I could possibly be even though I was sure it was 100% obvious I fancied him.

After I passed the compartment for the fourth time, Orion invited me inside.

“Congratulations on becoming Prefect, Nova.” He said.

“Nothing surprising there, there was a 98,5% chance that Nova would be our Prefect and I only had 1,5% of a doubt that she wouldn't be.” Murphy beamed at me, making me blush.

“Yeah, congrats!” Skye actually smiled at me.

“I hope that won't take too much of your focus off Quidditch. We want to win this year and on our first practice, Murphy will present his new strategy how he reckons we could win against Gryffindor.” Orion explained. Listening to Murphy talk. What a dream come true! Even though I knew I would have to prepare myself mentally for it to listen and not daydream about going out on a date with him.

I decided it was safe to go on a break and I joined my friends in our usual compartment. Charlie came after us, he was proud as he already busted a Slytherin trying to use firecrackers in the bathroom.

“I don't understand, why I wasn't made a Prefect.” Scoffed Tonks, even though I knew she didn't want to be one.

“Why would you like to be a Prefect?” Charlie chuckled.

“So I could get myself out of trouble.” She grinned mischievously.

“They can do that.” Tulip said, pointing at Penny, Charlie, and me.

“You're right! They will keep us out of detention!” Tonks clapped, excitedly.

“Nymphadora Tonks, if you think for a second I will not take points away from you if I catch you doing something, just because you are my friend, you are highly mistaken!” Penny frowned.

“You would take points from your own House, Penny?” I giggled. I knew she would. She was going to be the best Prefect Hogwarts has ever seen. Right next to Bill, of course.

Tonks and Tulip looked at me and Charlie and we shrugged our shoulders. The second Penny looked away I winked at Tonks, letting her know that we would keep their mischief away from Penny.

If we weren't talking about Prefects and our new responsibilities, we were talking about O.W.L.s. The second Penny started talking about them I knew that Tonks was going to avoid her as much as possible this year. I didn't mind it as much as I wanted to get as many O.W.L.s as I could. I was just hoping she would be able to talk about anything else and give us a break here and there.

Deep in conversation, we almost missed the biggest scandal that has ever happened on the Hogwarts Express. Bill stopped in front of our compartment, talking to a girl. I knew she was in his year but I didn't know her name. He looked shy and his cheeks were red and the girl started eyeing him suspiciously trying to understand what was wrong with him.

“So, you see...” He ran his fingers through his long hair. Was he trying to look cool?

“I fancy you and I was wondering if you'd go out with me sometime.” He finished his sentence. Everyone in our compartment gasped. Bill turned around, now more embarrassed than before, knowing he asked a girl out in front of his friends and his little brother.

“Are you joking?” Bill turned back to her as she spoke. “I wouldn't go out with you, WEASLEY, if you were the last wizard in the world.” I felt anger rushing through my body. How dared she! She would be lucky to date a guy like Bill. He was great and attentive and an amazing and smart student. Who does she think she is?!

She walked away, leaving Bill standing there, stupified. I slowly opened the compartment door, careful not to startle him, and pulled him inside.

“Tough luck, mate.” Charlie really looked like he felt sorry for his older brother. I didn't think he would be so understanding about these sorts of things.

“Was that Emily Tyler?” Penny forgot how to closer her mouth.

“Oh, get off it, Bill!” Tonks almost shouted. We all looked at her, eyes wide open. “You deserve so much better than that twat!” Tulip and I gasped at her words. “She's not pretty enough for you and her personality is as much of a myth than the Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts.” Even though I wasn't completely sure where she was going with that, it cheered Bill up a little.

“Tonks is right, Bill.” I pulled him in a half hug and rubbed his shoulder. “You can do so much better.” His face was still stunned. Poor lad, that rejection even broke my heart.

“I reckon she was dropped on her head as a baby.” Tulip's comment came out of nowhere as she spoke for the first time since Bill joined us.

“Tulip!” Penny scolded her but couldn't hide the fact that she agreed with her.

“You are one of the best students at Hogwarts, you are smart and a great friend and you are pretty good-looking.” Tulip continued, not paying attention to us. Bill managed to give us a little smile after that compliment, his cheeks bright red.

“Yeah!” Agreed Tonks. “I always wondered if you were single by choice?”

“Yes, he is. But not his.” Charlie never knew when was the right time to mock someone or tell a joke. I gently smacked him on the head.

“Don't listen to him, Bill, he doesn't know what he's talking about.” I said.

“Well, he's not wrong.” Sighed Bill and buried his face in my shoulder.

“You will find the right girl Bill, we are sure of it. Wouldn't you say so, Charlie?” Penny hissed his name as she was still glaring at him for what he said.

“Yeah! Mate, listen.” He scratched the back of his head like he did every time he was embarrassed about something, his cheeks slightly turning red. “You're too much of a man for that Emily twat. You can do better and besides, mum wouldn't approve of her anyway.” Charlie awkwardly leaned over me to pet Bill on the head. I couldn't help but chuckle. Never ask Charlie for love advice, got it.

—

Tulip and I paid attention to this year's Sorting Ceremony as we wanted to see in which House Penny's little sister was going to be sorted. We weren't at all surprised she was a Hufflepuff as well and I couldn't help but laugh as I looked at the Gryffindor Table and saw Charlie gave out a sigh of relief. Penny told him on the train that Beatrice still had a crush on him and he was hoping ever since that she wouldn't become a Gryffindor.

We knew that the professors are going to give us more work than ever since it was our O.W.L.s year but what they were putting us through just in our first two weeks was pure torture. After the first week, I had more homework than all the previous years combined.

As we learned that studying is better together, we spent every sunny day down by the Lake, writing our essays and checking each other's answers. Even Tonks joined us since both Jae and Tulip wanted to study as well. I doubted Tulip wanted to study as much as she wanted to be close to Jae.

“It is better to do this a couple of times per week and be on track with homework than doing everything last minute.” Penny scolded her. “We do have O.W.L.s this year, you know.”

“You don't say.” Charlie mocked her while Tonks rolled her eyes.

Days were going by faster than ever, with the homework, the insane amount of Quidditch practice Orion wanted us to have, and studying for O.W.L.s I barely had any time to spend with Charlie and if I didn't like Ginny so much I would say that I regretted not spending more time with him when I was at the Burrow.

[sugarandsoft]

Mother Duck

request: Can I request for a fluffy uraraka x male child reader oneshot ? The reader is a 6 years old homeless orphan who is saved by uravity, and he likes being carried in her arms. She will bring him at ua to take care of him like her little brother and he is clingy to her because she was the first person to ever care for him.

It’s been over a month since I’ve written, I’ve just become busy with school and once I established a routine I realized that I didn’t give myself time to write! This is the first time I’ve ever written for a male reader, so hopefully I can meet your expectations. Please let me know if anything should be changed. Thank you so much for waiting! Feel free to comment, I love getting feedback :) 

 Requester further asked to name the reader, so this is more of an OC oneshot. 

pairing: Uraraka x male!oc

word count: 1.4k

Hikaru didn’t really remember what happened earlier in the afternoon. He just knew he was trying to find a kind-looking person to spare him some food or change, until suddenly some sort of earthquake hit the town and he was knocked to the ground. There was one thing that was engraved into his mind, however.

Through the pounding pain in the back of his skull (which was probably bleeding, but Hikaru couldn’t bring himself to move any of his limbs), he felt someone pick him up. It was the warmth of someone kind and heroic. As the last of his strength left his fluttering eyelids, Hikaru briefly saw the round, concerned face of a teenage girl.

He woke up in an unfamiliar room, in a white bed with clean sheets. Hikaru immediately sat up, but the throbbing in his head stopped him from moving any further. There was a loud beeping machine next to the bed, and the young boy realized that it’s noises had only increased in speed when he sat up. A man wearing a white coat burst into the room. Hikaru flinched, but then recognized the man’s attire.

A doctor.

The doctor sat in the chair next to the bed and smiled. “Hello, kid. I’m glad to see you’re awake already. We thought you may have had some brain damage, but it appears to only be a concussion.” Most of the vocabulary was medical stuff that Hikaru didn’t understand. How could he? He was a six-year-old boy living on the streets of Mustafu. He’d never had anyone tend to his cuts or bruises, let alone a doctor to give him a physical checkup.

The doctor, who introduced himself as Dr. Yamamoto, continued to ramble on and even prodded Hikaru’s body with some strange looking instruments. He reassured the boy that nothing was going to hurt, but to let him know if anything felt strange. After a few minutes of confusing examination, Dr. Yamamoto left the room. 

A sudden thought flew into Hikaru’s mind. Money. Everything in the world costs money. Food, clothes, school, medicine. Who was going to pay for this? A fear spread throughout his body, and he fought the urge to sprint out of bed and back out into the streets. Then, a small noise caught his attention. It sounded like several people were talking outside of his hospital room. 

From what he could hear, there were two women and one man, probably Dr. Yamamoto. Hikaru couldn’t make out that many words, though. He was only able to grasp bits and pieces. 

“Parents--- him up?”

“No…. street -- ward of..”

“... few nights,”

“Part--- internship..”

Eventually, the voices drifted away into nothing. The door opened again, and this time there were two new people. One of them was a taller blonde woman, with short hair and a strange looking headpiece that covered part of her face. Hikaru’s eyes shifted to the person next to her and gasped. It was the pretty lady who saved her! She was much shorter, with the same round cheeks and short brown hair. Her outfit was mostly pink with some dark accents. They must be heroes, Hikaru deduced. That’s why the chubby cheeks girl had saved him.

“Hey, kid, you feeling alright I’m Ryukyu, what’s your name?” The older woman asked him. She was kind of intimidating, but Hikaru felt safe in her presence. 

“I’m H-Hikaru,” he stuttered out. “When can I leave?”

“Well, since there’s no one listed to contact you, we’re going to have to wait a little longer to make sure no adults come by to claim you first,” she told him.

“I don’t have parents. It’s just me.” 

Ryukyu frowned. “Don’t worry, Hikaru, we’ll be taking care of you for a little while and we’ll find you somewhere to stay.”

-------

As Hikaru suspected, no one came by to ask for him during the rest of the day. As the sun started to set, Ryukyu returned again with the girl who saved him. He learned that her hero name was Uravity. 

“Hikaru, the hospital’s visiting hours are going to end soon. You can stay here if you’d like, but we think it’s probably better for you to be able to walk around and sleep in a more comfortable place. How does that sound?” He nodded, unable to find the words to convey how he was feeling. They were just going to take him in? Just like that? 

As if she could read his mind, Uravity smiled and added, “As heroes, it’s our duty to protect people and take care of them! You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

So it was decided that Uraraka would take care of Hikaru until the weekend, when the city got back on its feet after the damage from the disaster. By then, there’d be a social worker available to take on Hikaru’s case. 

Ryukyu went back to her own office, and Uraraka was dismissed for the day. She picked Hikaru up and carried him during the whole walk to Heights Alliance, the dorms at U.A. Hikaru decided that this felt nice. It’d been forever since he felt warmth and love from somebody. He never would’ve thought that a complete stranger could show him so much kindness.

Upon their arrival U.A, Hikaru started complaining because the chubby-cheeked girl had to put him down. “Urara-nee, pleaaaaase,” he whined. He made grabby fists in attempt to sway her, but Uraraka thought it’d be better for Hikaru to introduce himself to the rest of Class 1-A before she carried him up to her room.

The reaction of the class was pretty even across the board. The girls, of course, gushed over the cute little boy who was in their care for the next few days. They did everything they could to get his attention, but Hikaru only had eyes for his savior. No matter how many snacks they offered or attempts, none of the girls could stop him from hanging onto Uraraka’s legs. 

“Aw, he’s so cute! Like a baby duck following its mom,” gushed Mina. Even when Uraraka had to finish up the classwork she missed for her internship, Hikaru insisted on sitting on her lap. He wrapped his arms around her neck like a monkey, embracing her warmth as if she were his actual mom. 

On the other hand, the boys were pretty nonchalant about it. Bakugou wasn’t impressed at all by the little pipsqueak, and Todoroki simply greeted him before retreating back to his room. Iida first asked Uraraka if it was even okay to have a non-student at their dorm, and was pretty intimidating until she reassured him that it was approved by Ryukyu and principal Nezu. 

Deku was nice to Hikaru as he reminded him a lot of Kota, the boy he had saved during their class’s summer training camp. Luckily, Hikaru didn’t have nearly as big of a rebellious streak as the other little boy. From what Hikaru saw, the way Deku and Uraraka talked to each other reminded him of the couples he saw on TV. When he blurted that out, the girl immediately turned a bright red, stuttering out that it was time for Hikaru to go to bed and say goodbye. 

For a kid who’d just been through hell and back in one day, Hikaru was pretty wiped out. He offered little resistance when Uraraka took him to the bath and gently washed him off. When she washed his hair, Hikaru started nodding off. It was nice, having someone look after him for once. When Uraraka noticed that the little boy’s eyes were now closed, she picked him up, dressed him in some clothes the hospital gave her, and tucked him into her bed. Before she could walk back down to the living area, she felt a tug on her sleeve. It was Hikaru, subconsciously gripping onto the warmth he’d become attached to. It was as if he was saying, please stay with me.

She smiled and tucked herself into bed with him, holding him closely against her body. Even if she couldn’t give him a family, Uraraka knew she wanted to make him remember what the love of one felt like. 

_____________________

And that’s a wrap! Wow, it was longer than I expected. You might tell that it’s a little rushed from the middle to the end. I really need to improve on that. Once again, please let me know if you want anything changed! I’m still accepting requests. Hope you all have an amazing, spectacular, fantastic day!

[artisticflutter]

AU August - Day Twenty-Two: Sci-Fi

Yoohoo! This one took a while because... it just did. I’ll have notes one things that help visualize what everything looks like dooon’t worry~

Series: Final Fantasy IX Rating: T Genre: Romance, Sci-Fi Pairing(s): Zidane x Garnet (Zidagger) Summary: Garnet’s anxious. She knew she was meant to be wedded to the ruler of Terra, but this would be her first time properly meeting them. Warning: A prequel to a previous crossover fill! (aka the Miraculous Ladybug one)

Garnet held her hands daintily folded one over the other before her, though her fingers hidden beneath twitched slightly. It hadn’t been that long since she’d been crowned, but by the law of the crystals, the time had come.

Gaia and Terra - two planets that orbited the same sun and shared two moons between them. It hadn’t always been like this - Terra with many of its advancements years ahead of Gaia had managed to move through space. It wasn’t always cordial between them either as Terra had been hostile, their superior technology however finding itself matched by Gaia’s magic. But when a Gaian and a Terran came together, the fighting had stopped. The crystals which all life came from, but Terra’s had been dying. It was by choice the two saved the crystal and brought peace between the worlds; and by the crystals it continued, the two planets as a collective coming to be known as Gaea.

Chosen by Gaia’s Crystal at birth, Garnet would wed the King of Terra and together, they would continue overseeing both planets. Even though they ultimately would, she still wondered what her betrothed would be like. Terra’s crystal wouldn’t choose someone terrible, but both of them would have to see past mortal problems and see the natural and extraterrestrial. Even if they were ‘good’, she was worried - what if the King was a cold and affectionless individual? They still had to care about the Kingdoms on each planet and their citizens to a fair degree; and they should be capable of caring for each other.

She remembered going to Terra once and it was quite the opposite of Gaia. It had felt cold, and it was difficult to tell what was nature from the machine; however, she had felt life pulsing from the planet. And thinking back to that visit, she did manage to recall they never left the main Kingdom of Bran Bal. There could’ve been more to Terra such as natural elements that she just hadn’t seen. Perhaps after she was wedded, she could see more of it?

A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts and it opened soon after.

“Your Majesty, Terra’s ship approaches,” her General, Beatrix, informed with a bow. Turning away from her window, Garnet nodded.

“Thank you, General...” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “... I’m ready.”

Stepping outside her door, Captain Steiner was waiting to escort her together with the General. He snapped a salute to Garnet and she nodded her head back in acknowledgement. These two had been her knights and personal advisors since her childhood - she was going to miss them. Whoever became her new knights after the union, she hoped to get along with them.

The grand crystal of Alexandria shimmered as always in the sunlight, its radiant brilliance also a reflection of the planet’s health below. Today, there was a difference - not that anyone could see it, but the way the lights danced from its surface in cool waves, it was greeting the sleek blue ship descending from the sky in its own way. It was easing its entry into their atmosphere and lower, stilling the lake as it came to hum above the water.

Garnet mentally noted that the design of the Terran ship was very much their planet. Still, perhaps Regent Cid just liked to over design his ships with unnecessary bits. She resisted a giggle and trained her expression as the teleport circle appeared before her, Beatrix, and Steiner.

The first to appear was a woman around her height with fair skin just a touch darker than Garnet’s own and wearing what was a deceptively simple attire with rosy geometric shapes upon white material. Her golden blonde hair just barely reached her shoulders and her green eyes gazed around the stone platform briefly before catching Garnet’s eye. She bowed, “Your Majesty, Queen Garnet, I am Mikoto, the King’s Advisor. On his behalf, I greet you first.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mikoto,” Garnet replied, giving the woman a smile. “I welcome you.”

With a deep bow, Mikoto stepped off the teleport circle. And with her aside, it glowed again and the next figure emerged. They were tall - much taller than Garnet herself, and even standing above Steiner. Long silver hair, cool blue eyes, their complexion was paler than hers and Mikoto’s, and his attire was more. It was closer to the attire of a nobleman of Gaia than what she would expect of Terra, but she could also see the sharp, geometric elements in the accents.

“Your Majesty,” they - he - said with a deep bow. He had a look when he stood, but she couldn’t decide if it was a smile or a smirk, but it wasn’t malicious. “I am Kuja, the King’s Strategist. On his behalf, I greet you second.”

“Pleased to meet you as well, Kuja,” Garnet answered, smiling at him too. “I welcome you.”

Now with a slight nod, he moved aside and Garnet felt her heart speed when the circle glowed again. Was the King coming now? Were the Advisor and Strategist their guard then? She almost wanted to check her dress over to make sure nothing was out of place, but it was too late, another body was appearing.

And she felt her face turn red.

Standing taller than Mikoto, but shorter than Kuja, he had dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and his skin suggested he might be far more familiar with sunlight. And there was plenty of skin to see, more than Garnet had purposely seen exposed on anyone. The off-shoulder cloak exposed plenty of chest and the skirt he wore - while long on his legs - was quite low at his hip. Was that a tail, too? She couldn’t even focus on the blue designs or trim; she was struggling to focus on his face. And out of the corner of her eye, Kuja was smirking.

Oh, strategist indeed.

“If I may, Your Majesty,” Mikoto’s voice cut in, almost making Garnet jump. “Introducing His Majesty, King Zidane of Bran Bal and the Chosen of Terra’s Crystal.”

“Ah… Um, yes. Greetings, King Zidane…” She was doing her best to maintain her composure, but he smiled. Oh dear, he was the very opposite of that cold personality she was concerned previously about. “Welcome to the Kingdom of Alexandria and Gaia. Shall we attend to matters in the conference room?”

“Hold on a moment.”

Garnet blinked and watched, slightly flushed still, as Zidane reached under his cloak. In a moment, he pulled out… a flower, covered by a glass dome and set on a pedestal. Wait, that flower… she’d seen it before.

“I don’t know if you remember, but even if you don’t, I believe I should present my wife-to-be with a gift.”

“Oh…” Garnet gazed upon the flower longer, stepping closer. “... It… looks like the buildings around Bran Bal. Though, the blossom curls up… Wasn’t it glowing before?”

“They shine in the dark, but look purple under Terra’s moon,” Zidane explained, beaming as she accepted the pot. “But that’s probably why you don’t--”

“... No, no, I do recall a boy handed me one. I was awfully rude that day, but a meeting had gone past my bedtime. I was half-asleep… and didn’t you run away once you did?”

“What? Me? Run away??” Zidane gasped, but then, he scratched his cheek. “I… may have done that. I was a little nervous when I was a kid. Most of that is my Strategist’s fault.”

There was a look shot Kuja’s way and the taller man looked far too pleased with himself. Garnet was bewildered by how casual the two seemed to be, but again, she was trying not to laugh. It wouldn’t be appropriate even if their antics were amusing. Zidane rolled his eyes and shook his head before smiling her way. “Right, I guess we should proceed with preparations…?”

“Mmm, yes. Come, this way.”

Handing over Zidane’s gift to Steiner, she accepted the King’s hand when he held it out to her. Meeting his eyes, and then walking alongside him, this marriage ordained by the Crystals may not be as bad as she feared.

---

Notes: Terra’s very much like itself in-game, but most plants and vegetation is outside of the cities save for specially domed zones that can raise/protect more delicate flora/fauna.

Meanwhile, imagine Gaia more like Treasure Planet movie in technological advancements enhanced further by magic. So still Victorian fantastical future sci-fi.

The flower is based off Jade Vines (look it up~).

[bakudekuficlibrary]

Do you have any fics with a deaf or blind Bakugou or Midoriya? Doesn't matter if it's angst, fluff, or whatever, I love all types ^w^

All righty, here we go. I found a ton of these! The tags are riddled with Koe no Katachi AUs, as to be expected (KnK is The Sob-Inducing BombTM). But there’s a ton of really cool and interesting fics that diverge from that. Thank you for your patience^^ I hope you like.

Also, be sure to check out the Disabled Bakugou list curated by Jay!

~Gabs ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

25 works.

Actions Speak Louder by TsunaidaMay( E | 38,438+ | 10/14 )

When Bakugou Katsuki meets Midoriya Izuku at a Pro Hero fan event, he’s intrigued by the intricate way Izuku’s hands move, emphasizing every word and phrase. After another chance meeting, Katsuki will soon come to learn that sometimes, actions speak louder than words.

The Way You Used to Do by edema_ruh( T | 347,037+ | 20/? )

“We’re really sorry,” his father says, in a teary-eyed, wobbly way. “But your friend, Izuku, he’s… He’s gone, son.”

Katsuki can do nothing but blink up at them for moments that feel like an eternity, eyes darting between both his parents in obvious confusion, disbelief, and, more than anything, indignation.

“What the fuck are you two talking about? The damn nerd is standing right beside you!”

During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Stuck in a ghost-like state, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in this state is no one other than Kacchan.

Alternatively: Deku and Kacchan are soulbound.

[PTSD]

Some Wannabe Hero! by Superior_Mustache( M | 50,792+ | 14/25 )

Katsuki had bullied Izuku for nearly all his life for being deaf and Quirkless. After middle school, they went their separate ways, never to see each other again. Ten years later, however, when Izuku moves back into his old neighborhood, a familiar face jumps back into his life. But neither of them are sure if they want to reopen old wounds.

Senses by Phayte( E | 22,294+ | 6/? )

In a freak accident through battle, Bakugou loses his sight. This is the story of his struggle, downward spiral, and the friends that get him through it. 

Hand Speak by crackmonster( E | 30,350 | 12/12 )

“You think you’re some hotshot, huh? You’re not going to even apologize, are you?” Bakugou folded his arms, waiting for him to get on his knees with grief, but he turned around and picked something up from the counter inside. “Hey! Hey are you serious? I’m talking to you!”

Bakugou had no qualms about barging into his house uninvited. “I said I’m talking to you! Are you Deaf-” 

Blue snow by Darkshadow( T | 908 | 1/1 )

A bullied Izuku meets a blind Katsuki in the park.

I guess… I’ll just… fuckin read this by TheGeekProblem( G | 1,533 | 1/1 )

Izuku works the graveyard shift in a diner and he’s really tired. A group of people come at 2 a.m. What could go wrong? 

Dull by choimarie( G | 714 | 1/1 )

“What? Never have seen a hot dude before?” 

Learning A Thing Or Two by overworldpumpkin( G | 654 | 1/1 )

Bakugou meets somebody new and interesting on his first day. 

love is blind (and deaf) by kagehinataboke( T | 789 | 1/1)

Izuku hesitantly opens the door, wielding an umbrella and ready to square up against a mugger. but it’s only one of his neighbors: a new one, in fact. Izuku faintly recalls him moving in a few weeks ago, but one unfriendly glare was enough to stop him from approaching.

he discreetly drops the umbrella behind the door. “can i help you?”

— a bakudeku one-shot

Learning Curve by iknewaman( G | 10,304 | 1/1 )

“Izuku.” Uraraka repeats as she motions at the person stood next to her. Green curls, average height, and, well. Up close, not such a bad smile. Uraraka points a thumb at Bakugou and enunciates slowly, “This is Bakugou. He can speak sign language too.”

Wait. Sign language?

The stranger— well, Izuku— looks at him with a raised brow. Their free hand lifts up as they make a slight motion of the hand.

‘Really?’

*

Bored out of his mind at a house party one night Bakugou is introduced to Izuku, a deaf student who offers to help teach Bakugou sign language in exchange for a favor– or well, is prompted into asking for a favor.

Missed Connections by Labellevita( M | 9,765 | 3/5 )

Deaf Uni student Bakugou can’t catch a break, but he does catch the scent of a fantastic smelling omega. 

Hackles Raised by Sanctioned_Chaos( T | 3,357 | 1/1 )

Twenty-six year-old Midoriya Izuku takes a trip to the past in the middle of grocery shopping for him and his mate, Bakugou Katsuki. It’s happened before but it’s always managed to be different each time. Still, doesn’t change the fact that he usually only travels when he’s needed. He shouldn’t be surprised coming face to face with a teenage Katsuki mid-panic attack.

His inner alpha bares his teeth and Izuku worries.

Silenced. by RJDAZE( T | 2,644 | 1/1)

When Bakugou was bit, he didn’t die. He was one of the few people that lived. But he lived for a price, and that price … it was his quirk.

OR

Bakugou runs into Deku while he’s in a bad situation and helps him. They talk— they really talk.

transfigured night by bittermoons( M | 6,044 | 1/1 )

An unexpected hospital trip changes things between Izuku Midoriya, age forty-four, and his longtime roommate, co-parent, and co-composer, Katsuki Bakugou.

Do You Hear What I See? by SilentJo( M | 2,156+ | 1/? )

Nearly deaf from the use of his own quirk, Bakugou fights to keep his dreams alive, despite knowing his career will only last as long as his hearing.

When a villain’s attack takes Midoriya’s sight, Bakugou is overwhelmed with guilt that it was his fault Midoriya’s hero career was over.

But Midoriya was never one to just give up, now was he?

No Warning by DeafBakugou( G | 10,375 | 1/1 )

Bakugou survives a natural disaster and has to navigate the world without the normal accommodations he depends on as a Deaf individual.

To Fight and Protect by HapSky( T | 2,566 | 1/1 )

The officer laughs then, and claps Katsuki’s shoulder. “You guys really fit the ‘go big or go home’ attitude! If I weren’t on the job right now, I’d praise you. Really nice teamwork there–every villain got caught and every citizen was protected,” he clears his throat and retreats his hand, “but I’m on the job right now so you didn’t hear any of that,” he winks then and adds, in a forced serious voice, “You could do better regarding own safety and quirk overuse next time.”

Katsuki grins, because he knows he didn’t kill the villains yesterday, and knows the villains didn’t get past Izuku to kill anyone either.

Lost the Fight by Katt1848( T | 1,733 | 1/1 )

Every Hero remembers the first time they weren’t able to save someone. This is Katsuki’s.

Angel Down by Baltic_Breath( M | 16,008 | 3/3 )

After Midoriya Izuku throws himself out of a window because of him and almost dies, Katsuki comes down from his high horse real fucking quick.

He decides to be responsible for what he caused.

(glimpses into the lives of Katsuki and Izuku in the aftermath of Izuku’s suicide attempt in middle school.)

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

Finding Out and Confessions by Needle_In_A_NeedleStack( G | 605 | 1/1 )

Bakugo is deaf, that’s why he’s always so loud. He hasn’t told anyone. So when Midoriya Izuku accidentally finds out Bakugo’s secret, how will things change.

[Discontinued] Listen to the Heart by milkcandie( M | 25,682+ | 5/? )

Katsuki wants to remake what he had demolished (broke, cut, destroyed), every little thing that he had single-handedly set on fire and every moment that he had crushed under his foot. The past is irreparable, but when he sees Izuku, he feels like he can believe in the impossible again.

☆ A Koe no Katachi AU where Izuku is deaf and Katsuki dedicates his entire being to see him smile.

Omniscient Eyes by everlastingspaghetti( T | 11,285 | 1/1)

Katsuki wasn’t sure what to say about this. All his life, he'd— he was a horrible person; both inside and out.

He didn’t deserve whatever this is. He didn’t deserve anything, not when the boy he’d tormented relentlessly was shaking in front of him, with outstretched limbs a sincere smile dripping down his face, tears smacking the concrete.

Katsuki wanted to say something— anything, but then Deku had looked up at him - through a tearful gaze of forest green - and softly gasped, “I forgive you, Kacchan.”

Silent Voice, Loud Gestures by ReadingHell( T | 10,001 | 3/3 )

“My name is Bakugou Katsuki”

“If you need to talk to me, use this notebook”

“I can’t hear”

Koe no Katachi AU

Say Something by limesicle( T | 4,520 | 1/1 )

Katsuki pushes and pushes until he pushes too far. He is left guilty until Izuku returns to give him–not a second chance, or even a third–another chance.

[quickspinner]

Motorcycle Fairy Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

I was planning on just a two part story, but it’s gonna be three. Motorcycle Fairy isn’t on AO3 yet, I’ll post it as a chapter of I’ll Never Not Know You when all the parts are complete. 

It was a really nice day, Luka reflected as he sat on the bench outside of the shop, playing his guitar. The remains of his lunch sat beside him. He let his eyes fall closed, lost in the music, enjoying the breeze that ruffled his hair. 

“Luka!”

Luka jumped slightly, the song cutting off inelegantly. He looked up and saw Marinette standing there with her hands over her mouth and an expression of horror. “I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I just—we were listening and it was so pretty, and then I saw your face and I was surprised—I didn’t mean to interrupt you!”

“Marinette!” Luka scrambled to his feet and shrugged out of the strap of his guitar. “Hey, how’ve you been? Oh, uh, don’t worry about it, I’m just on my break and I was just messing around, you really didn’t interrupt anything.”

She relaxed a little, her shoulders coming down from her ears and her hands coming down from her mouth, and his attention was much too focused on that mouth when she spoke again. “It sounded great, though, what you were playing.”

“Well...thanks,” he grinned, moving his gaze quickly back up to her eyes. “Glad to see you back. I saw the helmet on your Instagram, by the way, it looked sick.”

“I’m surprised you remember me,” Marinette hunched her shoulders slightly again. She had on shorts today, pink with a white flowy top, and her hair done in pigtails, like in the picture she’d shown him, only longer. 

“Of course, your art was really fantastic,” Luka said, not even really knowing what he was saying. “I really wanted to see the finished picture so I’ve been following your Instagram, and you had a lot of cool stuff on there, so...yeah, I remembered.” God, just kill him. 

“Ah, yes, my little Marinetta is so talented,” said the older woman standing beside her, putting her hands on Marinette’s shoulders and squeezing. “The new helmet was a lovely surprise.” 

Marinette beamed up at her. “Luka, this is my grandmother Gina Dupain. Grandma, this is Luka, he’s the one who helped me out last time.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mme Dupain,” Luka offered his hand.

“Call me Gina,” the grey haired woman smiled, shaking it. “Well, we won’t disturb your break, my dear, we just came to do a little shopping. I am taking my little Marinetta to Le Mans with me.” Gina put her arm around Marinette’s shoulders and smiled at her affectionately. “We need to get her some equipment so that my fairy will be safe and comfortable for the ride.”

“I’m actually just about due back, so let me clean up here and I’ll meet you inside.” Luka smiled at Marinette, trying to pretend his heart wasn’t trying its best to escape his chest. “We’ll get you all set.” 

The ladies went inside and Luka scrambled to clean up the rest of his lunch quickly. He zipped up his guitar, reminding himself to breathe. He was at work and there was no way he was going to let the butterflies in his stomach keep him from doing his job. He rubbed his hands on his jeans, blowing out a slightly frustrated breath. Sure she was cute and sweet and talented and he’d maybe been nursing a small (maybe not so small anymore) crush since she came in the first time and maybe he’d daydreamed once or twice about what he’d do or say if she ever came in again, but this was his job and this was real life and Michel trusted him to not screw this up, so he was going to go in there and at least pretend that he had himself together. 

She was the same girl who had knocked over his displays and chattered nervously the last time she was here. Before he knew that in addition to being cute and sweet, she was a video game champion, a creative genius who rubbed elbows with rock stars, and a savvy marketer for her fashion business. On top of that she still made time to decorate cookies with her dad, promote her friends’ accomplishments, and plant trees for community projects.

Not that he’d been stalking her social media or anything. He just...followed her. And noticed when she put up new things. She was just so interesting and her projects were amazing...

Luka shook his head at himself and picked up his guitar. Okay. I can get through this without sounding like a stalker or a perv.

Michel was already talking to Gina when Luka made it inside. “—and my Marinetta says your boy was so kind to help her last time,” Gina was saying. “And that you had a bigger stock of materials for women than the other shops she visited.”

“Yes ma’am,” Michel nodded with grave politeness. “It’s certainly our goal to make sure we have everything our customers need—all our customers.”

“I will have to let my club know about this place,” Gina remarked. 

“And with those words, your grandma just won Michel’s heart forever,” Luka leaned over Marinette’s shoulder to murmur. She giggled, and he grinned. “I’ll be right back, just let me drop my guitar in the back.” 

“Take your time,” she said, reaching up to pat his shoulder. “We’re not in a hurry.” 

Luka blushed all the way to the back, and felt like a fool for it. Thankfully Jean was nowhere in sight. Luka suspected Michel had sent him on break as soon as the women walked in. He stashed his guitar and practically jogged back to the front of the store. 

“Okay, I’m all yours,” he said, hopefully not too breathlessly, and wanted to kick himself. “What can I help you find?” he tried instead.

“Oh, um…” Marinette glanced at Gina, but she was still talking to Michel. “Um, well I have a helmet, but Grandma said I needed riding boots? And glasses. And a jacket with padding?”

“Okay, we can do that,” Luka smiled. “Boots are probably easiest, we only have a few kinds for women, so there’s not as much to pick from. We have about eight thousand different kinds of glasses,” he rolled his eyes but grinned back at her when she giggled. “Should we wait for Gina, or…”

Marinette shook her head. “It’s fine, she’ll come find us. She’s very chatty, so she might be a while.” 

“Okay, then, right this way,” he touched her arm with the tips of his fingers and indicated the direction with his other hand. “So, Le Mans, huh?”

“Yes, Grandma’s club is racing and she said she has to—how did she put it—” Marinette put her nose in the air and said in an affected Italian accent, “Nonna Gina will teach these young idiots why they should respect their elders!” 

Luka laughed a little harder than he should have as he gestured toward the shelf with their display models. “So your choices are a little limited, like I said, but you can go with the ankle boot or the taller ones, that’ll probably come up to about—” He looked down at her legs and then paused and ripped his gaze away. “Um, a little below the knee? Maybe a little higher on you because you’re—”

“Short?” Marinette finished with a giggle. 

“Yeah,” Luka grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s a fact,” Marinette shrugged. “I’ve accepted it. I’m taller than my mom, at least, but on the height front it looks like the Cheng blood won out over the Dupain.” She grinned.

“They do look a bit of an odd couple,” Luka chuckled. “Adorable though. I saw them on your Insta too. It looked like there was a lot of love there.”

Marinette’s grin widened. “There really is. So do you have a recommendation?”

“I like the taller boots when I ride,” Luka shrugged, “More protection is always good, plus you’re less likely to accidentally burn yourself on the exhaust.” 

“Ooh, good point,” Marinete said, wincing in a way that made Luka think she had experience with that hazard. 

“Oh, we do have one mid-calf model, that’s new,” Luka pointed to it. “Some women prefer to wear the men’s boots, so we have more options in those, but to be honest I don’t think they’re going to come small enough for you.” 

They discussed it a little further, and then Marinette picked out a couple of options. She took a pair of socks—knee socks, as it turned out—out of her purse and Luka made the mistake of watching her pull them on and up her leg. Marinette flashed him a smile in the middle of his internal meltdown that didn’t help at all. 

Even worse, the stiff new leather gave her some trouble and Luka had to get down on one knee to help her get the boots on, trying desperately not to touch her any more than necessary. “Thanks,” she sighed when her foot was finally in the first one. He helped her get the second option on her other foot, and held her hand to steady her as she walked back and forth with them, a little wobbly as one had a thicker heel than the other. She picked one and then he had to help her get the wrong one off (professional, he promised Michel he’d be professional) and put on the mate of the one she’d picked. Marinette walked carefully back and forth in them and Luka folded his arms, bringing one hand up over his mouth and praying he wasn’t too obvious. 

“What do you think?” Marinette asked, turning to look at the boot in the mirror. It was nearly knee-high on her as he predicted, a black harness boot with pink hardware all the way up one side for lacing and a rugged rather than decorative sole and heel. It had enough height in the heel for her to ride comfortably, but not enough to cause her any trouble.  

I think you’re going to be so hot all geared up, Luka groaned in his head. “I think you’ll need to wear them for a bit and break them in, but other than that—are they comfortable? Because they look great on you.” That wasn’t too much, right? Still professional.  

“They feel pretty good,” she said thoughtfully. “The size feels right. They’re a little stiff, but they don’t rub anywhere weird.”

Luka was saved from having to reply to that by Gina descending on them. She made Marinette walk in them again, cooed over her “fairy” until Marinette was red-faced and Luka was trying not to laugh at her. “You can keep them on while we find the rest of your gear if you want,” Luka suggested. “That way you can walk around in them a bit, make sure they’re still comfortable.” Marinette gave him an excited smile and did a little eager bounce and Luka maybe died just a little bit. 

It actually didn’t take too long for Marinette to pick a pair of glasses; she went straight for a chrome and pink pair with rhinestones along the top and mirrored lenses, and she looked so adorable with them and so pleased with herself that Luka couldn’t help his grin. While Gina teased her about her pink addiction, Luka slipped away into the racks and came back with a mesh padded jacket that had pink panels with reflective piping in the front and back and down the arms. Marinette squealed and nearly hugged him as Gina laughed. Marinette put on the jacket and zipped it up. Gina checked the padding placement with the air of experience, and asked Luka for the next size down. He brought it and this time Gina nodded in satisfaction.

Nearly vibrating with excitement, Marinette put on her new glasses and checked herself out in the mirror. “How do I look?” she giggled, turning toward him. With her pink shorts and pigtails she looked more like a poster model than an actual biker, but even so— 

“You look amazing,” he told her, maybe more honestly than he should have. “Would you mind if I took your picture for our social media page?” He looked at Gina. “I’m sure Michel told you we’re looking to expand our female clientele.” 

“It is Marinetta’s decision,” Gina said with an indifferent shrug, “I have no objections if she does not.” 

With Marinette’s permission, he took her picture and then a picture of her and Gina together. 

“You’re adorable,” he chuckled absently as he posted the pictures. 

“Adorable?” Marinette repeated, deflating slightly, and Luka flushed. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. So much for professional, although...that didn’t seem to be what was bothering her. As cute as she was she probably got that all the time, he realized, glancing at her pouting face. Adorable probably wasn’t what a lady wanted to hear when she was decked out in motorcycle gear for the first time. 

Luka glanced at her and then at Gina, who had gotten distracted again. Then he leaned over slightly to look pointedly at Marinette’s new boots, hugging the curve of her calf. He met Marinette’s eyes.

“I’m working,” he told her, lowering his voice a little, “So I’m just going to say the gear suits you. But...change the hair and get some skinny jeans and I guarantee everybody else will use a different word.” He grinned at her and went back to his phone and Marinette giggled, blushing. 

“You can go ahead and tag me,” Marinette said, tipping her glasses up and peeking over—or rather around—his shoulder. “Grandma too.” She dictated Gina’s handle and then pulled out her own phone. “That should help get people from Grandma’s club to check it out. Will you take a selfie with me for mine?” 

Luka was more than willing to put his face next to hers and smile as she flashed her peace sign at the camera. 

“All right, let’s check you out—get you checked out,” Luka corrected quickly, shaking his head. “Unless there was anything else you needed?”  

“Um, I don’t think so,” Marinette said, sounding both thoughtful and maybe a little disappointed. Or maybe that was just him. 

“Okay, well follow me and I’ll get everything rung up,” Luka said, tipping his head toward the counter. “You want me to package it up or do you want to wear it out?”

“I can do that?” Marinette asked, eyes wide.

Luka shrugged and smiled. “It’s all yours once it’s paid for, so why not?” 

Marinette leaned her elbows on the counter, admiring her purchases. 

“So,” Luka said, glancing at her as he started going through the pile. “I gotta ask, what’s it like working for Jagged Stone?”

Marinette’s head shot up and a blush bloomed on her face. “How did you—oh, right, I gave you my—so you saw the—um, yeah.” She laughed awkwardly, reaching up to fidget with one pigtail. “It’s, um...it’s an experience?”

“High maintenance?” Luka grinned.

“So high maintenance,” Marinette groaned. “Oh, it’s embarrassing to admit it, but my first try bombed completely. It’s a long story but I basically got assigned to be his gopher for the day and he was bound and determined that he wanted those glasses and nothing I could find was good enough and so finally I was like forget it, he’s impossible I’m just going to make them myself and...and…” She spread her hands. 

“And now you’re friends with a rock star,” Luka laughed. “That’s awesome, Marinette.” He shook his head. “You must be incredibly patient as well as talented.”

“Oh...I…” She looked down at the counter, tracing a line of the grain with her finger. “I’m just...I like people. I like making people happy. I guess I’m a people pleaser.” 

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Luka commented as Gina came up to the counter. 

“Well, sometimes—“ Marinette cut off and bit her lip and looked at the total on Luka’s screen. “Grandma, are you sure—” 

“Hush, Marinetta,” was all Gina said, and Marinette just sighed with a fond smile. 

“Thank you, Grandma.” 

Luka gave Gina her receipt, and she immediately went back to whatever debate she’d been having with Michel. Luka looked at Marinette. “Well, you want to wear it?” 

Marinette nodded eagerly and Luka chuckled, pulling out his pocket knife. He cut the tags off of the jacket and Marinette slipped it back on and zipped it up. Then she pressed her lips together for a moment before reaching up to pull her pigtails out. She retied her hair in a low ponytail over one shoulder instead as Luka cut the tags off her glasses and peeled away the protective plastic. “Better?” she asked. She took the glasses Luka handed her and slid them on. 

“Well—” Luka glanced over at Gina and Michel, and leaned over, settling his elbows on the counter and speaking low. “I’m still working, but...ask any guy on the street and I think you’re going to get the answer you’re looking for.” He winked at her and Marinette grinned, looking pleased as she tilted the glasses up onto her head. 

“So I’m guessing you’re not racing,” Luka said, straightening up and sweeping the tags into the trash. He came around the counter and crouched next to her to cut the tags off of the boots she was still wearing. 

“No, definitely not,” Marinette laughed. “I’m just going to cheer Grandma on. And, you know, get out in the fresh air, have some fun. The races are open to the public,” Marinette added brightly as Luka straightened up and folded his knife. “It’s a big fundraiser and recruitment event for them actually, so it’s kind of a big party. I’m sure there will be plenty for me to do. Have you ever been there? To the track I mean?”

“The Bugatti Circuit? Yeah, a couple times for different things,” Luka replied, tucking the knife back in his pocket and leaning one elbow on the counter.  “It’s a cool place, I’ve stayed at the campground nearby a few times. Great place to see some really cool bikes and cars, if you’re into that kind of thing. Most people who come to stay there are there for the tracks so they all have crazy machines.”

“Oh, that’s good to know,” Marinette exclaimed. “I don’t know much about cars but I bet I could get some amazing inspiration there.” She pouted a little. “I kind of wish my friends were going,” she whispered, glancing back to where Gina and Michel were chatting. “Grandma will be in the races and I’ll be stuck on my own. It’d be nice to be there with someone, especially someone who knew their way around.” Her eyes widened slightly and she blushed as she added in a rush, “I’m good at making friends though, I’ll find someone to hang out with.”

“No doubt,” Luka said, glancing over at Gina with a slight frown. He was sure Marinette wouldn’t lack for company and the idea of her being on her own made his big brother bone itch. So he told himself, anyway. “Just be safe, okay? You never know who’s going to show up at an event like that. People get a little bit of alcohol in them and they start acting stupid.” 

“I’m a good judge of character,” Marinette smiled. “I know how to stay out of trouble. Besides, I may be adorable,” she rolled her eyes. “But I’m not helpless.” 

You’re a snack and guys are going to be lining up like there’s only one vending machine, Luka thought grimly, but he kept his pleasant expression. “Well, is there anything else I can do for you, Marinette? It looks like you’re all set.” He put one hand on the boot box that now carried her street shoes and slid it closer to her.

“Oh,” Marinette blinked, like she’d forgotten why she was there. “Oh, no, I think that’s everything. I, um...thanks, Luka.” She picked up the box slowly, and her blue eyes were soft when she looked up at him. “Really, thank you. I was super nervous about coming to a place like this last time and you really made it easy, and today too, and I just...I’m grateful.”

Luka could feel his cheeks reddening. “I didn’t do anything special,” he shrugged, “A customer’s a customer, right? That’s Michel’s policy.” She made an affirmative noise and looked down and Luka knew he couldn’t just leave it at that. “But...I’m really glad I met you, Marinette. You’re a cool person. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime, just...around or whatever.” 

His eyes skimmed over Marinette’s head as he resisted the urge to ruffle his hair, and found Gina watching him with slightly narrowed eyes. Luka didn’t react outwardly; he wasn’t doing anything wrong and he didn’t care if she knew he thought Marinette was cute. Really, he’d managed to get out of this encounter so far without embarrassing himself too badly or letting Michel down too much, so he was counting it a win. He forced himself to look back at Marinette though and smile.

“Maybe I will see you around sometime,” Marinette said, suddenly not quite meeting his eyes either, and Luka’s pulse spiked. “Like you said, you never know who might show up at an event, right? Who knows, maybe I’ll be going to more events now that I’m all geared up for it.” She grinned and put her glasses back on. They did nothing to hide her suddenly flaming blush. “Well...bye Luka. Thanks again!” 

She nearly tripped in her sudden hurry to get out of the shop. Laughing, Gina caught her arm and said something quietly to her before glancing back at Luka and sending one more smile and a “Ciao, dear!” at Michel.

“What did I tell you?” Michel said with satisfaction. “Good customer service is never wasted.”

“Yeah,” Luka said with a smiling sigh. “You told me.” Man, what he wouldn’t give to be in Le Mans next weekend. 

It’d be nice to be there with someone, especially someone who knew their way around.

No...no, he couldn’t. That was crazy. No way she’d meant it the way he suddenly wanted to hear it. 

Like you said, you never know who might show up at an event, right?

Luka shook his head and went back to work. No. No way. He wasn’t that lucky. He’d really look like a stalker if he showed up in Le Mans, two hours away, on a couple of vague hints that he was probably reading too much into.

The next time he had a quiet moment, Luka pulled up Marinette’s Instagram. There was the selfie of the two of them together. The caption read, Gearing up for the trip to Le Mans next weekend! Had a great experience at Michel’s Motor Gear. The owner Michel is awesome and Luka took great care of me! Super patient, very professional, and soooo nice! AND he plays awesome guitar! #great shop #great service #great guy 

Luka put his head down in his arms on the counter and whined. He was doomed. Worse, he wasn’t going to be able wipe the dumb grin off his face for hours.

He was still grinning stupidly at the picture when Michel walked by. 

“Boss,” Luka said absently, not looking up from his phone. “Can I have Saturday off?”

Michel saw the picture in his hand and frowned. “I don’t think I approve of dating customers.”

“Fair,” Luka agreed, the dopey grin not budging a millimeter. “I quit.”

Michel stood stunned for a moment and then sighed. “Of course. I forgot for a moment you’re Anarka’s boy.” He chewed his mustache for a moment. “Ah, you don’t have to quit. I was watching, I know you’ve acted like a pro. As long as you ask her out on your own time, got it?”

“Yeah. So, Saturday? I’m thinking about a day trip to Le Mans.”

Michel sighed. “Fine, take the weekend. Get it out of your system before Monday.”

Luka snorted softly. “No promises.”

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Epilogue) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)

Content Warnings: There’s uhhh... poetry smut.

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: Holy crap! Here we are! It’s the end of the story!! Now, for those of you who read the original story, there’s not a whole lot that’s changed. I edited everything to fit the rest of the story and writing style, since the original version was a little rough, but other than little bits, it’s what you remember. If you didn’t read this, then welcome to the end! 

My eternal gratitude to those who helped me finish this, those who helped find my errors (my two lovely ladies are listed above), to those who read this! Who reblogged it! Who left comments and sweet tags and sent messages and made this all worth it. I constantly say that I cannot express how thankful I am and it’s true. With only words, I can only say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. <3<3

This epilogue is meant to tie bows around a couple major things and send these off the best way I know how. I still have a stack of headcanons and info that wouldn’t fit in here. I would love to share these things if anyone is curious. If you are, or have questions, or want to talk about specific parts, please send me messages. I would love to chat about this world that has lived in my brain and morphed over the last FIVE YEARS. 

(Poetry included is not mine: All rights reserved to Pablo Neruda "My love, understand me" and "Night on the Island" and to Leonard Cohen "The Mists of Pornography")

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Epilogue: The Art of Poetry

-x- April 

The day that Killian forgets the coffee mugs on his counter is the day he locks himself out of his apartment for the first time. He and Emma huddle on the front stoop together in the early morning chill waiting for his landlord to come unlock the door. He opens his jacket and pulls her closer, jumping when her cold nose touches his collarbone and she chuckles as she repeats the action until her nose is warm and he’s even warmer. They thank Marco profusely when he arrives with the spare set of keys.

They’re also both late for work that day.

The next day, when Emma comes back from getting coffee, there’s an envelope propped in front of her computer at work. When she opens it, a weight settles in the envelope and she pulls out the folded note. Killian’s neat handwriting stretches across the paper.

“My love,

understand me,

I love all of you,

from eyes to feet, to toenails,

inside

all the brightness, which you kept.

It is I, my love,

who knocks at your door.”

So next time I lock myself out, you can unlock it for me.

She peers into the envelope to see the key resting in the bottom and thinks he may be onto something with poetry if it always sounds like that.

Emma makes sure to beat Killian to the door when they walk back to his place after work so she can try out her new key, and she only smiles wider when the lock slides open. She makes a big show of swinging open the door, gesturing him inside with a sweep of her arm. 

When she gets home that night, Snow and David have once again broken into her loft, but she doesn’t much care for two reasons. Firstly, she knew they were going to do this after they texted her twenty minutes ago and asked whether or not she was spending the night at Killian’s. Secondly, it takes her five whole seconds to read the message on Snow’s shirt that proudly states that she’s “Pregnant AF” (the shirt’s words, not hers) and there’s a whole bunch of happy crying and flailing that follows. 

-x- Late August

Emma arrives home a little late one night to Killian already making dinner. The routines they do still live with all include household chores and the way they divvy them up, and she’s perfectly fine with the structure he’s brought to her previously chaotic lifestyle. He glances over his shoulder when she walks in and smiles.

“Get stuck late again?”

“Not quite,” she says as she comes to stand behind him. “That smells amazing, by the way.”

“It’ll be done in just a bit.”

“Want me to set the table?”

“I’d like to know why you’re avoiding a simple inquiry into why you were so late in such an obvious manner.”

Emma sighs heavily. “I kind of walked all the way back to the loft before I realized I didn’t live there anymore.”

“Kind of? I don’t think that’s something you can kind of do, love,” he says, still managing to stir whatever it is he’s making even when she goes to swat his arm. 

“Okay, so I did. You said it yourself, though. Old habits, right?” She hops up on the counter to watch him cook. 

“Indeed, love. So, I’ve been meaning to ask you. How do you feel our adventures have measured up to the expectations?”

“Well, you didn’t turn into a frog.”

“Aye, I’m sure there’s still time for that. We’re only in the middle of this tale. We’ll just have to see where the pages take us from here.”

“You are such a fucking romance novelist,” she says, laughing brightly when Killian removes his sauce from the stove and turns it off before he moves in to attack. And even though she’s squirming to get away from his nimble fingers as they target her ticklish spots, she sends up a quick thank you to Killian’s faulty alarm clock and his old habit of routines. 

-x- September

“You could just leave those until later,” Killian says, coming up behind Emma as she washes their dishes from dinner. He has his hand and hook on her hips and his lips on her hair, his voice full of implication. 

He’s learned not to try to talk her out of cleaning up, and instead he just enjoys distracting her in the best ways possible. 

She’s wearing a skirt - something she only does when she’s out of leggings - and the soft gray jersey fabric clings to her hips before flaring and draping down. It hides much of her legs, but her backside looks fantastic in it. On top, she has a light yellow shirt that’s tickling at his memories, the lines of a poem he once memorized during his university years making their way back to mind. 

Steady movements continue as she washes and rinses each dish, stacking them in the drying rack before starting to scrub out the sink. He’s struggling to remember the lines, yellow sweater, and with a smirk he glides his hand down to palm the back of her thigh.

“These are anything but boyish haunches,” he says out loud. Emma gasps as the shift from peaceful innocence to dirty.

“What?”

He hums, nosing some of her hair aside so he can find her neck with his lips. “From a poem. Your shirt brought it back to me. ‘The Mists of Pornography’ was the title,” he responds, moving his hand to the front of her thigh and sliding it up to rest on a spot right below her hipbones.

“Why am I not surprised that you know something with ‘pornography’ in the title?”

“Ah, but Swan, it’s about much more than that. Close your eyes. Listen,” he says, and uses his hook to brush the hair off her neck and lean closer to her ear. He sways just a little bit closer as he starts to speak. 

When you rose out of the mist / of pornography - He runs a single finger along her spine until it rests between her shoulders - with your talk of marriage / and orgies / I was a mere boy / of fifty-seven / trying to make a fast buck / in the slow lane / It was ten years too late / but I finally got / the most beautiful girl / on the religious left / to go with her lips / to the sunless place - and here he makes sure to push his hips against her to emphasize as she snorts. He continues reciting, crowding her against the counter, making sure the edge is pressing right where he wants it to.

This was my life / in Los Angeles / when you slowly / removed your yellow sweater - As he speaks, he slowly draws her shirt over her head and she lifts her arms - and I slobbered over / your boyish haunches - He runs his hand over the path that started this all and pushes the skirt off her hips to rub over the back of a now-bare thigh - and I tried to be / a husband / to your dark and motherly / intentions.

I thank you / for the ponderous songs / I brought to completion / instead of fucking you / more often - He punctuates by rolling his hips against her and she gasps as she clutches the sink for stability, and he keeps going.

Your panic cannot hurry me here / and my panic and falling / shoulders / our shameless lives / are the grains / scattered for an offering / before the staggering heights / of our love - His hand glides over her stomach and up to cup a breast through her bra. He’s sure she can feel where his cock is pressing against her ass, hard and wanting. Her hips are pinned against the sink and with each line, he thrusts against her, slowly lighting the fuse of what promises to be a spectacular orgasm if he doesn’t stop.

And the other side of your anxiety / is a hammock of sweat / and moaning - It’s getting harder to pay attention to the poem, especially when he pulls down the straps and cups of her bra, palm meeting her already hardened nipples as he alternates between them. Her body shudders with pleasure and he struggles to continue - and time comes down / like the smallest pet of God / to lick our fingers - he licks her shoulder instead - as we sleep / in the tangle / of straps and bracelets. 

With a great deal of effort, he keeps going, trying to make the lines appear in his head so he can read them off with ease and still give her the attention she deserves - and Oh the sweetness of first nights / and twenty-third nights / and nights / after death and bitterness - She reaches one arm back to wrap around his neck and firmly grasps his hair - and the impeccable order / of the objects on the table - He’s rocking her into the counter at just the right speed and he can tell how close she is with each new word - the weightless irrelevance / of all our old intentions / as we undo / as we undo / every difference.

With the last word of the poem out of his mouth, she tugs hard at his hair and she climaxes, coming undone and leaning back against his chest and tries to catch her breath. 

“Oh god, Killian,” she moans. He’s still rocking them against the counter as she rides out her orgasm. “By far, this is the most interesting way you’ve ever made me orgasm.

“Have I made you a fan of poetry yet, Swan?” He moves his hand back down to her hips, his fingers sliding just under the waist of her panties. She feels loose and light as she turns in his arms and pulls him against her.

“A couple more poems like that and I can definitely be convinced,” she says. “But for now I think I’m more interested in spending time with this one. What was that about lips and sunless places?”

His mind reels because she drops to her knees between him and the cabinets. He grips the counter for stability when she drags her teeth over the zipper of his slacks.

“Think you can recite another one?” She unfastens his trousers, sliding the material down and taking his boxer briefs with it. She wraps one hand around the base of his cock, lightly gripping his hip with the other.

“Hmm?” He’s concentrating really hard on not rocking his hips forward into her skilled hands, incredibly aware of the counter just behind her head. The absolute last thing he wants to do is accidentally give his girlfriend a concussion.

“Another poem, Killian. You have another one up in that head of yours?” She leans in and licks the tip of his erection, grinning up at him.

His mind scrambles for any other poems he memorized.

“You’re making it incredibly difficult to concentrate, love, but I did always love a challenge” he admits, another moan pulling from him as she wraps her lips around the head and sucks lightly. She pulls back again and looks up at him, her smile shining in her eyes.

“You once promised to read me dirty poetry. You’ve given me one. Surely you have another up there,” she says before leaning forward to kiss a spot below his hip bone. 

“There once was a man from Nantucket,” he starts, but she cuts him off with her laughter.

“No, no. Make it a good one.”

The poem that finally makes its way to his mind is not dirty, but he knows she’ll appreciate it. He clears his throat, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on the words in his head instead of the love at his feet.

All night I have slept with you / next to the sea, on the island. He begins, and she runs her hands along his thighs. Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep, / between fire and water. She grips his cock again and begins stroking it gently, placing kisses along his hip again as he continues.

Perhaps very late / our dreams joined / at the top or at the bottom, / up above like—

“Fuck, Emma,” he moans, her mouth going from the innocence of kisses to wrapping her lips around him once more and swirling her tongue around the tip.

“Keep going,” she pants out when she breaks away, dipping her head right back in when he starts reciting once more.

Perhaps your dream / drifted from mine / and through the dark sea / was seeking me / as before, / when you did not yet exist, / when without sighting you / I sailed by your side, / and your eyes sought / what now—/ bread, wine, love, and anger—/ I heap upon you / because you are the cup / that was waiting for the gifts of my life.

The hand that isn’t gripping the base of his cock trails up his thigh once more, pausing on his hip for a moment before brushing under the shirt that he’s still wearing and she runs her nails down his chest.

I have slept with you / all night long while / the dark earth spins / with the living and the dead, / and on waking suddenly / in the midst of the shadow / my arm encircled your waist. / Neither night nor sleep / could separate us.

She begins bobbing her head while her hand strokes the rest of his length, and it’s a struggle to remember the last stanza for a moment. He drops his head, opens his eyes again to watch her move and it’s too much. His movements against her during the first poem had already aroused him, and her attentions on him now are pushing him closer to the edge.

Emma moans around his length and his knuckles go white where he’s still gripping the counter. He can feel his release coming and she feels it too, speeds up and doesn’t prolong the torture. When it hits him, he has to brace his feet a little more so he doesn’t collapse. He’s breathing hard when she gracefully stands back up into the cage of his arms. She’s grinning, the cat that got the cream, as she winds her arms around his neck.

“Is that the end?” she asks, fingers threading through his hair. He shakes his head and swallows, wraps his arms around her and pulls her close.

I have slept with you / and on waking, your mouth, / come from your dream, / gave me the taste of earth, / of sea water, of seaweed, / of the depths of your life, / and I received your kiss / moistened by dawn / as if it came to me / from the sea that surrounds us.

He kisses her after saying the last verse, tasting his release still lingering on her tongue, and she hums into the kiss.

“Not bad,” she says when she breaks the kiss. “You may have just swayed my opinion. I’m now pro-poetry.” She’s smiling when she meets his eyes, and he chuckles. He places one more kiss on her forehead before bending to hastily pull his underwear back up, stepping out of his discarded trousers and leaving them on the floor.

“I’ll try a lofty and pretentious one next time,” he promises, remembering their previous discussions about poetry now that she’s brought them up.

“Only if you’re fucking me into the mattress when you do it,��� she says off-handedly. He huffs out a laugh and rests his forehead against hers.

“You’ll be the death of me, love.” He hugs her tight to him as he says it and he can feel the laugh vibrate through her.

“But you love me anyways,” she responds, dancing her fingers across his shoulders.

“Aye, until the end of time.” He kisses her again, and she whispers her love for him across his lips.

And when they wind up in bed a short time later, he recites whatever he can think of—limericks, haiku, even a poem by Shel Silverstein—as he fulfills her request. 

When the Save-the-Dates go out a few months later, there is, indeed, an asterisk at the bottom that says “David was right.”