#chapter seven just got posted and im working on chapter eight right now

[sadlittlenerdking]

let forever mean forever

The Magicians

Queliot

Summary:

“Put it on, put it on, put it on.” He punctuates each sentence with another kiss, as he stretches his hand out over Quentin’s breast bone.

He grabs Eliot’s hand, only mildly embarrassed by the way his own hands tremble, and carefully settles the metal over his skin, and then down his finger. He pulls away and looks at Eliot meaningfully.

Eliot grins. “It’s just six months.” He lifts his hand and holds it up so they can both look at the silver glinting beneath the light shining in from the living room. “This is forever.”

--

Or, Quentin and Eliot are idiots, and it's Christmas.

*Loosely based off the movie Merry Matrimony

Read it on ao3. 

[mariuscomehome]

//minor spoilers for marius character story chapter 2!!! and luke's chapter 2 as well oops

i was going to reblog this onto the moron post i made in the early hours of this morning but it quickly grew way beyond my original intentions, so im annexing it. i promise there's a funny conclusion just give it a little time !! why are there so many words ;-;

that post came about because i was thinking about nxx group dynamics, particularly marius (BIG SURPRISE LOL) and how from what we know of him he doesnt seem to have many close friends. if any. his schedule is incredibly packed from school, running pax, nxx investigations, and his own art, and we know he isn't getting enough sleep, (yknow what zak made a great post analyzing the boys schedules here ya go) to the point that he considers giving up art to make time for his other responsibilities. there's no way he has a social life - i'm sure he did, but it would have been the first thing to go, to make room for everything else in his life. every mention of him attending a social event, iirc, has been directly related to some kind of business venture or obligation, unless he's hanging out with mc, who seems to be the only person he's able (or willing) to make that kind of time for.

which is something he has in common with luke, it seems. lol.

IM PUTTING IN A READMORE THIS POST IS TOO DANG LONG LOL

back to marius. i need to do some more research on the timeline, but my understanding is that he was studying overseas and got called back when giann went missing, one or two years ago? to run pax. (which is the official story, more likely to me is that it was completely voluntary as he wanted to look into his brother's disappearance - was he involved with the nxx before then? had he already met artem and vyn, or no? if anyone knows the answers to these questions please please tell me). so in all likelihood he's left his entire social circle in florence, come back to hang out in an office all day, and then go sit in a meeting with vyn, his tutor, and artem, who is eight years older than him. i'm sure normally they get along just fine, but when does marius get to be a kid? when does he mess around with people his own age? he doesnt.

enter mc, who is much closer to him in age, and who he doesn't hesitate to joke around with. she must be a huge relief to him. and he met her right before being accused of murder. can he not rest??

pivot. we're talking about luke now. it goes without saying that luke is, has been, and will be going through some pretty heavy shit, and mc is simultaneously a huge reprieve from that and a bludgeon that he uses to destroy himself emotionally at every single opportunity. the whiplash is insane he's like "haha this is great i'm in love with you and you are my best friend and i am going to die forever changing the trajectory of your life, hurting you and that's unforgivable and i should stay away from you but i can't because i'm a terrible selfish person- haha what's that? no i'm fine! how are you?" i hate him.

yeah so then it's like when does luke get a break? huh? we know he has aaron, who is really good for him and helping him work through his stuff, but his stuff is irreparably tied to his complex feelings about mc and his own mortality etc, etc, and also aaron is literally his doctor. every single one of their conversations is like "luke, try harder" "no. im gonna die soon." "you will with that attitude i will FIX YOU MYSELF, STOP BEING LIKE THIS." "..... still got that expiry date tho" like even the person who is arguably the best for luke's mental state, actually understands what is going on with him and is actively trying to help him at every opportunity to the point of literally robbing him and sending him on a.. scavenger hunt.... aaron what are you doing

luke literally cannot escape his issues. marius cannot escape his work. i think they should, (after spending enough time around each other to kind of figure each other out, become immune to the other's specific brand of annoying, stop being jealous at how effortlessly close the other is to mc- look it might take a little time) be friends, and find that kind of respite in each other, where their other obligations just aren't even relevant and they can just kind of let the facade fall away and do whatever. they're closer in age and they both need more time to be young and impulsive and have other people who they can do that with.

i think they should be stupid young men who do stupid things. they roughhouse. they both like... extreme sports? i think? they drink together. marius, who knows the perfect amount of wine to drink to get just tipsy enough at a work function. luke, who knows where to buy the best, cheapest beer. swapping beverages and immediately getting piss drunk and calling mc together to tell her that shes missing out, she should have come with them, boo, and its four in the morning and she only picks up because she woke up early to add six pages to a report thats due on artems desk at seven, and she still pretends to get annoyed at them but shes really just happy to see them getting along.

vyn, luke, and marius being left alone in the nxx meeting room for some reason. by the end of it, the table is broken clean in two. luke and marius both blame vyn, who asserts that he never touched that table, but doesn't directly disagree with them and offers to buy a new one. (HE'S SO OMINOUS....)

the new table has wheels so when marius and mc get to a meeting early, he tries to lean on it while he's flirting and ends up on his ass. he sprawls out on the floor and tries to keep going as though this was totally intentional (because mc is laughing and its worth it), but of course luke walks in and he gets soooo embarrassed.

let them be morons!!!

[asunshinepuff]

That’s Our Coach!

🏒So some of us on the SW discord were talking about Remus now that the final chapter of SW had come out. And we came up with the headcanon idea that Remus had figured out a way to continue his summer coaching despite now being spoiler alert if you haven’t read it (but why would you be here if you hadn’t? GO READ THE FINAL CHAPTER!!) the newest player of the Gryffindor Lions. Naturally, I got inspired and thus had to write this fic. Honestly this is the longest work I’ve done in a while and I am so excited to finally be posting it.

Course, credit is due. This wasn’t just my idea. Thank you so much to @whataboutmyfries, @im-oknutzy-trash, @bkfstclubmember and @fadedgreenmittens for coming up with the details for this idea! I couldn’t have done this without you four!

Just a heads up, despite being an ice skater and knowing hockey terms, I have never ever written hockey before. So I apologise profusely if something doesn’t seem correct. As always, full credit goes to @lumosinlove for her amazing characters!

Anyways, I hope you enjoy! 🏒

.

One Month Ago

Remus stopped at the boards smoothly, letting some of the ice spray as he hopped onto the boards of the bench. “Great practice everyone.” He exclaims with a smile, “Boys can you come over here for a moment?”

Fifteen boys, ranging from ages eight to ten skated quickly over to their coach, sliding into a halting stop - some less graceful than others which causes Remus to chuckle lightly under his breath before addressing the boys.

“Now boys, this is the end of our summer session. The next season is going to be a little different.” He explains calmly, trying to get a handle of his nerves yet excitement for what the Cubs’ reactions will be.

Naturally, this caused a chorus of assumptions all ranging from horribly bad to hilarious. 

“Are you leaving?” One boy, the loudest despite being the youngest exclaimed tearfully, and this caused a collective gasp before a chorus of the same comments. “Don’t leave Coach Remus!” “Yeah! You’re the best!” “Stay with us!” 

“Calm down, calm down. Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.” Remus repeats a few times before the attention is back on his words, “I’m going to be playing for the Lions.” He finally announces with a smile, “And I’m inviting you guys to the first game at Hogwarts Stadium.”

He watches as his words resonate in each of the kid’s minds as they all collectively gasp, once again, with wide eyes and erupt into cheers. Most likely the smartest decision for him to currently have been seated upon the boards of the bench or else he might’ve been tackled to the ice by the Cubs.

Smiling, he watches as the boys skate off the ice and rush over to their parents, yelling “COACH REMUS IS ON THE LIONS!!!”

.

Present-Day

The locker room was buzzing with excitement and it seemed to emanate through every player. Leo and Logan were somewhat geared up already, making some sort of competition out of a play fight by tasing the other’s side with their fingers.

It was interrupted by Finn who came sprinting from his stall and jumped onto Leo, and Logan broke down laughing at the sight. Kasey was on the floor of his stall, in the midst of stretching out his legs in the splits while he was in a three-way conversation with James and Talker.

James sat leaning forward as he was lasing up his skates, and Talker was drumming on the walls of James’ stall as he sat somewhat in the middle of the room. Meanwhile, Olli, Kuny and Nado were also set in a pretty energetic conversation in full gear. Dumo sat watching the boys with Sergei by his side, and finally, Remus and Sirius were the last ones to enter the room to get geared up.

Remus stopped for a moment, staring at the stall that was now his. Lupin #6 was written on the back of the brand new Lions jersey. It felt so surreal, yet, strange. Normally he’d be here early in the morning, setting up all the stalls exactly the way each team member preferred in order to not mess with superstitions. 

But now, here he was. Coming at the same time as the others, with Sirius by his side. He made it. And yes, he loved his job as a PT, and in some ways will miss it - he cannot deny the excitement that fueled the spring in his step. The urge and want to prove himself was here once again. 

He sent Sirius a smile before they part to their stalls. On reflex, he sat at his stall and fell easily back into his old routine for stretches, calf stretches before thigh, and then when he felt ready he began gearing up.

“Mon Loup, are you nervous?” A familiar voice says by his side, as Remus was beginning to lace up his skates. He looks up to see Sirius in just his under armor, as always before games, leaning against his stall and he cannot help but smile in return despite his nerves. 

“A bit more now that we’re actually here. But I’m excited.” He admits. Spotting the paper in his fiance’s hands, his eyes widen ever so slightly. This was really happening, he’s here. He’s on the Lions about to play his first game with his love and family by his side.

It still felt so new yet so right to call Sirius his fiancé, everytime the reminder comes to his mind he has to smile. He was just so happy. “Is that the starting line-up for the game?” 

Sirius nods, giving him a fond smile in return. Most likely assuming what was on his mind before he asked the question. However, there was some mischief, and pride within his eyes, he most likely read the lineup already. “Wanna join me for the read off?” 

“Absolutely.”

The couple makes their way to the center of the locker, in the midst of the chaos, and Sirius lets out a loud whistle before yelling, “Alright! First game of the season! Let’s kick the Habs’ asses tonight yeah?” That caught the attention of the team, as a series of answering shouts of approval, all of which amplified when the team caught sight of Remus in his jersey. 

“Let’s go Loops! Rookie up!” Finn yells, laughing as he rushes forward and gives Remus a high five. 

“Coach gave the line-up for tonight’s game.” Sirius continued over the noise. He looks to Remus with a smile before he turns to the team and starts off the line-up, “Starting tonight, in the cage, we got Kasey Winter!”

Remus leans over at the paper with a grin on his face as he takes Sirius’ hand as he decides to steal the next call, “On the left, we got James Potty-Mouth Potter himself.”

“On the right, we got the fastest on our side - Remus Lupin!”

“Loops on the ice!” Logan calls out, forming a chant followed by James, Talker, Finn, and Leo. Remus couldn’t help but laugh at the antics, this was really happening. In an effort to drown out the series of chants, he takes the next announcement. 

“We got Talker and Olli on defense!”

James, in his excitement, quickly stole the paper from Sirius’ grasp, yelling above his protests, “And of course on center, we’re making the power front line here. We got the man, the myth, the legend - Sirius Black!”

A chorus of cheers rang out for those announced in the lineup, progressively dying down as Coach Arthur came into the locker room, and then it was really business time. The last of the gear and jerseys were finally dawned, laces were laced up, and the team was getting into the right headspace for a game.

Remus stood at the end of the tunnel with Sirius by his side. “Gryffindor!” boomed Frank’s voice, which echoed down the tunnel in addition to the crowd’s loud cheers in response, full of excitement for the Lion’s entrance. “Are you ready?”

Ten... Nine... 

“Re? You okay?” Sirius asks, placing a gentle hand upon his own, that was tightly gripping the pole of his hockey stick. He gasps lightly as he lets his grip slacken, not realizing that his nerves had increased since entering the tunnel.

Eight... Seven... 

“I’m... okay. Just nervous.” Remus replies honestly, trying to give a reassuring smile at the concerned look upon Sirius’ face. Taking Remus’ opposing hand in his own, he runs his thumb comfortingly across the top and squeezes it lightly. “Breathe Remus, you’ll be okay. You’re not alone out there.” He says, as they walk hand in hand down the tunnel. 

Six... Five.....

“Right... Breathe. Just Breathe.” He repeats over and over momentarily, getting himself out of his head. “It’s just the first game.” He sees Sirius nod, out of the corner of his eye.

“You’ll be okay. And you’ll play so well.”

Four... Three... 

The camera crew within the tunnels, displaying the entrance on the jumbo screen within the stadium begin rolling the cameras as the team gets closer. Distracted, Remus gasps as he’s suddenly pulled back from following the team and pulled flush against a familiar chest. 

“What is it?” He asks, looking up at Sirius with a slight tilt of his head in confusion. 

It was strange, Sirius’ eyes were shining bright as he looked back at Remus. Probably trying to gauge how nervous he actually was at the moment he assumes. “Hey, Re?”

“Yeah?”

Sirius glances briefly to the cameras that were now focused on them since they were the last two remaining, before he tilts Remus’ helmet upwards slightly, and kisses him softly. As if they have all the time in the world.

Two... One...

As they pull away, he briefly lets go of Remus’ hand, only to gently place it on his cheek. “I love you. So much.” Sirius comments with a smile.

Remus can’t help but smile in return, leaning into the touch, feeling his nerves wash away as he looks into the eyes of the man he loves. “I love you too.” 

Zero...

“Your Gryffindor Lions!” Frank drew out the words and the lights within the stadium went crazy as the team appeared down the tunnel. The order was the same as usual, Kasey came first, goalie mask propped on top of his head as he skated out onto the ice.

Then Timmy, Finn, Leo, Olli, Logan, Evgeni, Nado, Sergei, Dumo. The only difference was that James came out right before Remus, who was now second to last, and it was his turn.

It was exhilarating, hearing the cheers as Frank called his name and he skated onto the ice, right foot first. It was smooth beneath his blades, bringing him to a sense of calm focus.

There was a sea of red and gold throughout the stadium, in addition to rainbow flags, his nickname was being shouted by multiple fans and as he skated to a section, there was a chorus of a different nickname being yelled which made him laugh. “COACH REMUS!”

Stopping at the glass he waves and pounds on the glass in return to some of the boys close up to the boards. “Hi boys! Enjoy the game!” He yells up, not fully expecting to be heard but nonetheless felt the need to.

When he turns to skate off and find Jules in the stands, Finn skates by, looking at him with wide eyes. “Loops, you have a lot of children?” 

“What?” He responds in confusion, turning back behind him to the team before looking back to Finn. “Oh… No. Finn, that's my cub’s team from summer.” He says, laughing.

“Gotcha. Hey, let them back after the game!” Finn says with a smile before continuing the loop around the rink, while Remus takes off once again, reaching close to the middle of the rink before he goes back to the glass, stopping in front of where his family has a front view.

Smiling, he watches as Julian rushes from his seat to the glass with the biggest smile on his face. Julian had his Lions beanie on as usual but for once, he wasn’t dressed in a Black jersey.

Instead, he wore the Lupin jersey that he had just gotten a few days prior, turning around briefly to show his older brother. The brothers place a hand on the glass on both sides, smiling at the other as they mouth to one another.

I love you Re!! Good Luck!!

Love you too Jules!

With a quick wave up to his parents in the stands, Remus took off once again, passing by his fiancé who was already at center ice with the ref who held the puck and the Habs’ center. Stopping at the boards, he was met by James who smiled at him.

Rolling his eyes, he quickly grabbed the gatorade blue he had put on the bench prior next to two bottles of water, not wanting to mess with his friend’s superstition despite him not needing to be in charge of it anymore. He flips the bottle towards him, earning a grin in response, “Blue.”

“Always blue.” He replies with a wink before he skates off to his position on the right. Sharing a look with Sirius, he smiles before looking to the Habs’ right winger in front of him. James joined them shortly after, and the six crouched, eyes on the puck. The ref dropped the puck shortly after, and the game began.

The first period went by in a flash. With the Lions being up 1-0. James narrowly managed to score a breakaway up the ice off of a clean pass from Remus and managed to break through the Habs’ goalie. However, the Habs’ defense was strong. The Lions needed to be at the top of their game.

In the midst of the second period, the Habs managed to tie the game 1-1. So, Remus decides to push a little harder. Puck in hand, he races through the defensive line of the Habs and manages to score. With a hat trick.

His hands up in a cheer and laughing to himself, he was suddenly slammed into the boards by Sirius and James, and there was a loud chorus of young shouts yelling “THAT’S OUR COACH!” that made the three players laugh.

In the stands, there was no one more excited than Julian, who was practically jumping up and down as if he was on a sugar high. The nine-year-old wasn’t even playing himself yet he felt adrenaline for his older brother. He was just so happy!

“Yeah Loops! You’re on fire today!” James says on his right, smacking his shoulder playfully as he pulls away, heading off to the Lions goal to give Kasey a high five, then heading off to Olli and Talker.

Sirius stayed behind, having the biggest grin as he watched Remus laugh with glee, kissing his cheek briefly before he speaks. “You got a hat trick!” 

“I did!” 

Remus is freed from the board, however, his laughter and excitement has not diminished in the slightest. Joining James and Sirius back at center, the second period continues. 

.

🏒Hey you guys! 

Thank you so much for coming this far. I don’t usually like to put author's notes at the end of my works but this is an exception. And I have to admit, this one-shot took me a lot longer than I initially thought but I adore it so much.

Now, I have a question for you all.

I’m thinking of writing a second part to this (and possibly more than just another in the future), and making Lions Player/Coach Remus a regular au on my blog. What do you guys think? Let me know in the comments, a reblog with your answer or shoot me an ask with what you think!🏒

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (extra) || atz

A hand reaches into the frame to press the recording button.

The camera shifts around as the hand moves to adjust it on its tripod, fixing the device in place. When the image finally clears, stills and focuses, the hand moves back to reveal a man with blonde hair done in a mullet.

“Is it done yet?” A voice pipes up in the background.

The man adjusting the camera steps back to reveal a well lit room with wooden floorboards, the words KQ Entertainment behind him in big, white letters. Seven men hover at the back, all trying to push their way into the centre to see the camera.

“It’s on!” The man with the mullet cheers a little at his success. All eight of them rush to form a line, before he announces the beginning of the VLIVE. “하나, 둘, 셋 (hana, dool, seht)!”

“Eight Makes One Team!” They chorus together and bow, wide grins on their faces. “안녕하세요 (annyeonghaseyo)! It’s ATEEZ!”

They burst into a round of scattered applause.

“Hello everyone! It’s Hongjoong here!” The man with the mullet waves at the camera, smiling broadly. “So, due to popular opinion on Tumblr-”

“We’ve decided to check out @chasingatinydream’s fanfiction of us, Pirate King!” The young man with purple hair bursts into the frame, grinning wildly. “We’ve made a reaction video to some of the earlier chapters, which will be uploaded soon! We hope you watch it!”

[atinypiratequeen commented: There is nothing I want more in this life]

“But this video will be about us recreating the legendary post, which made more than half of the readers following Pirate King to curse the author online, Chapter 22, Gunshot! We haven’t read it yet, but we’ll be having one of us narrate as the story goes through!” Hongjoong continues, and everyone cheers, clapping again. “So now, we’ll be introducing the cast!”

“Hi! It’s Mingi here, main rapper and lead dancer of ATEEZ! I’m going to be the narrator for today!” The tall man waves, holding a script book in hand. His hair is wet, as if he’s just come out of the shower.

[imasexybuffalo commented: omg mingi looks so good]

“Hi, I’m Yeosang, playing myself.” The visual king himself waves, gracing all those who watching with with his presence.

[VLIVE Heart Count has increased by 2k]

[gothyeosanggf commented: im ded some1 save me]

[sassy-kpop-glitter commented: His birthmark is so pretty I wish they wouldn’t cover it! Also this chapter was so sad, this video is probably going to make me cry all over again.]

“Wooyoung here! I’m in charge of the sexy performance of this group and I’m playing Chin Hae, the main character!” Wooyoung waves with a big smile, other hand running through his hair. Hundreds of fangirls’ hearts swell all over the globe at the group’s most epic bias wrecker. “Also the one no one knows shit about!”

[@chasingatinydream commented: I was not expecting this portrayal of my MC but sure go for it Wooyoung]

“I’m Hongjoong, acting as Captain of the Treasure!” Mullet man beams at the camera, inclining his head a little in greeting. Then he glances back at the group. “Wasn’t I supposed to be blind in one eye? Where’s my eyepatch? And my red jacket?”

[@princejoongie1997 commented: I love you Hongjoongie <3]

“Here! Your jacket’s still in the wash because you performed with it yesterday, so the staff said to use this instead.” The man with green hair tosses a small black shape and a red blanket to his leader, before stepping into the camera with a cute smile. “Hello everyone, I missed you all! I’m ATEEZ’s San, director and also in charge of special effects and props!”

[@baeksofty commented: someone save me help help helpppp]

[@chasingatinydream commented: San is directing this wth is going to happen to my story]

“Hi.” Seonghwa smiles sweetly from a chair at the side. He raises the selfie stick he’s holding, waving it a little so everyone can see. “I’m Seonghwa, the oldest, and I’ll be the cameraman for this video!”

[@catmosphericlight commented: is it possible to love one man so much? I feel like its impossible]

[@berrylip commented: my finger hurts from smashing that heart button but i’ll do it for you seonghwa]

“Hi, everyone. It’s ATEEZ’s maknae, Jongho.” The youngest member waves his hand, smiling a little as he watches what’s happening right next to Seonghwa. “I’m going to be the extra who fills in any role needed.”

Hongjoong claps his hands once and everyone falls silent for dramatic effect. Jongho reaches behind the couch to pull someone out from hiding, pushing him right in front of the camera. The tall, lanky man shows itself to be Yunho, trying to crawl back behind the couch.

“And finally, our villain! We present to you, Yunho, AKA Leon Bastiville!”

[@someonerandom commented: LEON BASTARDVILLE!!!]

“You’re already getting hate, Yunho.” San comments as he peers at the comments flooding in from the readers. “Who is this Leon guy anyway?”

“I didn’t want to be a villain! Why did my luck run out on me when I needed it the most?” Yunho wails, attempting to hide from sight. Jongho simply grabs him by the ankle and hauls him back to the front, Yunho’s fingers scrabbling along the floor, before he finally locks his arms around Wooyoung’s leg.

[@mireu01 commented: Yunho as a villain i can’t im wheezing-]

“Sorry, we drew lots for this role.” Seonghwa explains over the noise of Yunho trying to escape from Jongho’s iron grip and Wooyoung attempting to pry Yunho’s hands from his calf as he takes the camera from the tripod, attaching it to the stick. It isn’t working. “Yunho picked the lot for the villain.”

“Alright, I’ll begin reading!” Mingi announces, lifting the script to his face. He starts to read, in the most dramatic tone he can. “Chapter Twenty Two, Gunshot, Original Version. Warnings, whipping, some gore- What? I feel like I shouldn’t be reading this on a VLIVE-”

“It’s a zero budget production, we’ll be fine!” San shouts as he gestures from the sidelines for Mingi to continue. The rapper pauses a little hesitantly, before starting to read once more.

“You freeze. Every muscle in your body goes taut, a cold shiver runs down your spine. The arm around your waist is firm, strong and from the almost unbreakable grip he has on you, he doesn’t intend on letting you go any soon.”

“Wooyoung-ah, Yunho-ah.” San studies the script in his hand intently, before pointing at the taller man, who is still prone on the ground with an arm wrapped around Wooyoung’s leg. “You need to get into position, you know.”

There’s a pause, and the two turn to stare at each other in horror. “What?”

“You heard me.” San waves the script impatiently, pulling a Nerf gun from a small box of props the staff must have given him for this video and tossing it at Yunho, who barely manages to catch the bright yellow toy. “Yunho, stand behind Wooyoung and pretend to choke him.”

Neither of them move, still staring at each other.

[@alyj12 commented: Oh my god just do it please!!!]

“The fans demand it.” Seonghwa’s amused voice can be heard as the camera pans in on Hongjoong’s grin at the sidelines, next to San and Jongho. The maknae is snickering uncontrollably, hand over his mouth.

“You need to do it!” Hongjoong calls. He’s donned the black eye patch already and has the red blanket pulled around his shoulders, the thick fabric so long that it almost completely engulfs him with his head popping out of the very top.

[VLIVE Heart Count has reached 10k]

[@itslizzeh commented: hongjoons such a cute smol bean save me]

[@chasingatinydream commented: why does hongjoong in that blanket remind me of a pimple]

Grudgingly and with no grace at all, Yunho moves behind Wooyoung, grabbing him by the neck and holding the toy gun to his head. The purple haired man makes several gagging sounds and Yunho’s face is one of utter disgust.

“Very good!” San praises as he glances down at the script again. “Now, Yunho, put your mouth at Wooyoungie’s ear.”

“What?” The two of them shout again, Wooyoung struggling to get out of Yunho’s arms while he still can. Yunho’s face is one of nausea as he scrunches up his nose.

“That’s gross, Wooyoung hasn’t showered since dance practice half an hour ago!”

[@atinypiratequeen commented: the two of them literally got the worst roles lmao]

“Do it, do it, do it!” Jongho and Yeosang are chanting in the corner, the maknae not even bothering to hide his laughter now. Yunho slowly puts his face near Wooyoung’s ear and Wooyoung gags.

“I can feel your breath at my ear! It’s weird!”

“It’s weird for me too, damnit!”

“Stop cursing! Now, Yunho, whisper in Wooyoung’s ear ‘I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.’ ”

“I hate this Leon guy, whoever he is!” Yunho yelps as the camera shakes from Seonghwa’s laughter. “Why is he so weird, going around whispering in people’s ears?”

“I don’t know! Someone save me! This main character’s life sucks!” Wooyoung flails around in Yunho’s grip. The tall dancer makes several loud retching noises, but has probably guessed that he won’t be getting out of this anytime soon. He simply closes his eyes for a moment, channeling his inner actor from that video shoot with Dingo, and leans next to Wooyoung’s ear, whispering softly.

“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

Wooyoung screeches like a dying cat. “No!”

[@mireu01 commented: someone get this boy an acting role]

“Very good!” San praises, clapping as he turns to Mingi. The rapper continues reading.

“Your heart sinks in your chest as the rest of your crew come into sight. Most of them are tied up in groups with rope, their heads hanging low as Navy soldiers kick and push them out of the cargo hold, where they had been hidden from sight. So that was why the ship had been so strangely silent when you and Wooyoung had returned to the Treasure. They had been captured- Holy shit, that was what happened to us in chapter twenty one?”

“I don’t know, I was saving myself, I mean the main character, from getting shot from a musket bullet!” Wooyoung wails, thrashing around. “Get me out of here! I regret ever drawing this lot! Who wants to be the main character when she has such a terrible life?”

[VLIVE Heart Count has reached 17k]

“The fans love it!” Seonghwa remarks excitedly, the recording steadying for a moment as he shifts the camera to San, who bows dramatically. Wooyoung shrieks at everyone watching his torment live.

“Yunho, tell Wooyoung ‘Hello, hello, hello, my two dear pirates. Now, we’re finally all here together. I’ve been waiting for this the whole night.’ ”

“That stalker was waiting in wait for us? That’s so creepy.” Jongho comments with a shudder. Yeosang shrugs. He can’t fathom the mind of a lunatic either.

“There’s poison in his voice, sweet as honey and as dangerous as snake venom. You don’t dare to struggle against him for fear of being shot point blank in the head, but his hold on you is making you panic and he’s crushing your windpipe, making every breath an arduous effort.” Mingi reads aloud, and Yunho, getting a little too into character, squeezes Wooyoung’s neck tighter. The shorter dancer yelps, flailing around.

“You’re choking me!”

“Very good, Yunho!” San applauds, completely ignoring Wooyoung’s plight. Yunho grins, nodding at the camera.

“Hey, I’m pretty good at acting!”

[@alyj12 commented: someone save wooyoung he looks like he’s going to die]

“Wooyoung’s fine!” Seonghwa beams, zooming in on Wooyoung’s struggling to free himself.

“You’re killing me!”

“Wow, Wooyoung’s really getting into character. Good job, Wooyoung!” Hongjoong raises a thumbs up with a proud smile on his face.

“I’m not in character-”

“ ‘While the two of you were off causing your little commotion back there at the official’s building,’ the officer drawls, playfully resting his chin on your shoulder as he addresses the crew, ‘one of my men ran back to the harbor to report it to me. My colleague that saw to you yesterday, Yoongi, was already suspicious of you. He smelled gunpowder on your ship, but your little de facto captain told us that you hadn’t been fired on.’ ”

“Are you serious? He smelled us out?” Jongho looks unimpressed by this, scowling. “Who the heck goes around just smelling ships?”

“Bring him out.” Yunho snarls, pressing the toy gun tighter against Wooyoung’s head. His finger must have slipped on the trigger, because there’s a pop sound and Wooyoung yelps, a foam dart falling to the ground.

“That hurt!”

“No, Yunho, he’s not supposed to die yet.” San corrects, shaking his head and completely ignoring Wooyoung. Yunho pouts, breaking character for a moment.

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, Hongjoongie-hyung, it’s your moment to shine!” San announces, turning to his leader. Hongjoong tries to make his way over, but then he steps on the hem of his red blanket and trips, sprawling on the ground in front of the camera. “Oh, that was very good acting, hyung!”

“That wasn’t acting-”

[VLIVE Heart Count has reached 49k]

Mingi glances across the script. “Leon clicks his tongue and you see your captain shoved forward, head bowed and hands bound in front of him. Part of you desperately wants to run to the man who named you, to insist he never incline his head to someone he doesn’t respect, but you are completely powerless now. He looks so small- Doesn’t hyung always look small? What’s the difference?”

“Yah, Mingi!” Hongjoong shouts as he attempts to get up, but trips and falls again. Jongho is snorting uncontrollably, hand reaching for a cup of popcorn that definitely wasn’t there earlier and Yeosang’s face is buried in a pillow as his body shakes with laughter.

“Bring me the cat.” Yunho snaps, getting into the mood once more, and San glances around for his extra.

[@teajuns commenting: yunho really getting into it kshdksj]

“Jongho, you’re going to be the guy that whips Hongjoong-hyung.”

Jongho couldn’t look happier, jumping to his feet at the words, his eyes shining.

“Really?”

Hongjoong’s eyes widen almost comically in horror and he desperately scrambles back. “He’s going to break my back!”

“We don’t have a whip, but we do have a squeaky hammer!” San grins, pulling out the plastic mallet from the box. He tosses it to Jongho, who catches it and eyes it with a vindictive smile Hongjoong’s honestly quite terrified of.

“Don’t worry, hyung. I promise I’ll be gentle.” Jongho looks more terrifying than that Leon guy could ever be. Striding over, he rips the red blanket from Hongjoong, leaving the poor leader on the ground. He raises the squeaky mallet.

The sight is menacing.

“I’m not doing this!” Hongjoong shrieks, running for his life around the dance studio, Jongho chasing after him. Seonghwa documents the whole thing, spinning round and round in circles before he finally retreats the the floor.

“Sorry everyone, I got too dizzy.” He apologises with a laugh.

“Let me go!” The leader screams as Jongho catches him by the legs, sending both of them sprawling to the ground.

“Tell me who broke my guitar string!”

“Never!”

The maknae raises the hammer and mercilessly thwacks his hyung with it, the rubber hammer going squeak squeak squeak.

“Fine, fine, fine! I broke it while trying to play Havana, okay? God, please just stop hitting me! I surrender!”

There’s a final, hard smack and the hammer goes flying out of Jongho’s hands, hitting Wooyoung straight in the face.

[@roamingthesails commented: i can’t stop laughing this is so stupid]

Squeak!

“Ow! I’m not even a part of your scene, Jongho!”

“Hongjoong’s back is a mutilated, bloody mess of raw flesh and shredded skin, crimson streaming from several open wounds. Your captain is on his knees, face pressed against the floor, body trembling.” Mingi baulks a little at the intense description. “You can’t even begin to imagine what absolute agony he must be in, your musket wound was nothing compared to this. But your captain remains silent, teeth gritted against the torment brought on with each swing of the whip. Honestly, you’re so cool in this story, hyung. The last time you got a paper cut you nearly cried and went to Seonghwa-hyung to get a plaster-”

“I didn’t!” Hongjoong groans from the floor, attempting to massage his back. Jongho climbs off him with a triumph grin, settling next to Yeosang.

“Now act like you’re strong and laugh at Yunho, Hongjoong-hyung.” San directs his leader, but the lead rapper simply remains prone on the ground.

“I’m dead, I’m dead…” He moans, lying on the floor like a dead fish. “Just let me die…”

San squirts a bottle of red liquid on his back and Hongjoong screams, leaping off the floor in fright. The back of his shirt looks like a bloody mess. “San, what was that?”

“Ketchup.” The brand is blurred out, but it’s ketchup, alright. “It’s supposed to be your blood.”

“I showered before this…” Hongjoong whines, staring mournfully at his shirt. San ignores him and moves to check his script once more.

[@faith032101 commented: Does this make Hongjoong a snack?]

[VLIVE Heart Count has reached 105k]

“Act evil and tell Hongjoong you’re going to whip Wooyoung too.” He instructs, and Yunho turns to Hongjoong with an evil grin that looks way too into character.

“Let me go!” Wooyoung tries to slip out of Yunho’s arms, but fails spectacularly once again. “I don’t want to get beaten up by Jongho! How is this kind of thing even allowed to be aired-”

“I wonder if your tongue will loosen if I do it to one of your crew, then?”

“I don’t want to die!”

“Now rip Wooyoung’s shirt, Yunho.” San instructs, studying the script. Wooyoung shrieks, doubling his efforts to become Houdini.

“This shirt cost me eighty two thousand won! Don’t do this to meeeee-”

[VLIVE Heart Count has reached 579k]

[@addictmaniac commented: TAKE ONE FOR THE ATINY TEAM AND DO IT YUNHO]

Mingi adds on grimly. “Uncaring of the gun at your head, you flail and thrash against him, to no avail.”

“This shirt was expensive-”

With that, Wooyoung finally breaks free of Yunho’s grip, but the momentum brought on by his little escape sends him stumbling and he trips over Hongjoong’s blanket, before sprawling on top of his leader.

“Ow!”

“Wooyoung, you little-”

“Oh my god Hongjoong’s finally found out Chin Hae is a woman!” Mingi gasps in shock, a hand coming over his mouth. Yeosang gapes in shock.

“Oh no! What’s going to happen? Wooyoung’s going to hate her and they’re never going to be together-”

“Eh, I more of shipped her with captain anyway.” Jongho drawls.

“And he looks so betrayed! Hongjoong, don’t be sad! I promise Chin Hae didn’t want to lie to you-”

“I knew it from the beginning…” Hongjoong groans from under Wooyoung. Mingi ignores him.

“Not you, the cooler Hongjoong in the book.”

“She’s coming back with us. I hope you’re pure for sale, my sweet, but I suppose that may be difficult when you’re on the same ship as so many men- I sound like a pervert, I’m not saying this.” Yunho shakes his head, tossing the script away. It smacks into the camera.

“Ah!” Seonghwa rushes to save it. “Yunho!”

“Hongjoong-hyung, you’re supposed to shout Wooyoung’s name and we get a smoke bomb-”

“But I’m the main character!” Wooyoung protests as he heaves himself off his leader. The front of his shirt is sticky with ketchup, as if he’s the victim of a homicide case.

San pauses to think for a moment. “That’s true. We’ll just move on then. Jongho, smoke bomb please!”

Jongho picks up the cup of popcorn and throws it into the air. It goes absolutely everywhere.

“Great work, Jongho!”

“He flies out of nowhere, lunging for your captor. Leon snarls and tries to kick him away, but then he raises a short knife and buries it in Leon’s arm. The man holding you stumbles back onto the gangplank, falling onto the ground and your saviour takes your hand.” Mingi reads aloud, eyes wide. Then his mouth falls open. “Yeosang, you’re going to-”

[VLIVE Heart Count has reached 1.7M]

“Yeosang the knight in shining armour to the rescue!” Jongho pulls three kazoos from his pockets and blows wildly. The screeching noise almost breaks a few thousand eardrums around the world.

Yeosang stands up, picking his way through the ketchupy, popcorn mess that is the room. He takes Wooyoung’s hand awkwardly.

“Like this?”

“Great! Yunho, pick up the party popper there and shoot Yeosang with it!” San cheers, almost grinning madly. Yeosang’s eyes widen in horror.

“Wait, what-”

Boom!

[@pinkrosesandblackthorns commented: YEOSANG IS DEAD ARGHHHH]

[@sassy-kpop-glitter commented: NO! NO! YEOSANG NEEDS TO LIVE AND BE HAPPY! DON’T BE SO CRUEL YUNHO]

[@ateez-8-makes-1-team commented: HOW COULD YOU DO THIS YUNHO]

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Yunho yelps, dropping the confetti gun.

Yeosang slumps to the ground, groaning. “That hurt…”

“Join the club.” Hongjoong mutters, a few inches next to him and completely spent.

“Wooyoung, go and shake his body and cry.” San whirls around dramatically, tossing his script into the air.

Wooyoung finally decides to try his hand at acting and sinks to his knees next to Yeosang. San shakes another red bottle on the two of them. “NAORIIIII!”

“No, that movie is Goblin, Wooyoung-”

“What is this ketchup? It’s burning my skin!” Wooyoung shrieks and San double checks the bottle, face turning a little pale.

“Oh. It was chilli.”

There’s a moment of silence as Yeosang and Wooyoung both stare at each other. Then they’re bolting for the door in horror, dashing from the dance studio while tripping over their own feet.

San follows, calling after them.

“Need any help, guys?”

“I’m a terrible person. I’m a terrible cruel, cold hearted man who just killed Yeosang with a confetti gun.” Yunho is mumbling to himself. Mingi pats him on the back, pushing him out of the door as well.

“Maybe you should get some rest, hyung. I hear the author has some pretty nasty stuff planned for you after the Sea Witch arc…”

[@chasingatinydream commented: STOP SPOILING THE STORY MINGI]

The two vanish out of the door.

“I’m going to take a shower and see a doctor.” Hongjoong groans, dragging himself after them. The door clicks shut behind him.

The camera turns around to fit Seonghwa’s unruffled face into the frame.

“Well, that was Pirate King, chapter 22, gunshot. Roll credits.” He shows the floor, the scene of a massacre with popcorn scattered everywhere. “I suppose this is just a good opportunity for cleaning up, hmm?”

[VLIVE Heart Count has reached 3.6M]

The next thirty minutes of the VLIVE are of Seonghwa’s Cleaning ASMR.

[reeesea]

Something Sweet: Part Three

~sweet beginnings~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, jisung/minho

warning: mild language 

words: 2.5k ish

summary: sweet beginnings and small apartments, also Seungmin baby shows up 

a/n: Im honestly just proud of myself for posting a third chapter woo!! lemme know if you read and enjoyed <3

also the spacing got wack trying to do the text convos, so hope the bold and non bold isn't too gross to look at. Minho and Jisung

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

Minho wakes up to the sun streaming in through the thinly veiled curtains over his window. Thankfully he woke up to a minimal headache in spite of having gone out to the bar and an impromptu concert the night before. Rolling over in his small twin sized bed he reached for his phone to check the time and any potentially important notifications. 

9:26 am 

[ 2 new messages from Rich Boy Han Jisung ]

Minho finds himself smiling at the new messages from the boy that had stumbled upon him last night. 

2:25 am

Youre right I do hear it all the time

but it sounds pretty sweet coming from you ;} 

I'll tell J.One you thought he was amazing

9:28 am

Careful Han, your cockiness is showing

Jisungs’s cocky demeanor does nothing but make him more endearing to the older, but something gave Minho the impression that the boy already knew this. Not expecting a reply from the other this early in the morning, Minho stretched out of bed and made his way out of his small bedroom and quietly to the shared bathroom. Not a small feat in the old apartment shared by him and his roommates. Creaky floorboards, squeaky doors, and over all close proximity to each other makes being quietly courteous in the morning a frequent challenge for the boys. 

The living room at the end of the small hallway was turned into a shared bedroom for Minho's two roommates. Felix’s mattress had gotten a bed frame from some trading website a few months back when he moved in. The makeshift wall of hung shower curtains and a fold out screen gave the boys the illusion of privacy between their respective sides of the room. Even though more times than not, Minho has come home to find the lanky brunette curled up in Felix's bed instead of on his designated couch. 

Climbing over the piles of the boys’ clothes, Minho makes it to the bathroom without disturbing the other two. The two were still passed out from working their night shifts, draped over each other on the freckled boy’s bed. Neither showed signs of awakening any time in the morning hours. Minho showered quickly and changed in order to make his way out of the apartment and on his way to the studio to practice his Saturday away

Minho would have thought that the both of them would have remained in their university dorms for the summer, if they weren’t able to find apartments on their own. But, at some point after he had graduated, he had gained himself plus two of his underclassmen as roommates. He really couldn't complain though, it all made sense as all three of them were a part of the same dance studio, barely a block away, and all had reasons to be saving money. Paying a fraction of rent really helped with all that had to be saved in order to pay for school, studio fees, living, breathing, and most importantly audition fees. 

As the summer had set in, so had the wave of audition opportunities for companies and crews. Felix had mentioned needing to prepare a video audition last week for a few entertainment companies in the area. Hyunjin was busy trying to save up his money to pay for the upcoming semesters at school to graduate like Minho had. 

Entering the practice room and being welcomed by the distinctive scent of a dance studio was enough to bring Minho back to reality. Since graduating, he had been stuck in his thoughts about what to do with his future a lot. His childhood dreams of getting into the prestigious Yellow Wood Dance Academy seemed to slip farther away from him with every passing year. His audition tapes each year during university were almost always sent back, along with a ‘We are sorry to inform you…’

 It’s not like Minho couldn't keep applying, but with every year the rejection stung a little bit more, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to take another blow. No matter how confident Minho acted about his looks, when it came to dancing his ego was glass fragile. His passion for dance sometimes felt like the only thing that kept him standing, but it had been a while since he had felt rewarded for his dedication. Even when his practically broken dream haunted him a little too much, focusing back to his craft really gave him a better grasp on reality. Making his way to the front of the room to plug in his phone to pick music, a new notification popped up. 

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

10:03am 

dw dw its all fake i assure you, all just a ploy to get you to like me

What you up to on this fineee saturday mornin??

Hmmm wouldnt you like to know 

i only tell boys i like so...

Minho smiled in spite of himself. Even over text the sparkly eyed boy was able to pull out and dust off his genuine smile. It had definitely been a while since Minho had found himself freely smiling, but here comes Han Jisung crash landing into his life, running amuck. After spending a moment debating whether or not just to tell the younger of his activities anyway, he came to the conclusion that mentioning dance would only result in more questions, and Minho really wasn't feeling like spilling his passions and dreams with the other already.

Haha i am only even more motivated now >:D

Dont strain yourself too much with that, 

im just enjoying my saturday before my shift later.

Queuing up some music Minho migrated to the middle of the room to casually freestyle and warm up for the day. Allowing the music to flood his ears, movements to take over his limbs, and only his feet to remind him of where he was, Minho’s mind went blank as he began to relax and give up control of his body to the steady beats of the song.

---

By the time Minho wrapped up his practice and was  heading home the sun was already starting to settle on the lower half of the sky. Surprisingly the day had passed him by quickly. Spending the whole day grinding out a routine he had been recently working to perfect was not usually an overall fun time, but Minho found that he was able to keep his practice productive and enjoyable. 

His smile throughout the day certainly had nothing to do with his breaks to text to Jisung. The casual banter between them felt natural, and the light conversation made him feel lighter on his feet as he moved across the floor. Even with the flirty nature of their introduction, their conversation never steered far from how anyone would expect two close friends to interact. Minho found himself smiling more throughout the day as he checked Jisung’s messages throughout the morning and afternoon. 

12:25 pm

Also for the record my capacity to flirt is honestly quite unimpressive 

I hope you aren’t talking to me for my stage charisma and charm 

To sweep you off you feet, i may be a disappointment

Usually i'm just awkward, cant flirt, doesnt leave the house, Jisung

You almost tripped over your feet walking into the bar last night

Dw im not sure id want you to sweep me off my feet with that balance

You wound me ;--;

 By talking to Jisung, he had somehow managed to satisfy all of Minho’s previous curiosities while sparking new ones. Even with Minho generally avoiding giving away his own personal interests and dreams, Jisung didn't hold those same reservations and filled their conversation with “fun facts” and lively stories. Jisung’s lively play by play of the bickering taking place between his group mates, now officially introduced as Chan and Changbin, had Minho giggling on the floor of the practice room. The way Jisung described everything brought it to life in ways that he hadn’t expected from a casual text conversation. The boy was definitely a great storyteller even just over type, and Minho found himself wondering if he would get to hear his endless stories in person.

---

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

3:36 pm

Youre one interesting man Lee Minho

Han, you know almost nothing about me

On the contrary I feel like I know a good amount

Youre name is Lee Minho

You work at the fancy restaurant Menu 98

You used to work at the bar we were at last night

You have a really beautiful smile

…

Are you quite done

Definitely not but if i start going off about how stunning your eyes are 

you might block me

Which would be a shame please dont

What happened to awkward Jisung who cant flirt huh?

Minho returned to the small apartment to find Felix attempting to cook some ramen in the microscopic kitchen and Hyunjin sprawled across the couch watching some variety show. Felix was probably fueling up in order to spend the night gaming the weekend away before his work overtook his weekdays again. Hyunjin barely looked to be conscious but still managed to wave a greeting to Minho as he walked into the room. 

“How’d practice go?” 

“Pretty well. Finally was able to clean up that middle section I’ve been messing up.” Minho hurried into the other room to shower once again before heading to the restaurant for his evening shift. 

“Oh glad to hear it.” Felix’s voice filtered in from his place by the stove that was shoved in a corner of the room, along with a fridge and a sink that barely classified it as a kitchen unit. None of the three were complaining, the stove heated up their ramen water and the fridge kept their milk cold, what more could they ask for?

“WAIT, did you talk to that guy at the bar last night???” Hyunjin’s loud voice carried from the couch through their thin walls allowing Minho to clearly hear even if his bedroom door was closed. 

“Which one, Jinnie?? You gotta be more clear than that.” Minho had actually stacked up a few numbers from his night and received atleast ten free drinks from other patrons. Not too bad for the first night out, but of course the only phone number he had bothered messaging happened to be the one he had been texting all day.

“You know the one, the rapper one you left to go see perform.” Minho of course knew, but he wasn't gonna admit it to his roommate so easily, and just hummed in response eliciting a groan from the younger. 

“If you haven’t, you so should. 3racha is all everyone from the bar is talking about. Their concert must have been a big deal or something.” 

“WHAT, 3RACHA? You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Felix, apparently a fan, shuffles in with his ramen in hand to accompany the loud outburst.

“Hyung! One of them gave you their number?? They’re literally like the next big thing in the music scene. Which one of them was it?”  

J.One, Han Jisung, the cute pink hoodie guy

“His name is Jisung I’m pretty sure.” Minho was very sure. “I didnt know they were such a big deal” 

“J.One gave you his number? Damn hyung, you don't even know. They’ve been performing locally for years but their fan base has grown a ton in the last year. There’s rumors that they've signed with a company and are going to come out with something soon.” Felix continued spouting off information on the group to them, as Minho continued his routine of preparing for work at Menu 98. 

---

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

4:35 pm

Looks like my roommate is a fan of you guys

We’re not talking the tall beautiful bartender from last night right

No that was Hyunjin, Felix is the fan

beautiful?

Ah atleast ill be on the good side of one of ur roomies

Yeah tall boy was pretty, but something about him made me think he didnt like me

I think it was his face, and his height

Most tall pretty boys dont take too well to a squirrel boy being in their territory ya know. 

Whats not to like about a cute squirrel boy

Im sure he likes you and youre over thinking

If his two roommates like you, he’ll have to like you by association

:o 

Did Lee Minho just admit to liking me 

Wow the development, less than 24 hours 

We love to see it

Your ridiculous

I said nothing of the sort

Sure sure hyung

Gtg now, dinner shifts starting

Have fun at work!!!!

(wait can i call you hyung???)

Minho left him on read as he walked into the restaurant, already bustling with waiters and the changing of shifts for the dinner crowd. ‘Less than 24 hours’ and Minho was already admitting indirectly that he liked the boy he had only just properly met the night before. Stranger things have happened he supposed. Minho continued to surprise himself with this one though. He was not one to seek out friendships or relationships. Anything more than the very occasional one night stand, was practically void from Minho’s social life. Other than the people he had met through dance and his roommates, there were very few others that Minho had chosen to form any kind of relationship with. Even his co-workers were mostly just faces and names he had to remember in order to do his job well. 

Well, expect Seungmin.

“You look awfully happy today, who spiked your coffee this morning?” Seungmin had been a newly inserted character in Minho’s life but they became fast friends after a few too many late night shifts without proper caffeination. 

Seungmin had been a newly hired host at Menu 98, just the average polite university student with enough experience to get hired. When Minho met him they exchanged the basic pleasantries and thought that would be the end of that, until one fated closing shift. A certain, tipsy, entitled, rich, high class asshole of a customer had held up Minho’s section for much of the night. Minho found himself being bossed around and verbally berated throughout the night, trying to serve the women who appeared to never be satisfied with the food or service Minho was offering. By the end of the night, she was their last customer and Minho saw her to the front to pay. His customer service smile, strained and barely holding up, and the woman’s complaints, even while paying, had him wanting to drop all his pleasantries and curse her out as she waltzed out the door.

    “What an absolute fucking pain in the ass of a woman”

Minho hadn’t thought he had said his thoughts aloud, but looked up to catch Seungmin, who had let the words come out in hushed tones as he held a sickening polite smile on his face. After that point the two had bonded over various pain in the ass customers and a mutual love for sarcastic backhanded insults. Minho's relationship with Seungmin was probably the closest thing to a friendship that the older had experienced in a while. 

“No spiked coffee, sadly” 

“Well something’s making your usual sad bitch face smile, so it's gotta be good. Hmm...Meet someone?” Seungmin’s signature puppy eyes were on full display, but not without the signature  mischievous glint they always held. 

“Well wouldn't you like to know Seungmo~ but me and my usually flawlessly beautiful face got to go charm our way into some extra tips.” Minho gave the boy a gentle pat on his head, that was met with a stubborn pout forming at the younger’s lips.

“You definitely met someone, you usually don't have this much self-confidence so early into the evening.” Minho did nothing but giggle at his comment and made his way to the back room to begin his shift. 

------

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

[whatsmylaneagain]

Amethyst - Third Chapter

Pairing: Eggsy x Agent!Reader

Word count: 1960 (a big one!!! Yay!!!)

Warnings: swearing, Roxy mention (bc she deserved more), reader’s character being a rebellious lil shit, Eggsy being kinda dumb (oh well this is all kinda narrated by his point of view, there’s no way to not expect that, right?!)

Chapter synopsis: so, we know that the bomb had Eggsy’s name on it, but.... what the hell is actually happening?

A/N: GUYS IM BACK AND IM SORRY!!!! I’ve written (and revised) this more than six months ago, but I absolutely hated how I made Eggsy a dumb character, so I spent all this months putting this story aside to fix it later... but I love it so much and this week I watched Spies are Forever and oh well.... idk, its been too long, but I’m posting this anyway.

Amethyst masterlist

Eggsy didn’t expect to find another person other than Harry and Merlin at the Kingsman’s meeting room. And what he definitely didn’t expect was for the person to be a beautiful Chinese woman laughing and having a drink with Harry Hart. The young man felt like he was invading a private moment, and had the sudden urge to grab y/n by the arm to show her the new victorian-style sconces he chosen for the rebuilt hallway.

But before he could say anything, y/n had already tapped the doorpost, making their presence known. The middle-aged woman talking to Harry glanced at the two young agents, giving the girl a sly smile. 

“I’m glad to know you didn’t punch Mr. Unwin on your way here, y/n” she said, as Eggsy went straight for his chair on Harry’s right side.

“I would’ve if you didn’t send me that text” The girl had moved to the woman’s side, backing up to the wall for support. She never made mention of pulling a chair.

“Well, y/n, I take as you already know Harry.” Said the woman, gesturing to the older man, who smiled sweetly. Yes, that’s right. Harry SMILED.

“Of course, The Great Harry Hart, the man of a thousand missions;” when Eggsy thought he couldn’t get more confused, y/n pulled this. “Everybody at the headquarters knows who you are.” And some - fucking – how, she sounded genuine, and not witty or arrogant as she appeared to be. Was that… admiration?

Seeing Eggsy’s confused expression, the older woman gave him a small smile, welcoming, but not too sweet; just like an agent is used to do.

“Galahad, I’m Yijun, or as my agents – or people who can’t bother to learn how to pronounce it - call me, Circe. I’m the head of Amethyst, the agency that y/n works for.”

Eggsy must have looked very confused, because Harry intervened, while pouring two more drinks, giving him one and sliding the other across the table, towards y/n.

“Yijun is an old friend, we met some weeks after she came from China. I was already a Kingsman, and was trying to bring her into the organization – just like I did with you – when she was recruited as an Amethyst trainee.”

“You knew?” Started Eggsy, a little bit of irritation shaping his words. After agent Whiskey, he knew better than not to trust Harry. But he couldn’t help the feeling of being a pawn. “Why did you let me go after her then?”

“I didn’t know the agent who saved you was y/n. All I knew was that she was an Amethyst, since the intervention was fast and clean.”

“-almost clean;” Yijun turned her chair to y/n, who was taking a sip out of her drink, still leant against the wall. “If Morgan’s work were perfect, you wouldn’t be able to find her.”

“Nobody’s perfect, but I try my best.” She shrugged. “’m still your best agent tho.”

“Please,” Merlin entered the room, an IPad in hands, ready to the briefing. “put the blame on me for being able to hack into almost anything, including London’s surveillance cameras. She did a wonderful job.”

Merlin stopped right in front of y/n, extending his hand for a handshake. She grabbed it immediately.

“Miss Le Fay. Hope our codenames won’t be a problem.” 

“I don’t see why, Sir Merlin. The witch from who I borrowed my name could very easily have been Merlin’s apprentice.”

No awkward pressure thing, from what Eggsy could see. Why were his interactions with her so bloody awful? For god’s sake, y/n was joking with Merlin!

It took him a moment to remember what history the two were referring to: Morgan Le Fay was a witch in King Arthur’s story, from where Kingsman got their codenames. Depending on the version, she can be portrayed as Merlin’s enemy, responsible for the death of King Arthur or as a powerful good woman, that had healing powers and could shape shift. For an organization like Amethyst, Eggsy supposed the second option was the one they had in mind.

Merlin greeted Yijun with a respectful “ma’am” before selecting something on his device, the projection of a document showing up on the wall above y/n.

“The techs over Amethyst sent us their reports on missing people, and turns out the man who you two,” Merlin looked at Eggsy and y/n. “saw is Adrian Bell. Seven months ago, he apparently went on a trip to India, but his family didn’t hear about him after he left. He never showed up on the airport camera footage.”

“So... he planned to disappear?” Interfered Eggsy.

“Apparently, yes. But there’s a problem.” Merlin changed the projection, it now being a series of pictures, especially ones where Bell hugged his family tightly, his wife crying, and his kids glued to his leg. It looked like a reunion. “He doesn’t remember anything and woke up asking for his family. His last memory was being in a bar and passing out. He thinks that he was in an alcoholic coma.”

Eggsy was about to ask a lot of questions, but Merlin had started talking again, while taking two Kingsman’s RayBans out of his pocket, giving each woman a pair. 

“I’ve made a partnership with the group of cooperative organizations led by Amethyst, also called D.E.A.R; Diamond, Emerald and Amethyst Relations -” Introduced Merlin, but Eggsy wasn’t really paying much attention to him. 

Instead, he was observing y/n, who hesitantly spun the glasses in her hands, analysing it, differently from Yijun, who just put them on right away. Her mouth twitched on the side, and she started to bite her tongue, as if trying to distract and put herself together. Y/n put them on, but kept looking down for some seconds, before fixing her posture and raising her head, crossing her arms, still leant against the wall on one shoulder.

It was quite weird seeing y/n wearing the glasses. Even though she had noting that could possibly remind him of Roxy, Eggsy couldn’t stop the deja vu of his best friend. A sad smile adorned his lips. He missed her.

A Kingsman-style hologram of a young 16-year-old girl appeared sitting on one of the chairs, big extravagant round sunglasses framing her face along with bright pink streaks on her brown hair. Although she was a teenager (and dressed like one, in a jean jacket and a white tee that said “girl power” in red), she sat perfectly straight, very professionally.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Tonks, Emerald’s tech and field agent. I just came back from an information gathering mission.” which, as a previous Emerald’s agent, y/n knew was just a fancy description for attending parties. Nothing too dangerous, especially for Emerald’s missions, that were more based in socialization and keeping an eye on people. Actually, y/n was impressed that Tonks had something substantial to report (especially to Kingsman) in a high school party. “A group of unmatchable individuals seems to be working together, all of them acting really uncharacteristic and very patronized. I detected the group spiking other teen’s drinks. I managed to intervene and get a sample of it. Agent Spellman also reported a strange movement, alike the one I observed, with a college group. We sent the samples to our biotechs, and the lab concluded it was a modified Mikey Pinn.” The girl grabbed her phone and sent something, the IPhone message sound reverberating through the room. “Now you have access to our outhouse cameras, Merlin.” 

Merlin quickly changed the projection above y/n to eight squares of video that showed each teen in one small room, some asleep on the beds, some walking around nervously, and one passed out on the floor. Tonks started talking again.

“Spellman and I brought the group of high school and college students to our outhouse. Whatever drug they’re on soon will wear off, and then we’ll be able to analyse what happened to them.”

“Was that the first ever occurrence on your field, Tonks?” Asked Yijun, and then turned to the Kingsman’s, explaining; “Emerald agents that work on high schools usually only have to get in action to stop violence and abuse at their missions. Situations like what we’re dealing with right now is uncharacteristic.”

“No, Boss. Some students stopped going to classes suddenly, but we checked: they all were confirmed on exchange programs abroad. Apparently, they never went.”

Y/n wasn’t leant on the wall anymore. She’d walked to the table, bent over it, hands open, pressed on the cold wood, all her attention on Tonks. Tension.

“Who were the kids? High school and college. Why choose them?” She said.

Tonks flipped through her phone, messaging Merlin more documents - the ring once again filling the room - before answering.

“A rugby player, two perfect grade kids and a foreign student were the high school kids. Apparently, it’s a pattern: physically strong people and awarded students that stand out for their knowledge of exact sciences.”

“Have you tracked were they were drugged the first time?” Continued y/n.

“Not yet, but...”

“I did;” said Merlin, suddenly, typing on his IPad.

A new image showed up on the wall. The front of a bar that looked like it used to be fancy ten years ago. Now, the paint was coming off the walls, and the huge opaque black doors were rusted, chains and a big old padlock kept them closed. It had no name on the outside, only a broken light up waning crescent moon, just the inferior part working, shining in a weak yellow light.

Eggsy knew the place. Actually, every teen and young adult in London knew Moonz: the flat broke bar that let underage kids come in and drink. You didn’t even need a fake ID, they would pretend to not be able to do math and let kids in. In some months, it became domain of teens, turning into a considerably safe place for them to get drunk and party. Also, it was the cheapest place to get booze.

But the underage drinking caused a bigger problem; since it was illegal, the neighbourhood didn’t have a lot of cops because the owner kept them away. Consequently, Moonz’s location became a centre of violence, kidnapping, and other heavy crimes.

The young Galahad saw y/n turn to the projection in slow motion, the act of being casual being thrown out of the window. For Eggsy, she looked like a robot who got rebooted and installed a completely different system of command. When she spoke again, her voice was strong and deep.

“Tonks, do you know when it started?”

“It?” Asked Eggsy. 

“The kidnappings.” Y/n answered. “The fact that they were drugging others looks like it was a kidnapping system. In this context, those kids were “recruiting” more teens.” 

Tonks checked her phone.

“No, Morgan. We couldn’t track it. They apparently are the first ones to come back.”

“Shit.” Y/n paced around the room. “Boss, permission to do an observation and protection mission at Moonz.”

“Permission granted” nodded Yijun “take Galahad with you.”

“Yi, I don’t think the gentlemen can pass as a teenager.” Y/n had stopped walking. She looked straight into Eggsy’s eyes. “With all due respect...”

Yijun shook her head. 

“You know there are other ways to get him inside undercover.”

Y/n ran her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath. Eggsy could almost hear her thinking “Fuck. Fine.”.

“C’mon Galahad, we’ve got a job to do.”

Eggsy and Y/n were almost out of the room when Yijun called her agent again.

“Oh and Y/n.” The girl turned around. “Don’t engage. I’ll send Emerald agents to protect the kids, but you and Galahad can’t have your covers blown up. Do. Not. Engage. Do you understand?”

All Y/n did was nod slightly.

If you made it to here, thank you so much! I hope it was worth your time! Some feedback would be appreciated, I really wanted to see if you liked this (dumb) Eggsy I’m presenting.... If you don’t want to be in the taglist anymore, I totally understand! Just message me :)

Also!!!! Feel free to message me any questions about the fic and this chapter! I have some fun reasons for choosing those codenames and Diamond, Emerald and Amethyst as the names for the organization!

Amethyst taglist

@a-dorky-book-keeper @50shadesofuncomfortable @arizonacolleen @infinity-of-high-dreaming @toasty-fish @pink-smarties @mc225g @dadd-ilf @sueeatstheworld @katorgatorgalaxy @the-ink-and-salt-club @incorrect-mcdanno @xelizabethvalentinex @ahyestheandersons @thatdamnokie @wxxnks @awesomewees @ryedikkulus @discodeak @clacestan @y-dadd

(If you got the notification again, sorry! I had a problem with the taglist and had to do it again!

[starstaiined]

Would You Lie With Me & Just Forget The World?

Chapter 2

SUMMARY: The world is a dangerous place. It can be big, scary, and almost overwhelmingly dark. But despite all the negative aspects, despite all the pain and turmoil, Katherine Howard has always found a brief reprieve in the other queens. Particularly, in her older cousin. (And as loathe as they are to admit it, the other queens have to agree with her.) Anne Boleyn can be chaotic, wild, and reckless  … but she’s also passionate, kind, and effervescent. Her boundless energy acts as a barrier against the bad in the world. But when that barrier breaks and the world turns on its head, can Kat manage to navigate the turbulent waters without her cousin by her side?  

CHAPTER ONE // 

TW: Implied abuse/neglect, Implied sexual abuse, Panic Attack, Car crash 

A/N: sorry this chapter took so long! I ended up having to trim parts out and it isn’t as smooth as I was hoping for, but this is one of the rougher chapters to set up because of all the background. (I’m setting this in my own AU verse/idea that I’m still writing up the lore for, if anyone wants to hmu for that feel free!) 

TAGGING: @the10amongstthese3s  @radcowboyalmondtree  @tonight-we-are-live  @the-queen-bee-is-here  @everything-insanity  @whoufflewhovian200311  (if you want to be added, just reply to this post, send me an ask, or hit up my ims! these are the people I know who were interested!) 

“Annie, I’m scared.” 

Anne froze, the almost inaudible admission tugging at her heart. She climbed down from the garage roof as easily as she’d climbed up. “You don’t need to be scared, Kit. I’ve got you, okay? Just trust me.” Anne smiled mischievously, shooting her brightest gap toothed grin at her cousin.

Kitty visibly relaxed, and Anne showed Kitty how to use the materials lining the side of the building to get to the top. (After it, it wasn’t more than a few feet in the air.) But as ordinary as the view may have been, it was extraordinary because they were there together. 

Anne dropped to book bag she’d brought with her, unrolling the blanket and wrapping it around Kat’s shoulders. “Can’t let the birthday girl get too cold now, can I?” She asked with a teasing grin. She reached into the bookbag, unaware of the surprise on her cousin’s face. She handed Kat some silly plushie she picked up at the store, and a (terribly smashed) attempt at a cupcake. 

“You...you remembered?” Kat asked, looking down at the presents her cousin gave her as if they were the greatest thing in the world. The genuine shock in her voice startled Anne. 

“Of course I did Kit...why wouldn’t I? It’s not everyday your favorite cousin turns seven, after all.” 

“Dad and the boys sometimes forget...” Kitty attempted to appear nonchalant, although it was obvious she was upset. 

“They do what?” Anne growled, and Kitty flinched away at the change in her voice. Not now, Anne chided herself, using every ounce of teenage self restraint she had in order to plaster on the cheesiest grin she could muster. “I’m sure they’re just...planning a surprise or something.” 

“Maybe.” Kat mumbled, but it was clear she didn’t believe it. 

They sat in silence, before Anne’s lips curved back into their usual grin. She nudged her younger cousin. “Why don’t you spend the night? We can play board games and watch movies. I’ll even let you-oh.”

She’d been cut off mid sentence by a hug, and found Katherine peering up at her. “You’re the bestest, Annie! I love you.” The younger girl’s face shone with excitement that hadn’t been there moments earlier. 

Anne couldn’t help but mirror that joy. She ruffled Kit’s hair, laughing at the expression it produced. “I love you too, Kit. And I’m here for you. Always.” 

But their short moment was cut short as her father’s voice echoed up from the ground down below. “ANNE BOLEYN, GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW! THE LAST THING WE NEED IS YOUR POOR HABITS RUBBING OFF ON LITTLE KATHER-” 

And with that, Anne woke with a start. She damn near fell off her bed with a yell, catching herself last minute and blinking sleep out of her eyes. The other side of the bed was empty. Thank god. It meant Kat had slept with Jane instead, and she hadn’t accidently interrupted what little sleep the girl managed to get. Anne flopped back down on her bed with a sigh. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, energy buzzing in her exhausted muscles demanding that she get moving. She glanced at the alarm clock. 6:03 A.M. 

Well, that was as good a time as any to start the day, wasn’t it? She rolled out of bed, quietly, and made her way to the bathroom. She ran through her usual morning routines : brushing her teeth, throwing her hair up in a tight bun, changing out of her pajamas and into running gear. By six thirty, she was ready to run. With her headphones fixed firmly in her ears and music blasting, she let her muscles guide her. The song playing pulled up another memory, a little fuzzy around the edges but still soft enough to pull a smile from her. 

Family Christmas parties, everybody’s favorite time. Except not really. Anne dealt with it as best she could, which was ignoring damn near everyone and doing her own thing. She was choreographing a dance routine to a song that had just come out, earbuds in and focus completely on the movement of each muscle in time with the beat. Which is why she didn’t notice George until it was too late. He slammed into her side roughly, knocking her off her feet and sending her sliding across the floor. Anne stared slack jawed for a moment, recovering her breath, before yelling “What the fuck George!” 

“Careful Ninon, don’t let dear old dad hear you using that language.” George answered with a smirk, towering over her. The gleam in his eyes made it clear he was in one of his moods, which meant Anne was in for it. If there was one thing George excelled at, it was pushing her buttons. 

“Why don’t you go bother Mary for once?”

“Because Mary’s actually socializing with the family, unlike you.”

“Sorry, not sorry, but I’m trying to have fun. I’m not interested in being judged for stupid reasons, okay? I just want to be left alone.” 

“Don’t want to be judged, don’t give them reasons to judge you. It’s simple, really.” George answered with a shrug. “Besides, considering your …. reputation I don’t think they’re stupid reas-” 

“I don’t really care about your opinion, George.” Anne snapped, face immediately heating up. She pushed herself to her feet, taking a couple steps away from him. “Maybe you should shut up.”

“Maybe you should stop being such a sl-” He didn’t get to finish that thought as a pink blur knocked into his legs. It caught him off guard; he flailed his arms wildly to no avail and ended up tripping over his own feet and landing on his ass. Anne blinked in surprise. George pushed himself to his feet quickly, visibly seething. “What the fuck!” 

Ten year old Katherine Howard, about two feet shorter and at least a hundred pounds lighter, didn’t break eye contact with George from where she’d positioned herself; she stood directly in front of Anne as if she were a human shield. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” She deadpanned. 

“Brat.” George hissed, pointing a finger at the young girl menacingly. 

Kat just shrugged, but she could feel her hands trembling. “Takes one to know one, right?” 

Anne laughed, making her brother’s face flush six different shades of red. George, thoroughly humiliated and beyond angry, stormed off. Almost immediately Kat’s shoulders deflated. Anne pulled her younger cousin into a side hug. “KitKat, you are my hero.” 

“We’re family.” Kat answered back, her voice muffled by Anne’s shoulder. “We always protect each other, don’t we?” 

Anne smiled. “We do.” 

The memory faded. The burning in her muscles, and the unfamiliarity in her surroundings, made it clear she’d gotten lost in her head longer than she’d meant to. Crap. It took her nearly an hour to find her way back. She made a beeline straight for the fridge once she did. She gave the calendar a quick glance as she opened the fridge to pull out a carton of orange juice, before doing a double take. 

November 4th. Kitty’s birthday was less than a week away! How in the hell had that happened? Anne was usually on top of these things, but between the interviews and the show and her work on choreo...she could feel guilt flooding her system. Shit. She wracked her brain, trying to remember whether or not Kitty had been acting strange recently. She’d seemed a little lethargic but Anne had chalked that up to being overworked with the show…

She didn’t think twice. She rushed up to Cleves room, flinging the door open in a panic as she shook the other girl. “Anna!” She hissed, voice low but pressing. “Anna, wake up!”

“Anne…?” Anna asked groggily. “What time is it…” 

“It’s eight.”

“What are you doing up? We didn’t go to bed until almost tw-”

“Shh, that doesn’t matter right now. I’m going to the store. Do you want to come?” 

Anne’s voice brimmed with urgency, but Anna was too tired to register it. She buried herself deeper into her blankets. “With your driving? No thank you, Miss Boleyn, I choose life.” She waved a hand dismissively, eyes never so much as cracking open. The warmth of her bed was too enticing. 

Anne heaved a sigh, but accepted Anna’s answer. She ran to the kitchen, scribbled a quick note on a post it, and attached it to the fridge. 

Need to run some errands. Urgent. Be back later. XO, Anne. 

And with that she disappeared through the door, the orange juice still sitting forgotten on the counter. 

The shopping went quickly. Or well, as quickly as it could go when Anne Boleyn was involved. She spent hours loading her cart with Kitty’s favorite snacks and movies, picked up random little knick knacks that she thought Kitty might like. (Hell, she even managed to find some cute presents for the rest of the queens.) Brimming with excitement about her haul, and eager to show it to the others, Anne was in a phenomenal mood when she hopped back in the car. She was jamming along to every song coming over the radio, grinning from ear to ear. 

The buzzing of her phone on the seat next to her snapped Anne out of her private karaoke concert. It was probably just Kat calling to check up on her. She could feel warmth spreading through her chest as she let out a breathless giggle, turning down the music and running a quick hand through her hair. She found Kitty’s worry endearing, although she half wished Kitty would realize that Anne would be fine. After all, she always was. 

She half debated it letting it ring to voicemail, just until she could answer without taking her hands off the wheel. That was….until the name on the caller ID caught her attention. 

THOMAS HOWARD.

Suddenly, all the mirth she’d felt drained out of her like air out of a popped balloon. She hadn’t spoken to her uncle in YEARS. The last time she’d seen him was the day that she had left, Kitty tucked under one arm and spare clothes under the other. He made good on his promise to ostracize both of them.

Kitty’s head is buried in the crook of her neck, tears staining the collar of her shirt. “I’m sorry,” Kitty chokes out between sobs, barely comprehensible. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Anne, it’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” 

Anne could feel a storm building beneath her skin, aching to break free and wreck every single person that had driven her cousin to this. SHE WAS A CHILD! But over the last few years, Anne had watched the light drain from her eyes. She was just kicking herself for not realizing what was going on earlier… But she can’t focus on that. Not right now. Instead she rubs soothing circles on Katherine’s back, rocking the girl back and forth. “It isn’t your fault, Kit.” Emotion rubbed her voice raw, and it takes everything in her not to cry. “None of it is. Not a damn thing. Do you hear me? Not a single damn thing.” 

If anything, that just seems to make Kat cry harder. “It is, it is Annie. I know it, and he knew it, and, and, and everyone knows it.” She’s cut off by a sob that shakes her frail shoulders. “He knew it, he said it, he-”

“He’s a piece of shit, Kit! I’m sorry, but it’s true. Your dad sucks. I wish it weren’t true, I wish you could’ve had the life you deserve. Somewhere far away from this bullshit.” Anne croaked out, a few silent tears falling as she fought to maintain a steady voice. “But you didn’t get that, instead life gave you a crappy hand and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. But I can promise you one thing.” Anne tucked Kitty’s head under her chin. “I know it isn’t much, but I’m here for you. Always. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’m right here. And I’m always going to be right here, okay?” 

With a few sniffling breaths, Kitty nodded. Slowly, hesitantly, she held out a hand with her pinkie extended. In a small voice, she asked, “Pinkie promise?” 

Anne was all too happy to link their fingers. “Pinkie promise.” 

They made themselves more comfortable in the living room, still a tangle of limbs but this time a tangle of limbs under a blanket. Before drifting off to sleep, Kitty squeezed Anne’s hand. “Annie?” She asked, drowsily. 

“Hm?” 

“Earlier...earlier you said that you weren’t much...but you are. Okay? You’re the best. And I love you. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

Anne squeezed her hand gently three times. I love you. “Don’t worry KitKat, you’ll never have to find out.” 

Anne’s thoughts flashed to every time since then that Kitty’s tears staining the collar of her shirt, to the way the poor girl had trembled from nightmares that stole her breath. She remembered rushing out on errands like this, doing anything and everything to pull a smile out of her cousin, who spent the week leading up to her birthday WISHING for that call from the rest of the family. Thomas Howard failed as a father consistently over the past two years, and there’s almost no one Anne hates more. (When she thinks of him, all she can see is Kat trembling, crying out my fault, my fault, my fault. Just thinking about it makes her jaw clench.) Even now, in what she assumes is an attempt to make amends, he was calling her and not Kitty!

She reached over, answering it swiftly and bringing it to her ear. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear what you have to say, I need you to shut the hell up for two seconds and listen to me, Thomas.”  Anger boiled in her veins and sharpened her tongue, but blurred everything else. In the haze of her own hatred, her focus on the phone pressed to her ear, she missed the truck that was swerving on a path directly towards her.

[hockeybabestars]

New Year, Same Us - Auston Matthews - Eight

a/n: im going out of town for a football game/visiting friends this weekend and i’m not bringing my computer so i thought i would post this early for yall!! thank you to every person who has been keeping up with this story and liking or reblogging! you mean so much to me! i hope yall enjoy the longest chapter of new year same us, to make up for the shortest in chapter seven (yikes!) we’re almost through with this story yall! we have a lil flashback in this chapter! (in italics) and finally have the prompt that started it all! (in bold)

September 18, 2018

Austons P.O.V

“Aus?!” She yelled from her room. “Are you almost ready?” 

I had been ready for 20 minutes and was sitting on our couch waiting for her to finish up. “Yeah I’m ready now!” I rolled up my sleeve to get a better look at my watch, “are you almost ready? It would look really bad if my plus one made us late.” I snicker as I heard her heels clack, the light to the hallway going off simultaneously.

 I got up from the sofa as she entered, and boy, was I going to have to keep an eye on her tonight. She looked stunning. The light pink dress cinched her curves in all the right places, and her hair was in waves. She was like something out of a dream. She didn’t bat an eye as she went to the kitchen looking for the keys. I came up behind her and dangled them in her face, and before she could snatch them I pulled them away. She reached for them again but I held them behind my head, and suddenly she was all too close to my face. I glanced down at her lips, wanting to kiss them badly but then I quickly diverted back up to her eyes. “You look stunning (Y/N).”

I could feel her breath hitch against my own lips and the minty flavor of her gum hit my nose before she smiled genuinely, her signature smile where her lips tilted a little crooked at the corners, and it made my heart flutter. “Thanks Aus, you don’t look too bad yourself.” 

She stepped away and we did a once over of our apartment, making sure we didn’t forget anything. I grinned and opened our front door for her, watching her walk as she went. I locked the door and we went down the hall towards the elevator, “just out of curiosity,” she toyed with a strand of her hair, eyes flicking up to me through long lashes, “how much did your suit cost?” She was smirking at me and I couldn’t resist really. “Wanna bet on it?” The elevator dinged for us to get on and she rolled her eyes, “do I even have a choice?”

“No use fighting at this point babydoll.” I flashed her my signature smirk as the floor indicator ticked down.

“Does that really work on girls?” She played.

“Apparently not on you.” I laughed but deep down I kinda hoped it did.

“It’s because I know you better than you know you.” She stated matter of factly. She did though. That was the scary part. We hit the first level and strolled out, before she added thoughtfully, “did you want it to work on me?”

I felt my cheeks flame, and was thankful she was walking slightly ahead of me, “uhh,” I faltered before gaining my confidence back, “depends on if you wanted it too.” 

She stopped for a split second, giving me a chance to catch up before she continued walking, this time leaning into me a little bit, “maybe.”

My heart jumped at that, “Still wanna make that bet?” I opened the car door for her. She thanked me and I hopped in the drivers side.

“Am I betting high or low.” She gave me side eye as she buckled her seat belt and we were off.

“What do you think?” I grinned. There’s no way she gets this. “Do you know your suits? What brand am I even wearing?” I smiled. 

I could feel her eyes on me as mine were on the road, and she reached over and ran her finger down the lapel of it, feeling the fabric. I tried to concentrate on the road but she was leaned over the console examining the details of my suit, looking for anything that would give away the designer or price. I needed to think fast, I could tell this would be a long night already and it hadn’t really even begun. 

I swatted her hand away, “hey stop it! that’s cheating.” I smiled and looked over at her as we hit a light. She placed her palm flat against my chest as she mocked me, pulling her lower lip into a pout. I could feel my heartbeat pick up and surely she could too.

 “Just seeing what I have to work with Aus.” The nickname melted off her tongue like butter and really I only like it when she says it anyway. The light flashed green and I grabbed her hand off my chest, entwining our fingers together and resting them over the middle console. “I’m betting high, what like $7,000? Is that too much for a suit? What is it Gucci? Aren’t you like their poster boy or something?” 

I laughed at her accusations and she squeezed my hand a little too hard. “Ow! Jeez woman that hurt. Those are my money makers!” 

She swatted at me again, “sorry not sorry. Isn’t like half your closet Gucci or something. I feel like I should know this but I’m really drawing a blank here.”

A smile crept up onto my face. She’s cute when she’s thinking too hard. She always over thinks or over-analyzes everything. It’s like it’s written in her DNA or something.

She looked over at me and I attempted to keep a straight face, “it’s Gucci isn’t it.” I nodded. “$7000 close?”

I kept a tight lip. She turned towards me, “it’s fuckin higher isn’t it!!!” Her voice raised towards the end and I burst out laughing. 

“$10,000.” Her jaw dropped, “what do I get since you couldn’t guess it?”

“I can’t believe you spent $10,000 on a suit.” She was in awe, “that’s like a trip to Europe, or a down payment on a car, what are you psycho?”

“Are you really belittling me right now?” I chuckled, “you guessed $7,000 that’s just as high!!!” 

“Yeah but-“

“But what? $7000 okay to drop but $10 is too much?” Her face went blank as she tried to process it and I howled as her eyebrows knit together. She was something else.

“I hate you.” She fought to keep the smile off her face.

“Your mouth says otherwise.” She covered her lips with her hands as we pulled up to the venue, she finally pulled them off as we valeted the car. And as we walked into the rustic barn I elbowed her a bit, grinning wildly, “seriously though, what’s my prize since you didn’t guess right?” 

She linked our arms as we tried to figure out where we were sitting and smirked at me, “Bragging rights.”

“I bet we could make it a little more interesting.”

“Oh of course you bet huh.”

“You owe me a dance.”

She pouted. “Aus-“ 

“Nuh-Uh. We’re dancing later, it’s the least you can do.”

I can tell she wanted to press me further but instead she just nodded, “Okay.”

“Wow, I didn’t think that would be this easy. I need to win bets more often.” I knew how much she hated dancing. It was because she had two left feet and literally tripped over herself on any normal day. She didn’t like to embarrass herself. The truth was, she wasn’t a bad dancer at all. She could dance fine by herself, especially after a drink or two. But she was clumsy enough that partner dancing wasn’t really her thing. I always try to get her to at weddings and events but she doesn’t budge. She's stubborn as hell, but it’s why I love her. She doesn’t change for anyone. Not even me. I always ended up finding some random bridesmaid to dance with at these things, but tonight she was mine. 

We wandered further into the barn stopping for a few pictures together before the ceremony as Paige snapped away on her phone and a film camera as well. Mitch and Steph found their way to us too and soon enough we had group pictures with the six of us, then guys, girls, and finally as we finished up it was about time to find our seats. 

The Tavares wedding was really going to be something. Greenery was everywhere and there was a modern feel to their set up even with the more natural elements. I put a hand on (Y/N)’s lower back and guided her to our seats on the grooms side. We were in the middle back and slid into the refurbished white bench with ease, the rest of our group following suit, filing into the row after us. I wrapped an arm around the back of (Y/N)’s seat as she crossed her ankles, leaning into me while we waited for the ceremony to start. A comfortable silence settled over us and somehow both our free hands found each other on their own accord. Soon enough she was playing with my fingers, clasping and unclasping them, tracing the outline of my hand and holding our palms up to watch our hands align. It was something we had done plenty of times before. Whenever we got bored or were watching Netflix or at family events. It was inevitable that our hands would meet. Her hand was a lot smaller than mine, and we quietly played a game of thumb wars before the loud chattering settled down. I could hear the preacher say to rise, so I gently grabbed her hand in mine and lead her up. She was still leaning into me as we waited for the bride to make her way down the aisle. 

John and Aryne chose to say their own vows although short and sweet. It was nice. Being here, celebrating them. (Y/N) was the perfect wedding date. She was classy and reserved when needed but could definitely open up and make conversation with anyone who approached her. And soooo many people approached her. Which was crazy because she was the plus one. But that’s just (Y/N), stealing everyone’s heart the way she stole mine. 

It had to be obvious at this point. I thought my incessant flirting and annoying her every chance I got would be enough to give her the hint, but apparently not. I thought that living together was another sign that maybe I was kind of into her but she just took it at face value since it was the most logical option. I think I really realized how I've felt this past May. I mean, it was there all along, but I didn’t admit it to myself until then. She started hooking up with some random guy at college, and when I walked into some kid in our apartment it made my stomach lurch. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that sick in my life.

I had talked to her earlier in the day. We were on a long road trip in the west and I was excited to get back and see her. 

It felt like maybe things had been changing between us lately, and I wanted to get back and test the waters a little just to see if she even felt a tiny bit the same. It was easy with her. I missed her like crazy, constantly texting to see what she was up to, and sending snapchat updates of what the boys and I were doing, just because I knew she would send a picture back and I could see that gorgeous face again. 

Our flight was delayed because weather in Toronto was pretty bad.  And we didn’t end up landing till pretty late. I texted her when we landed at 12 that I would be home soon. I never got a response so I figured she was asleep. 

What I didn’t expect, when I came home at 1am on a Saturday, was some random guy going through the cupboards in our kitchen with just his boxers on. 

“Uh who are you?” I had a sour taste in my mouth.

The guy looked up from his position on the floor, going through the bottom cabinets and I swear almost shit himself. “Oh my god you’re Auston Matthews.” I frowned. Oh jeez a hockey fan, how rare in this city! He shook his head in disbelief and stood up, walking over to me and put his hand out for me to shake. I took it, begrudgingly. “I’m Reese, it’s really nice to meet you, although I never thought it would be like this.”

I scoffed, but he didn’t seem to notice. He found (Y/N)’s post it notes on the kitchen island and pulled one off handing it to me, “do you think you could sign this for me?”

“What the hell is going on here? Reese I thought-” (Y/N) ‘s voice sounded a little groggy, like she might’ve been sleeping, but when she came out of her room, only clad in black lace underwear and a t-shirt I presumed to be his, my breath caught in my throat. One because she looked damn good. And two because she was wearing his clothes and practically nothing else. I felt a fire in my chest. I swallowed hard and tried to remain neutral. 

When she finally realized I was home her eyes went wide. “Oh, uh, hey Aus.”

“(Y/N) you didn’t tell me your roommate was the Auston Matthews.” This guy was still here?

She uncomfortably glanced over at me. Yeah me too. “Uh roommate? Try best friend.” I said smugly.

“I didn't see a reason to bring it up.” She said. Ouch that hurt.

“Sorry Reese bro, but I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, I really need to get to bed and I’m sure your friend (Y/N) here can fill you in on all the dirty details later. Have a great night.” I walked past them and into my room, shutting the door. Trying to get ready for bed without my head exploding from everything that just happened. I waited until I could hear him leave before I went and knocked on her door.

“What Matthews?” I opened it slightly and peered in, leaning on the door frame and watching her fix her bedding a bit, now in another old t-shirt. 

“Matthews huh? Can I come in?” She nodded and crawled under the white comforter patting the spot next to her. I sat down on top of it before rethinking this whole situation. “Actually can we go to my room?” I wasn’t really comfortable that they just fucked in here and wasn’t too keen on sitting in the bed that someone else got to touch her in. 

She nodded and as I grabbed her hand, I felt tingles. I didn’t dare to look behind me as I lead her to my room. We crawled under the covers and sat against the headboard.

 We stared up at the ceiling a bit before she turned to me. “You’re so dramatic.” 

I looked over to her and I could tell she was slightly upset. “But I know that’s not exactly the most fun thing to come home to and I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. Were you ever gonna tell me you were kinda seeing someone?” My jealousy got the best of me, and I couldn’t help but let it seep into my voice a little as I ask.

“No not really, you never tell me when you do...So.” She shrugged, and I tilted my head back a little, groaning.

“You don’t tell people we’re friends either?” It sucked knowing that maybe she was ashamed of me for whatever reason. I always told everyone about her. I loved to talk about her and how proud I am of her for working hard in college and her internship which she officially secured, and just being the amazing, kind hearted person that she is.

“It’s different… I- I don’t tell strangers or people I just met or at least until I have a grasp on their personality. I stopped doing that a long time ago. I can never tell if they want to be friends with me, or have a relationship with me, for me or to get to you.” 

“Oh.” It sucks, but it makes sense.

“Oh. Is right. Also I don’t want people to be up either of our asses if they're just clout chasers.” She smiled, shaking her head as I laughed, “Just not how I want to spend my time.”

I sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kick him out, that was just weird and I wasn’t expecting you to have company and-“

“Auston. It’s okay. I should’ve warned you in some way, or gone to his place. Maybe this whole thing could’ve been prevented. I’m the one who’s sorry. That situation was pretty awkward.” I don’t want her at some guys place. I want her with me.

I grabbed her hand and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. My stomach churning as I did so, “Stop worrying. Don’t be sorry either. We good?” She nodded and entwined our pinky’s. “Always.” And with that she slipped out of the darkness of my room and back down the hallway to hers. And my heart ached with every step.

Maybe I wasn’t doing enough, maybe I just needed to be upfront. 

I took a swig of the beer I was drinking and set it back on the table as I watched her converse with Steph, Paige, and Aryne, Probably complementing the bride on her gown and the allure of the wedding.

Pretty soon we were eating steak, mashed potatoes and wedding cake, and my stomach was all too full when the bride and groom shared their first dance. I looked to (Y/N) to see her swooning at John and Aryne adoringly. She was facing the back of her chair, hands resting on the back of it, and chin resting on her hands. “Don’t you just love those two together?” Her nose crinkled. It was really cute.

I stood and held my hand out to her as other couples started to join in on the dance floor. She looked up to me, eyes slightly glazed from her glasses of champagne, but I knew she was at a good level. Sober enough to make good decisions, buzzed enough to have a good time. “Are you gonna dance with me?” My heart felt like it was racing as I waited for her answer.

She took my hand so I took it as a yes. I lead her out to the dance floor, Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran coming on as we stopped in the middle. She wrapped her arms around my neck and my hands settled on her waist, pulling her close. My stomach churned with nerves and a little bit of excitement. I looked down at her, her head on a swivel, looking everywhere but me. Other people are looking at us and her brow knit in confusion. Her hand was burning a hole where it was placed flat against my chest. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” I touched her forehead lightly, then bringing my hand back down and wrapping it around her waist securely.

She looked back to me, eyes widening, “It’s nothing.”

“You know you can tell me anything right?” I tried, pulling her back into me as she slowly tried to pull herself away. “That’s what friends are for. And hey, quit trying to leave me!” I laugh, grinning. “Were kind of in the middle of that dance you owe me.”

She smiles back softly but glances around the room again, this time almost self consciously. “It’s just that… I don’t know- I don’t really know how to say it without sounding weird.”

“Are you okay? Is something wrong? You know nothing you say will ever sound weird to me? I’m pretty sure we’ve been through it all.” I leaned my forehead against hers and try to ease her mind but she seems so off. I don’t know what happened because everything seemed normal when we first got here.

She took a breath and pulled back a little looking right at me, “Everyone thinks we’re a couple.” I could see the nerves riddling her features and it made me curious as to why. It’s not what I was expecting, but it made me grin, “I know.” 

“You know? It doesn’t bother you?” Her nose scrunched again.

“Should it? Does it bother you? I mean, personally I think I could do worse as far as fake lovers go, but…” She playfully shoved me and we fell right back into place, swaying as the song went on melodically.

“It really doesn’t bother you?” She seemed unsure, but avoided my question nonetheless, looking up at me as if the only answer I could give would be yes. That it does bother me. And that couldn’t be further from the truth.

I shrugged trying to play it cool, “why would it bother me?”

 “I don’t know…” She looked away, back to the surrounding crowd as the song changed. “You’re Auston Matthews.” She huffed. “You can get any girl you want. Wouldn’t people believing that… we’re an item… wouldn’t that get in the way?”

I grabbed her hands in mine, looking down at them. She instinctively clasped them together and my heart warmed as I glanced back up at her. “That’s just the thing.” We had stopped dancing at this point, and I’m pretty sure we were in the way of people trying to dance, but I didn’t mind. “You don’t see me as the Auston Matthews. You never did. You just see me as Auston Matthews, your extremely good looking and talented best friend.” I smirked.

“Way to ruin it.” She laughed.

I gently pulled her closer, “you see me as the dumb kid who broke his arm at your eighth birthday party, and the horrible friend who spilled punch on your prom dress, and the annoying son of bitch who always tries to force you to dance. You never see me as someone who’s untouchable,” I grab her hand and place it over my heart, “you always touch me.” She looked as if she lost her breath, eyes swirling with emotions. She carefully removed the hand that was over my heart and stood still for a second. She looked back up to me meticulously, “let’s get some air yeah?” I let my hand rest on the small of her back and nodded as she lead the way out, one step ahead of me. My heart was pounding in my chest.

I couldn’t be more grateful for the little piece of privacy that we had out here. The air had turned slightly cooler, and I could see her shiver a little, although she would never admit she’s cold. I shrugged my suit jacket off anyway as we walked along the outside of the barn. The sun was starting to go down and the chill in the air picked up. I wrapped my jacket around her shoulders, and used it to pull her in closer to me. 

She muttered a thanks and I sucked in a breath. Now or never Matt’s.

But she turned to me sharply, beating me to the punch, “you can’t just say stuff like that you know?” 

“Why not?” Her eyes met mine and the wary look on her face told me what I needed to know. I know what she’s thinking. And she means more to me than anyone. She must know that. She has too.

“You could never get in the way of anything (Y/N).” I tucked a lone strand of hair behind her ear as her eyes sparkled and flickered up to mine. “It doesn’t bother me because I don’t want just any girl.” I toe around the subject, hoping she can figure it out before I have to say it outright.

“Well, what do you want Aus?” I want you. Don’t make me say it. Don’t make me ruin a good thing (Y/N). I don’t want to lose us.

My eyes flicker down to her lips. I close my eyes and lean in a little, nudging her nose with my own. Slowly but surely closing the gap between us. I could feel the electricity radiating off her, our lips barely touching before I heard a voice coming from the door. We broke apart, wide eyed, hearts racing, both looking to see who joined us outside.

Kappy looked drunk. And Paige looked like she was dying from laughter. They spotted us and made their way over. I looked back at (Y/N), her cheeks flushed and managing to look anywhere but me, although my arm was still wrapped around her. She leaned into my touch as they approached.

“Youuuuu guyssss.” Kap slurred and Paige just seemed to notice the position we were in.

“Uh Kappy needed some air, but I see you guys did too.” She grabbed his hand and tried to lean him into her for leverage. “We’ll just let you guys have some privacy.”

(Y/N) turned her face into my shoulder as Paige tried to shove Kappy back into the reception. I looked down to her and laughed. She did too, bringing her face out of my shoulder. I would’ve tried to recreate the moment but it seemed like it was lost as she grabbed my hand and tugged me back inside. “C’mon Aus, we should get back.” And I had no choice but to follow.

[space--cadet-glow]

Translation: German manga of “The Minish Cap”, Part 1: “Link and Vaati”

So, after long last, I have translated all seven chapters of the German version of the manga version of “The Minish Cap” in the entirety. Because I could. I also have the Japanese and Italian copies of “The Minish Cap” and the German version of “Four Swords” that I’ll also do eventually. Also, I’m tempted to do some translation theories, too (in the same vein as the “Forest vs. Town” argument analysis)... But, for now: here is the completed first chapter! I’ll try to remember to post one chapter a day.

My translation key: DT: „direct translation" (translated word for word) EQ: "English equivalent" (as in, as close to an English-sounding sentence as it's gonna get) DT/EQ: „"direct translation/English equivalent" (for when the DT is so similar to an EQ that it's practically English already) OE: "official English (translation as given in the English version of "The Minish Cap")" (NOTE:) "anything I need to point out" (exactly what it says on the tin) BG: „backwards German" for the Minish language in forwards form BOE: "the forwards version of the Minish language in the OE version" BOET: "the TRANSLATION of the forwards version of the Minish language in the OE version"

My translation work under the cut.

1. KAPITEL: „LINK UND VAATI" 1ST CHAPTER: "LINK AND VAATI" CHAPTER 1: "LINK AND VAATI"

Erzähler: „Kennt ihr die Minish?" DT: „Know you all the Minish?" EQ: "Do you all know the Minish?" OE: "Do you know about the Picori?" (NOTE: The book never specifies who's narrating, so I'm bringing back my default Storyteller.)

Erzähler: „Die Minish sind daumengroße Lebewesen, die überall leben." DT: „The Minish are thumb-sized creatures, that everywhere live." EQ: "The Minish are thumb-sized creatures that live everywhere." OE: "They're teeny, tiny creatures the size of your thumb that live everywhere in our world."

Erzähler: „Die Menschen wissen nichts davon..." DT: „The humans know not thereof..." EQ: "The humans don't know it..." OE: "Normal folks rarely see them..."

Erzähler: „...aber sie helfen uns immer wieder, ohne dass wir es wahrnehmen können." DT: „...but they help us always again, without that we it perceive able." EQ: "...but they help us again and again, without us being able to perceive it." OE: "...But when we're not looking, they help us out." (NOTE: Extremely idiomatic. Another translation could be "without us being able to be aware of it".)

Erzähler: „Denn die Minish..." DT/EQ: „"Because the Minish..." OE: "That's because..."

Erzähler: „...lieben uns Menschen." DT/EQ: „"...love us humans." OE: "...the Picori love people!"

Link: „Und hopp!" DT: „And hopp!" EQ: "One, two!"/"Alley-oop!" OE: "Hup... Two..." (NOTE: Both translations work and make an equal amount of sense.)

Toneffekte: „KLONG KLING" DT/EQ: „"KLONG KLING" OE: "KLANG KLANG" (NOTE: This is what I'm calling the "Sound Effects".)

Alberich: „Schönes Schwert. Sicher haben die Minish uns dabei geholfen." DT: „Beautiful sword. Certainly (x) the Minish us with helped." EQ: "Beautiful sword. The Minish certainly helped us with it." OE: "Oh my... That's a GOOD sword. The Picori must've pitched in on this one!" (NOTE: Alberich is still Smith. And conversational past.)

Link: „Opa, gibt es die Minish wirklich?" DT: „Grandpa, is there the Minish real?" EQ: "Grandpa, are the Minish real?" OE: "Grandfather, do the Picori really exist?" (NOTE: Yay, my least-favourite idiom.)

Alberich: „Na, aber sicher doch. Es heißt, nur Kinder können die Minish sehen." DT: „Well, but certainly still. It (is) said, only children can the Minish see." EQ: "Well, sure enough/for sure. It is said that only children can see the Minish." OE: "They say only children can see Picori. If you truly believe, you may see them yourself." (NOTE: ...Idioms. Bah.)

Link: „Wirklich...? Ich habe sie noch nie gesehen..." DT: „Really...? I (x) them still never seen..." EQ: "Really...? I've still never seen them..." OE: "Really?! I've NEVER seen anything like that!"

Link: „Oh, ich muss jetzt trainieren! Bis später!!" DT: „Oh, I must now train! Until later!!" EQ: "Oh, I must train now! See you later!!" OE: "Yipes! See ya later, Grandfather!" (NOTE: Take a drink for every time "Yipes" is used in the English translation. You'll be dead by the time Chilta shows up.)

Alberich: „Gib acht, Link!" DT: „Give attention, Link!" EQ: "Be careful, Link!" OE: "Have fun, Link!" (NOTE: I think the idioms are killing me more quickly than the game did.)

SIGN ON DOOR: „Magnus-Dojo" DT/EQ: „"Magnus-Dojo" OE: "Swiftblade's Dojo" (NOTE: What English calls Swiftblade, that is.)

(The German Translation then adds in an explanation for what a Dojo is). [ADDENDUM: „Trainingshalle für Kampfsportarten." DT/EQ: „"Training-hall for martial-arts."]

Link: „Hyaah!! Yaah!! Haaah!!" DT/EQ: „"Hyaah!! Yaah!! Haaah!!" OE: "Dah! Hyah! Taaah!" (NOTE: Link stayed Link. Naturally.)

Toneffekte: „Bamm Klatsch Huah!" DT/EQ: „"Bam Clash Huah!" OE: "Whack Whack Yah!"

Magnus: „Genug, Jungs! Das Training ist für heute beendet!" DT: „Enough, boys! The training is for to-day finished!" EQ: "Enough, boys! The training is finished for to-day!" OE: "All right! That's enough for today! Hmph!"

Magnus: „Morgen ist das Minish-Fest mit dem Kampfturnier!" DT/EQ: „"To-morrow is the Minish-Festival with the Martial Arts/Fighting-Tournament!" OE: "It's time for the annual Martial Arts Tournament at the Picori Festival." (NOTE: I'll just go with "martial arts" for now, since that's what the original Japanese used. This must be the reason how Vaati got in without a sword.)

Magnus: „Wer daran teilnimmt, kämpft im Namen unseres Dojos! Viel Erfolg!" DT: „Who there of partake, fights in (the) name (of) our Dojo! Much success!" EQ: "Whoever partakes in it fights in the name of our Dojo! I wish your success!" OE: "Participants, your behavior must bring honor to the Swiftblade Dojo." (NOTE: ...But... The English door said "Swiftblade's Dojo"... Which is it?)

Toneffekte: „Glänz" DT/EQ: „"Gleam" OE: "Shine"

Toneffekte: „Japs Japs" DT/EQ: „"Gasp gasp" OE: "Huff puff"

Link: „Jawohl!!" DT: „Yes indeed!!" EQ: "Yessir!!" OE: "Yes, Sensei!" (NOTE: Can also simply mean "Yes!!" in a very emphatic manner... But since Link is saying this to Swiftblade, I thought the "sir" part made more sense...)

Magnus: „Hm? Link, du schaust nur zu." DT: „Hm? Link, you watch only (x)." EQ: "Hm? Link, you're only watching." OE: "Hmm? You will only be observing, Link." (NOTE: "zuschauen"...)

Link: „Waas?! Ich bin aber angemeldet..." DT: „Whaat?! I (x) but registered..." EQ: "Whaat?! I already registered..." OE: "Huuh?! B-But I registered to compete!"

Link: „Bitte, Meister! Ich möchte wissen, wie gut ich bin!" DT/EQ: „"Please, Master! I would like (to) know, how good I am!" OE: "Please, Sensei! I want to test my skills!" (NOTE: There's only one reason I can think of for why German Link calls him "Meister" and not "Sensei"... And that's probably to draw a parallel towards German Vaati, who ALSO calls his teacher, Ezlo, "Meister" in specific.)

Magnus: „Viel zu früh für dich! Der Weg der Schwertkunst ist lang! Noch bist du nicht reif genug!" DT: „Much too early for you! The way (to) the sword-arts is long! Still are you not ready enough!" EQ: "Much too early for you! The way to swordsmanship is long! You are still not ready enough!" OE: "Hmph! I said no! The way of the sword is precise and disciplined! You are not yet ready! Hmph!" (NOTE: EINS, ZWEI, DREI, MARIONETTE NUN SEI.)

Toneffekte: „Glänz" DT/EQ: „"Gleam" OE: "Shine"

Link: „Menno. Menno. Menno." DT/EQ: „"Man. Man. Man." OE: "Hmph! Tsk! Rats!" (NOTE: „Menno" is sort of an... Interjection for annoyance/indignation. Seen as rather childish. Another way to translate it would be something like "Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.")

Link: „Und dafür habe ich acht Stunden am Tag geübt! Es gibt doch nur ein Turnier im Jahr..." DT: „And for that (x) I eight hours of (the) day practised! There is still only a Tournament (of) the year..." EQ: "And I practised for eight hours a day for that! There's only one Tournament a year..." OE: "I practiced hours and hours every day for this! The Tournament's just once a year!"

Toneffekte: „Murmel Grummel" DT/EQ: „"Mumble grumble" OE: "Mutter grumble"

Link: „Yaaaah!! Wirbelattacke!!" DT/EQ: „"Yaaah!! Swirl-attack!!" OE: "Swiftblade School Spin Attack!!" (NOTE: English version, please... Is it "Swiftblade's Dojo", "Swiftblade Dojo", or "Swiftblade School"??? Make up your mind...)

Vaati: "Hi hi." DT/EQ: „"Hee hee." OE: "Heh!" (NOTE: Likewise, Vaati stayed Vaati. That is, from the Japanese version's Gufuu...)

Vaati: „Ha ha ha ha" DT/EQ: „"Ha ha ha ha" OE: "Heh heh heh heh"

Link: „He, du! Was lachst du?!" DT: „Hey, you! What laughing you?!" EQ: "Hey, you! What are you laughing at?!" OE: "Hey, you! Are you laughing at me?!"

Vaati: „Ach... Deine kindische Technik war witzig..." DT/EQ: „"Oh... Your childish Technique was humorous..." OE: "I had to... ...It was such a pathetic display."

Link: „WAAAS?!" DT/EQ: „"WHAAAT?!" OE: "WHAT?!"

Vaati: „Tja... Ich zeige dir, wie man richtig Bäume fällt..." DT: „Oh, well... I show (to) you, how one correctly trees cut down..." EQ: "Oh, well... I'll show you how one correctly cuts down trees..." OE: "Now, now. Want to see the REAL way to defeat a tree?"

Toneffekte: „Baazzack!!" DT/EQ: „"Baazzack!!" OE: KRAK KRAK KRAK KRAK" (NOTE: NO CLUE.)

Vaati: „He he he he..." DT/EQ: „"He he he he..." OE: "Heh heh heh heh"

Link: „Was... Was war das?!" DT/EQ: „"What... What was that?!" OE: "Who... Who is that guy?"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Hallo, Link!" DT/EQ: „"Hello, Link!" OE: "Link!" (NOTE: Name's the same.)

Prinzessin Zelda: „Link!" DT/EQ: „"Link!" OE: "Link!"

Link: „Prinzessin Zelda!" DT/EQ: „"Princess Zelda!" OE: "Princess Zelda!"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Was ist denn hier passiert?" DT: „What (x) then here happened?" EQ: "What happened here?" OE: "What happened here?" (NOTE: FINALLY. A MATCHING LINE OF DIALOGUE. THANK YOU, PRINCESS.)

Link: „Ach, nichts! Bist du mal wieder allein vom Schloss hierher gelaufen? Der Minister macht bestimmt wieder ein großes Theater." DT: „Oh, nothing! (x) You (softner) again alone from (the) Castle here run? The Minister makes certainly again a great fuss." EQ: "Oh, nothing! Did you run here from the Castle alone again? The Minister will certainly make a great fuss again." OE: "Nothing... Never mind. Did you sneak out of the Castle again? The Minister's gonna be mad!"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Nun, heute ist doch das Minish-Fest. Lass uns zusammen dort hingehen!" DT: „Well, to-day is still the Minish-Festival. Let us together there go!" EQ: "Well, to-day is the Minish-Festival. Let's go there together!" OE: "But the annual Picori Festival is today. C'mon, let's go see it together!!" (NOTE: I love how Zelda just casually dodges the question.)

Link: „Nö." DT/EQ: „"Nope." OE: "I'm not going." (NOTE: ...Bröther. The lämp...)

Toneffekte: „Fosch" DT/EQ: „"Fosch" OE: "Fwp" (NOTE: Okay, no clue.)

Prinzessin Zelda: „Warum nichts?" DT/EQ: „"Why not?" OE: "Why not?"

Link: „Ich muss trainieren! Geh du allein hin!" DT: „I must train! Go you alone there!" EQ: "I must train! Go there alone!" OE: "I'm too busy training! If you wanna go, go alone!"

Toneffekte: „Heul..." DT/EQ: „"Cry..." OE: "Plip"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Du bist so gemein! Ich habe mich so drauf gefreut, mit dir auf das Fest zu gehen..." DT: „You are so mean! I (x) myself so (x) pleased, with you to the Festival to go..." EQ: "You're so mean! I was so looking forward to going to the Festival with you..." OE: "Why are you being so mean? I s-snuck out so w-we could g-go together!" (NOTE: Idiomatic...)

Toneffekte: „Flenn flenn" DT/EQ: „"Blub blub" OE: "Sniff sob wail"

Link: „Ooooch, das war doch nur ein Witz! Ich hab mich auch darauf gefreut!" DT: „Oooohh, that was still only a joke! I (x) myself also there pleased!" EQ: "Oooohh, it was only a joke! I was looking forward to it, too!" OE: "R-Right... I was just kidding! I've been looking for you!" (NOTE: *intense sobbing*)

Link: „Wein doch nicht, Zelda. Komm, wir gehen los!!" DT: „Cry still not, Zelda. Come, we go let's!!" EQ: "Don't cry, Zelda. Come, let's go!!" OE: "Please don't cry! We've got too much to see!"

Toneffekte: „Freu" DT/EQ: „"Pleased" OE: "Perk"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Ja. ♪" DT/EQ: „"Yes. ♪" OE: "Yaay! ♪"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Schnell! Es fängt schon an!" DT/EQ: „"Quick! It began already (x)!" OE: "Come on! It's already starting!"

Toneffekte: „Bumm bumm bumm" DT/EQ: „"Boom boom boom" OE: "BOOM BOOM BOOM"

Link: „..." DT/EQ: „"..." OE: "..." (NOTE: Finally, a game-accurate line of dialogue.)

Link: „Das war ja schon immer so... Ich kann nie »Nein« zu ihr sagen..." DT: „That was indeed already always so... I can never »No« to her say..." EQ: "It's always been this way... I can never say »No« to her..." OE: "It's been like this ever since we were little... I can't say no to her." (NOTE: Yes, the French-style quotation marks are used.)

Toneffekte: „DING DONG" DT/EQ: „"DING DONG" OE: "KLANG KLANG"

Leute: „Oh, Prinzessin Zelda! Link, du bist ja echt gut mit ihr befreundhet." DT: „Oh, Princess Zelda! Link, you are indeed really good with her friendly." EQ: "Oh, Princess Zelda! Link, you really are friendly with her." OE: "Look, it's Princess Zelda! You two sure are close, aren't you, Link?"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Oh, hi hi. ♥" DT/EQ: „"Oh, hi hi. ♥" OE: "Tee-hee!"

Link: „Sei ruhig! Komm, Zelda!!" DT/EQ: „"Be quiet! Come, Zelda!!" OE: "Shut up!! Let's go! C'mon!"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Warte, Link! Da gibt es eine Lotterie!" DT: „Wait, Link! There there is a lottery!" EQ: "Wait, Link! There's a lottery over there!" OE: "Wait, Link. There's a lottery!"

Link: „Ach, da gewinnt man eh nie! Höchstens nur einen Trostpreis..." DT: „Oh, there win one anyway never! Mostly only a consolation-prize..." EQ: "Oh, no-one ever wins those! At most, just a consolation-prize..." OE: "Why bother No one ever wins... Not the good prizes, just the cheesy little ones!"

Toneffekte: „Kling klong" DT/EQ: „"Kling klong" OE: "RING RING"

Bruna: „Hauptgewinn!!" DT/EQ: „"Jackpot!!" OE: "We have a big winner!" (NOTE: Bruna is still Pina. You'll see why I keep saying "still" much, much later...)

Bruna: „Hauptgewinn an die Prinzessin! Ihr habt freie Auswahl!" DT/EQ: „Jackpot for the Princess! You have free choice!" OE: "First prize right at the start! Choose anything you like!"

Toneffekte: „KLONG KLONG" DT/EQ: „"KLONG KLONG" OE: "RING RING"

Person 2: „Wahnsinn!" DT/EQ: „"Madness!" OE: "Wow, Princess!"

Person 3: „Prinzessin, nehmt den herzförmigen Stein! Er steht Euch gut!" DT/EQ: „"Princess, take the heart-shaped stone! It suits you well!" OE: "Get the heart-shaped stone, Princess! It's cute! It'd look GREAT on you!"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Ich nehme diesen Schild." DT: „I take this shield." EQ: "I'll take this shield." OE: "I'll take this shield."

Link: „Wieso?! Du darfst dir alles aussuchen. Der Stein ist doch hübsch..." DT: „How-so?! You may (for) you anything choose. The stone is still pretty..." EQ: "Why?! You can choose anything. The stone is so pretty..." OE: "Huh? You got FIRST prize. You should chose something better." (NOTE: And no, that's not a typo. English really says "chose" and not "choose".)

Prinzessin Zelda: „Nein, ich möchte den hier." DT: „No, I would like the here." EQ: "No, I would like this here." OE: "No, THIS is what I want."

Bruna: „Wirklich? Ihr seid aber seltsam..." DT: „Really? You are but strange..." EQ: "Really? You're rather strange..." OE: "I see the Princess has... Umm... Interesting taste!"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Hier, Link. Schade, dass du diesmal nicht am Turnier teilnehmen konntest. Aber ich weiß, wie gut du bist. Und damit wirst du noch besser!" DT: „Here, Link. Sad, that you this-time not in (the) Tournament partake could. But I know, how good you are. And therewith will you still better!" EQ: "Here, Link. It's a shame that you couldn't partake in the Tournament this time. But, I know how good you are. And with this, you'll get even better!" OE: "Here. I'm sorry you can't participate in the Martial Arts contest. You'd've done great. But use this while you're training for next year." (NOTE: Slightly idiomatic.)

Link: „Oh... Das wusstest du...?" DT: „Oh... That knew you...?" EQ: "Oh... You knew that...?" OE: "Huh? She knew?!"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Klasse! Du siehst toll damit aus!" DT/EQ: „"Classy! You look terrific with that out!" OE: "It's perfect! You look SO cool!" (NOTE: That's STILL what she said.)

Link: „He he... Danke." DT/EQ: „"He he... Thanks." OE: "Heh heh... Don't embarrass me!"

Toneffekte: „Bumm bumm bumm" DT/EQ: „"Boom boom boom" OE: "BOOM POOMF BAM"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Das Turnier beginnt. Lass uns zum Schloss gehen!" DT: „The Tournament begins. Let us to (the) Castle go!" EQ: "The Tournament's beginning. Let's go to the Castle!" OE: "Let's go to the Castle. The Marial Arts contest is about to start!" (NOTE: DARNIT, ENGLISH. Is it "Tournament" or "contest"?! MAKE UP YOUR MIND!)

Link: "Ja, los!" DT/EQ: „"Yes, let's!" OE: "Where to next?" (NOTE: But... English... This speech-bubble is AFTER Zelda's... She's already told you... Where you're going...)

Prinzessin Zelda: „Link, kennst du die Vorgeschichte vom Minish-Fest?" DT: „Link, know you the history of the Minish-Festival?" EQ: "Link, do you know the history of the Minish-Festival?" OE: "Do you know the story behind the Picori Festival?"

???: „Waah! Waah! Waah!" DT/EQ: „"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" OE: "HURRAAY ROARR YAAY" (NOTE: The people... Cheering, I guess?)

Person 4: „Gewonnen!!" DT/EQ: „"Won/Win!!" OE: "Look! He won!" (NOTE: Means both; and both make sense. The announcement of who won the match, but all I'm hearing is Yzma as a kitten...)

Link: „Klar! Die Minish-Legende... Opa hat sie mir erzählt." DT: „Clearly! The Minish-Legend... Grandpa (x) it to me told." EQ: "Clearly! The Minish-Legend... Grandpa told it to me." OE: "Yeah. The Picori Legend. My Grandfather told it to me."

Link: „Vor langer Zeit, als schreckliche Monster unsere Welt bedrohten... ...und die Städte vernichteten... ...stiegen Minish vom Himmel herab und gaben einem Helden das Schwert." DT: „Before long time, as terrible monsters our world threatened... and the cities destroyed... ascended Minish from the Heavens/sky down and gave a Hero the Sword." EQ: "A long time ago, as terrible monsters threatened our world... and destroyed the cities... the Minish descended from the Heavens/sky and gave a Hero the Sword." OE: "Long, long ago, terrible evil spirits appeared in the world. They burnt our city to the ground. At the same time, the Picori arrived, bestowing a magical Sword to a Great Hero."

Link: „Und dieser Held vertrieb die Monster mit dem Schwert." DT/EQ: „"And this Hero ejected the monsters with the Sword." OE: "Using the Sword, the Hero drove the evil spirits away... or something."

Prinzessin Zelda: „Genau, Link. Seitdem feiern wir jährlich ein Fest... ...als Dankeschön an die Minish." DT: „Exactly, Link. Since-then celebrate we yearly a Festival... as thank-you to the Minish." EQ: "Exactly, Link. Since then, we celebrate a Festival yearly... as a thank-you to the Minish." OE: "Yes, that's it. So every year we have a Festival... ...To thank the Picori for coming at our time of need."

Link: "Das ist doch nur eine Legende..." DT/EQ: „"That is still only a legend..." OE: "You really believe the legend?"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Oh, du glaubst nicht daran? Die Minish gibt es wirklich. Vater behauptet das auch immer. Sie öffnen ein Mal in hundert Jahren das Tor zu unserer Welt und kommon zu uns." DT: „Oh, you believe not that in? The Minish are (x) real. Father claims that also always. They open one time in hundred years the Gate to our world and come to us." EQ: "Oh, you still don't believe that? The Minish are real. Father always claims that, too. Every hundred years, they open the Gate to our world and come to us." OE: "You mean you DON'T? My father told me the Picori really DO exist. He said they come out when the Door to the Picori World opens once every hundred years."

Prinzessin Zelda: „Und dieses Jahr ist es wieder so weit!" DT: „And this year is it again so far!" EQ: "And this year, it's happening again!" OE: "And this is the one-hundredth year!" (NOTE: Could also be, "And this year, the time has come again!")

ANNOUNCER: „Nr. 28, Vaati! Nr. 57, Max!!" DT: „Nr. 28, Vaati! Nr. 57, Max!!" EQ: "No. 28, Vaati! Nr. 57, Max!!" OE: "Next up, the mysterious Vaati... ...Versus big bad Max!" (NOTE: Max kept his name as well... And because I'm insane, I can tell you that in goroawase, "57" is "Kon'nan"/Like this" and "28" means "Fiibaa"/"Fever"... What signifigance this holds, I don't know. Also, why English removed the numbers... Ich hab' keine Ahnung.)

???: „Wah! Wah! Wah!" DT/EQ: „"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" OE: "YAAY CHEER ROAR" (NOTE: I give up. The crowd is Robert Plant.)

Link: "! Oh, er?!" DT/EQ: „"! Oh, him?!" OE: "! It's him!"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Du kennst ihn?" DT/EQ: „"You know him?" OE: "You know that guy?"

Max: „En Garde!!" DT/EQ: „"En Garde!!" OE: "There's the bell!" (NOTE: English Max... Isn't the one talking???)

Toneffekte: „KAWOMM!" DT/EQ: „"KABOOM!" OE: ZWARRKK"

Max: „Bäh!" DT/EQ: „"BAH!" OE: "GAH!" (NOTE: ...Humbug.)

Link: „!!" DT/EQ: „"!!" OE: "!"

Erzähler: „Der junge Mann in der lila Robe hat seine überwältigende Stärke gezeigt. Deshalb war er der eindeutige Sieger." DT: „The young man in the purple robes (x) his overwhelming strength shown. Therefore was he the definite victor." EQ: "The young man in the purple robes showed his overwhelming strength. Therefore, he was the definite victor." OE: "The man in the purple robe showed overwhelming power... And quickly took the Championship."

???: „Wah! Wah!" DT/EQ: „"Whoa! Whoa!" OE: "YAAY HURRAY"

Alberich: „Wer mag das sein?" DT/EQ: „"Who might that be?" OE: "I wonder who that guy is."

Link: „Oh, Opa! Du auch hier?" DT: „Oh, Grandpa! You also here?" EQ: "Oh, Grandpa! You're also here?" OE: "Grandpa! When'd you get here?"

???: „Waah!" DT/EQ: „"Whoa!" OE: "YAAY"

Alberich: „Ich bin hier, um das Schwert für den Sieger zu bringen." DT: „I am here, in order the Sword for the victor to bring." EQ: "I am here in order to bring the Sword for the victor." OE: "I came to deliver the Sword that goes to the Champion."

Erzähler: „Opa Alberich ist der beste Schmied in Hyrule." DT/EQ: „"Grandpa Alberich is the best Blacksmith in Hyrule." OE: "Grandfather Smith is the best weaponsmith in Hyrule."

Alberich: „Das ist das Heilige Schwert der Minish." DT/EQ: „"That is the Holy Sword (of) the Minish." OE: "And to see the Sacred Sword handed down by the Picori."

Link: „Was? Ist das echt?" DT/EQ: „"What? Is that real/genuine?" OE: "What? The REAL thing?!"

Alberich: „Laut der Legende versiegelt es Hunderte von Monstern in dieser Truhe." DT: „According (to) the legends seals it hundreds of Monsters in this Chest." EQ: "According to the legends, it seals hundreds of Monsters in this Chest." OE: "According to legend, the evil spirits are in that Chest, trapped there by the Sword's power."

Minister Friedrich: „Nun beginnen wir mit der Siegerehrung." DT: „Now begin we with the Awards-Ceremony." EQ: "Now we begin with the Awards-Ceremony." OE: "Now let us begin the Award Ceremony." (NOTE: Minister Friedrich/Potho kept his name.)

Minister Friedrich: „Der Sieger Vaati möge hervortreten!" DT: „The victor Vaati may forth-step!" EQ: "The victor, Vaati, may step forth!" OE: "Champion Vaati, step forward!"

König Dartus: „Vaati, dein Sieg wird in die Geschichte des Minish-Festes eingehen. Nimm dieses Schwert." DT: „Vaati, your victory will in the history (of) the Minish-Festival down-go. Take this Sword." EQ: "Vaati, your victory will go down in the history of the Minish-Festival. Take this Sword." OE: "Vaati, please accept this fine Sword and know that your name will be inscribed... ...In the annals of our Festival!" (NOTE: König/King Dartus/Daltus. Same thing. Just wait until we get to a certain pair of Minish twins...)

Vaati: „Ich danke Euch..." DT/EQ: „"I thank you..." OE: "Thanks for the Sword, but..."

Vaati: „...dass das alles so gut klappt!" DT: „...that/because that all so well worked-out!" EQ: "...because everything worked out so well!" OE: "...What I REALLY want is in that Chest!"

Vaati: „Das Heilige Schwert der Minish und die versiegelte Kiste wurden zur Siegerehrung vorgeführt." DT: „The Holy Sword (of) the Minish and the sealed Chest were to (the) Award-Ceremony presented." EQ: "The Holy Sword of the Minish and the sealed Chest were only ever presented at the Award-Ceremony." OE: "And since the Sacred Sword of the Picori and the Bound Chest are only ever seen at this annual Awards Ceremony..."

Vaati: „Lange habe ich diesen Moment herbeigesehnt!" DT: „Long have I this moment yearned-for!" EQ: "I have long yearned for this moment!" OE: "...Winning your stupid Tournament was my only chance!" (NOTE: Or another equally-heartbreaking translation could be, "I have longed for this moment!")

Hofstaat: „Was?! Ein Schurke!!" DT/EQ: „"What?! A villain!!" OE: "What?! Don't cause any trouble, son!" (NOTE: Probably unintentional... But „Schurke" can also mean "knave"... Which is what one of the Fates in "Cadence of Hyrule" calls Octavo... Huh...)

Hofstaat: „Aaargl!!" DT/EQ: „"Aaarghh!!" OE: "AAARGH!"

Toneffekte: „ZABAMM! KARACK!" DT/EQ: „"KABAMM! KRRACK!" OE: "ZWARRKK KRAKK"

Link: „Das Schwert!" DT/EQ: „"The Sword!" OE: "The Sword!!"

Monster: „GRÄÄÄÄÄÄH!" DT/EQ: „"GROOOOOOWL!" OE: "HOOWWWL"

Person: "Iieeek! Lauft weg!!" DT/EQ: „"Eeeeek! Run away!!" OE: "Eeeek! Run!"

Alberich: „Link?!" DT/EQ: „"Link?!" OE: "Link?!"

Monster: „Urks!" DT/EQ: „"Ack!" OE: "Eek!"

Toneffekte: „BUZZZ!" DT/EQ: „"BUZZZ!" OE: "WHAAM"

Vaati: "!" DT/EQ: „"!" OE: "!"

Prinzessin Zelda: „Wer bist du?! Was sollte das werden?!" DT: „Who are you?! What should that be?!" EQ: "Who are you?! What was that supposed to be?!" OE: "Who ARE you? WHY have you done this?" (NOTE: Oh, look... Hello, idioms, my old friend...)

Vaati: „Oh oh... Das ist wohl die magische Kraft der Hyrule-Prinzessin...?" DT: „Oh oh... This is surely the magical power (of) the Hyrule-Princess...?" EQ: "Oh oh... This is surely the magical power of Hyrule's Princess...?" OE: "Well, well... Now we see the mysterious power of the Princess of Hyrule!"

Vaati: „Wenn ich dich jetzt verschone, wirst du mir später nur im Weg sein..." DT: „If I you now spare, will you (for) me later only in (the) way be..." EQ: "If I spare you now, you will only be in my way later..." OE: "If I don't take care of you now, you'll cause me no end of grief later!"

Link: „STOPP!!" DT/EQ: „"STOP!!" OE: "STOP!"

Toneffekte: „ZAMM!" DT/EQ: „"BAMM!" OE: "SLIIIDE"

Vaati: „Der Junge aus dem Wald... Willst du etwas den Helden spielen? Hi hi!" DT: „The boy from the Forest... Want you something the Hero play? Hi hi!" EQ: "The boy from the Forest... Do you want to play Hero? Hi hi!" OE: "Well, if it isn't that little boy I met in the forest. Are you pretending to be a knight? Heh heh"

Link: „Lass die Prinzessin in Ruhe!" DT: „Let the Princess in peace!" EQ: "Leave the Princess alone!" OE: "I won't let you touch Zelda!"

Toneffekte: „BUZZZ" DT/EQ: „"BUZZZ" OE: "KZARK" (NOTE: DENIED.)

Link: „AAAAH!!" DT/EQ: „"AAAH!!" OE: "AAARGH!!"

Toneffekte: „ZIIIPP" DT/EQ: „"ZIIIPP" OE: "SHING"

Vaati: „Seht her! Dies ist der Fluch des Hexenmeisters!! Ha ha ha ha... So..." DT/EQ: „"See here! This is the curse of the sorcerer! Ha ha ha ha... So..." OE: "See that?! BEHOLD the curse of a Mage! Ha ha ha ha! Now..." (NOTE: ...English, you're not even trying to hide the "sorcerer" thing...)

Vaati: „!! Leer?! Was zum...?! Die Truhe hat nur die Monster versiegelt?" DT: „!! Empty?! What the...?! The Chest (x) only the Monsters sealed?" EQ: "!! Empty?! What the...?! The Chest only sealed the Monsters?" OE: "What?! It's EMPTY! It really WASN'T sealing anything but spirits?!"

Vaati: „Na, auch gut. Ich weiß, dass sich das Force in Hyrule befindet. Ich werde in Ruhe danach suchen... He he he he..." DT: „Well, also good. I know, that itself the Force in Hyrule located. I will in peace then search... He he he he..." EQ: "Very well then. I know that the Force itself is located in Hyrule. I will search in peace, then... He he he he..." OE: "But I know the Light Force is in Hyrule somewhere! I guess I'll just... ...Have to keep looking for it. Heh heh heh."

Link: „Uhm... Autsch. Zel... da... bist du...?!" DT/EQ: „"Um... Ouch. Zel... da... are you...?!" OE: "Ungh. Owww. Z... Zelda, are you all right?"

Link: „Zelda?! Sie ist versteinert!!" DT/EQ: „"Zelda?! She is petrified!!" OE: "Zelda?! Sh-She's been turned to STONE!"

König Dartus: „Zelda!! Wie konnte dass nur passieren...?" DT: „Zelda!! How could this only happen...?" EQ: "Zelda!! How could this have happened...?" OE: "Zelda! How could this happen?!"

Minister Friedrich: „Wie shrecklich..." DT/EQ: „"How dreadful..." OE: "Return to normal!"

Toneffekte: „Wuäh wuäh wuäh" DT/EQ: „"Wah wah wah" OE: "Boo hoo hoo hoo"

Minister Friedrich: „Eure Majestät! Wie kann sie geheilt werden?!" DT: „Your Majesty! How can she healed be?!" EQ: "Your Majesty! How can she be healed?!" OE: "Your Majesty, is there no way to bring the Princess back?!"

König Dartus: „Der Fluch ist mit der heiligen Macht des Schwertes der Minish zu brechen..." DT: „The curse is with the holy might (of) the Sword (of) the Minish to break..." EQ: "The curse is to be broken with the holy might of the Sword of the Minish..." OE: "The Sacred Sword... The Picori Blade has the power to remove a Mage's curse." (NOTE: *slams drink for every usage of "Mage"*)

König Dartus: „Aber Vaati hat das Schwert zerstört. Doch die Minish sind in der Lage, das Schwert zu reparieren." DT: „But Vaati (x) the Sword destroyed. Still the Minish are in the position, the Sword to repair." EQ: "But Vaati destroyed the Sword. Still, the Minish are in the position to repair the Sword." OE: "Unfortunately, Vaati broke that, too! And only the Picori can restore it."

Alberich: „Minish? Ihr meint... das Minish-Volk aus der Legende?" DT/EQ: „"Minish? You mean... the Minish-people from the legends?" OE: "The Picori?! But the Picori are only a legend..."

König Dartus: „Minish existieren wirklich. Dieses Geheimnis hütet die Königsfamilie... Die Minish leben im Tyloria-Wald." DT: „Minish exist really. This secret treasured the Royal-family... The Minish live in Tyloria-Forest." EQ: "Minish really exist. This secret was treasured by the Royal Family... The Minish live in Tyloria-Forest." OE: "The Picori race really DOES exist. It's a secret known only to the Royal Family. They live in the Minish Woods."

Minister Friedrich: „Wir senden nun die Soldaten aus!" DT: „We send only the Soldiers out!" EQ: "We'll send out the Soldiers!" OE: "Then let's send Soldiers there!"

König Dartus: „Nein... Keine Soldaten!" DT/EQ: „"No... No Soldiers!" OE: "Alas... ...We can't."

Minister Friedrich: „Warum das denn?" DT: „Why that then?" EQ: "Why is that?" OE: "Why not?!"

König Dartus: „Erwachsene können die Minish nicht sehen. Deshalb werden die Soldaten sie nie finden." DT: „Adults can the Minish not see. Therefore will the Soldiers them never find." EQ: "Adults cannot see the Minish. Therefore, the Soldiers will never find them." OE: "Adults cannot see the Picori. The Soldiers would never dind them."

Minister Friedrich: „Hmmm..." DT/EQ: „"Hmmm..." OE: "Drat!"

Link: „Ich gehe! Lasst mich das machen, Eure Majestät!!" DT: „I go! Let me this do, Your Majesty!!" EQ: "I'll go! Let me do this, Your Majesty!!" OE: "Your Majesty, send me! I'll go to the Minish Woods and find the Picori!"

Alberich: „Link! Untersteh dich..." DT: „Link! Submit yourself..." EQ: "Link! Don't you dare..." OE: "Link! Don't be so impudent!" (NOTE: Okay, this is one huge idiom... An old-fashioned one, at that.)

König Dartus: „Schon gut, Alberich." DT: „Already good, Alberich." EQ: "It's okay, Alberich." OE: "Master Weaponsmith, wait...!" (NOTE: *gives up on the Viz English version*)

König Dartus: „Link ist Zeldas Sandkastenfreund. Ich bitte dich, Link... Zeige das zerbrochene Schwert den Minish im Wald. Und lerne, wie man es repariert." DT: „Link is Zelda's childhood-friend. I beg you, Link... Show the broken Sword (to) the Minish in (the) Forest. And learn, how one it repairs." EQ: "Link is Zelda's childhood friend. I beg of you, Link... Show the broken Sword to the Minish in the Forest. And learn how one repairs it." OE: "It seems only right for Link to take on this quest since... ...He and the Princess are friends. Take the Sword to the Minish Woods, Link. Ask the Picori how to reforge it."

Link: „Jawohl!" DT/EQ: „"Yessir!" OE: "Yes, Your Majesty!"

Alberich: „Warte, Link! Auf dem Weg lauern sicher Gefahren. Nimm dies hier mit." DT: „Wait, Link! Of the way lurk itself dangers. Take this here with." EQ: "Wait, Link! Dangers lurk along the way. Take this along." OE: "Wait, Link! The road you travel will be dangerous. Take this." (NOTE: IT'S DANGEROUS TO GO ALONE, TAKE THIS.)

Alberich: „Das beste Stück, das ich je gemacht habe. Gib dir Mühe für die Prinzessin!!" DT: „The best piece, that I ever made (x). Give your effort for the Princess!!" EQ: "The best Piece that I ever made. Give your all for the Princess!!" OE: "I put my heart and soul into this blade. Use it to save the Princess!"

Link: „Ein Schwert! Es ist echt! Tausend Dank, Opa!!" DT/EQ: „"A Sword! It is real! Thousand thanks, Grandpa!!" OE: "A Sword! A REAL Sword! Thank you, Grandfather!"

Link: „Nie werde ich Vaati verzeihen! Warte auf mich, Zelda. Ich werde dich von diesem Fluch befreien!" DT: „Never will I Vaati forgive! Wait for me, Zelda. I will you from this curse free!" EQ: "I'll never forgive Vaati! Wait for me, Zelda. I'll free you from this curse!" OE: "I'll bring you back, Zelda! I promise! I'll make Vaati PAY for doing this to you!"

Hofstaat: „Eure Majestät! Überall in Hyrule tauchen Monster auf!" DT: „Your Majesty! Overall in Hyrule emerging Monsters (x)!" EQ: "Your Majesty! Monsters are emerging all over in Hyrule!" OE: "I bring news, m'lord! Evil spirits are attacking all over!" (NOTE: „auftauchen").

Alberich: „Was?!" DT/EQ: „"What?!" OE: "What?!"

König Dartus: „Vaati hat sie gerade entfesselt... Die Soldaten übernehmen die Monster. Du gehst zum Tyloria-Wald! Nimm diese Karte von Hyrule." DT: „Vaati (x) them just released... The Soldiers take-on the Monsters. You go to (the) Tyloria-Forest! Take this Map of Hyrule." EQ: "Vaati just released them... The Soldiers will take on the Monsters. You go to Tyloria-Forest! Take this Map of Hyrule." OE: "When the Sword broke, Vaati also released the spirits! The Castle Guards will have to drive away the evil spirits. Link, here is a Map of Hyrule. Waste not a moment. Go to the Minish Woods!"

Link: „Das ist also der Tyloria-Wald... Wo finde ich bloß die Minish?" DT: „This is so the Tyloria-Forest... Where find I just the Minish?" EQ: "So, this is Tyloria-Forest... Just where do I find the Minish?" OE: "Is THIS the Minish Woods? I wonder where the Picori are?"

Link: „Heeey!! Minish, kommt raus! Minish? Huhu, Minish!!" DT/EQ: „"Heeey!! Minish, come out! Minish? Yoo-hoo, Minish!!" OE: "Hellloooo! C'mon out, Picori! We need you! Picori? Where the heck are you?!" (NOTE: ...It literally never occurred to me until just now that the reason the Minish never came out is because they don't understand him...)

Link: „Es ist doch das hundertste Jahr, in dem sich das Tor öffnet! Ich dachte, Kinder können die Minish sehen?!" DT: „It is still the hundredth year, in the/which itself the Gate opens! I think, children can the Minish see?!" EQ: "It's still the hundredth year in which the Gate opens! I thought children could see the Minish?!" OE: "Is this NOT the one-hundredth year, when the Door to the Picori World opens?! Maybe it's just not true that kids can see the Picori?!"

Toneffekte: „Keuch japs japs" DT/EQ: „"Wheeze gasp gasp" OE: "Wheeeze puff huff"

Link: „UH Moment... Ich hab ja nie an Minish geglaubt..." DT: „UH Moment... I (x) indeed never in Minish believed..." EQ: "UH Wait a moment... I really never believed in Minish..." OE: "GASP Or Maybe... ...I can't see Picori because I NEVER believed in them?"

Link: „Vielleicht bin ich daher nicht mehr unschuldig... Und kann die Minish deshalb gar nicht sehen?!" DT: „Maybe am I hence not more innocent... And can the Minish therefore at all not see?!" EQ: "Maybe I'm not innocent anymore... And therefore can't see the Minish at all?!" OE: "I'm young, but my innocence is GONE! That MUST be it! Even though I'm a kid, I CAN'T see them! Not with THESE jaded eyes!"

Toneffekte: „Entsetzen!" DT/EQ: „"Dismay!" OE: "Oh noooooo!"

Link: „Was mach ich bloß...? Ich kann nichts tun, solange ich die Minish nicht finde..." DT: „What do I just...? I can nothing do, as-long I the Minish not find..." EQ: "Just what do I do...? I can't do anything as long as I don't find the Minish..." OE: "What should I do? If I don't find the Picori, Princess Zelda is doomed!"

Toneffekte: „Hach..." DT/EQ: „"Haa..." OE: "SLUMP" (NOTE: As far as I can tell, this is a sigh.)

Link: „?" DT/EQ: „"?" OE: "?"

Toneffekte: „Wisch" DT/EQ: „"Wipe" OE: "Rub rub"

Link: „Äh... Ich sehe da was Komisches..." DT: „Ah... I see there what comical..." EQ: "Ah... I'm seeing something comical there..." OE: "Hmmm... ...That looks a little weird!"

Ezelo: „Au! Autsch!" DT/EQ: „"Ow! Ouch!" OE: "Quit it! Ow! That hurts!"

Toneffekte: „Batsch! Batsch!" DT/EQ: „"Bash! Bash!" OE: "WHACK SMACK"

Ezelo: „He! Zu Hilfe!" DT: „Hey! To help!" EQ: "Hey! Help me!" OE: "Hey, someone... Anyone... HELLLLP!"

[enragedbees]

Does He Make You Happy?

Updates Saturdays 6pm EST!

Pairing: Logicality, side Prinxiety

Summary: Logan thinks back to a happy memory with Patton. Logan has a revelation.

Warnings: mild anxiety, swearing (Im pretty sure it was just the one time) (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Words: 2173

Song rec: Fast Car by Tracy Chapman

A huge thanks to the marvelous @thenewlarislynn for being my beta reader!!

Taglist: @xxpeach-bobaxx @starwarsdestroyedme ​  @faded-paper-colours @nafsbluebery @cass-isdumb  @fall-sunflowers @darkstrange-son @xionbean

I love reading your comments! Please let me know what you think! :)

First Previous Next

——————————————-

Chapter 4: A Feeling That I Belonged

        “Are you nervous?”

        Logan squeezed the hand laced in his. “Nope.” He looked straight ahead, unsuccessfully concealing a waver in his voice.

        Patton smiled and squeezed back. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, you know.”

        “I know.”

        Logan watched Patton take a breath next to him. The sun had gone down, the night wind blew straight through his jacket. The light above them bathed the porch in soft gold, illuminating the faded bricks of the house.

        Patton inhaled. “You ready?”

        Logan’s stomach twisted. “Yeah.” He turned to Patton. “Are you?”

        Patton smiled softly. He rubbed his thumb over Logan’s forefinger. “No, I don’t think so. Not yet.”

        The corners of Logan’s mouth turned up. He took a deep breath, hearing Virgil’s voice in his head. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Four, seven, eight. Four, seven, eight.

        Logan turned back to Patton and nodded. Patton reached out and opened the front door, leading Logan in behind him.

        As they walked through the foyer straight into the kitchen, Logan breathed in the smell of garlic and frying plantains. Patton never let go of his hand, and Logan already felt more at ease.

        A tall man stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes while a woman cooked at the stove. Logan was astonished at how much she looked like Patton. She turned and broke into a smile.

        “Hey, Mami.” Patton grinned and stepped towards her, enveloping her in a hug.

        “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Rojas,” Logan said, smiling politely.

        “Oh please, no need for formalities.” She reached out and hugged him as well, to Logan’s surprise. “It’s Mia and Diego.”

        Diego shook his hand, beaming. “Logan, right?”

        Logan nodded. “Pleased to meet you.”

        The conversation continued with polite small talk, and Logan started to relax. He knew he was good with people, he knew it was illogical to be nervous about meeting Patton’s parents. And when he found himself starting to panic, Patton always seemed to notice and calmed him down by grabbing his hand or laying a palm on his arm.

        They sat down to eat, and Logan could feel all three sets of eyes inconspicuously on him. He knew they were attempting to secretly gauge his reaction to the food. Luckily, he didn’t have to pretend to enjoy it. Logan expressed his admiration and gratitude and the Rojases glanced at each other, concealing a smile.

        Somehow, as it always seemed to do, Logan found the conversation shifting to the topic that never ceased to come up.

        Patton mentioned, in passing, being thankful for the support his parents had given him, and Logan by proxy. And suddenly, Logan was once again talking about his past.

        “What about your parents, Logan?” asked Mia. “I hope you were given the support you needed.”

        Logan nodded. “My mother was always very supportive.”

        Diego raised his eyebrow. “Not your father?”

        Patton jumped in. “Papi, I don’t think -”

Logan slid his hand into Patton’s under the table and squeezed. It’s okay. It would have come out naturally at some point anyway.

        “I came out to my parents when I was twelve,” Logan said. “My mom was the religious one, so I assumed my father would have a better reaction. He didn’t. He probably would have kicked me out, but my mom wouldn’t let him. So he left.”

        The Rojases nodded. Patton rubbed his thumb over Logan’s finger and glanced over, eyes full of concern and support.

        “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” said Mia. Logan appreciated the lack of pity they gave him. The aw, you poor baby routine was grating. Logan always felt invalidated, as if since it was fresh information for everyone else, he was supposed to let everyone else get comfortable before he was allowed to be over it. Yes, something unpleasant had happened to Logan. But he lived, and he had grown up. And that was what he found valuable.

        “I hope you know that you’ll always have a place here, Logan.” Diego offered a warm smile, and Mia nodded. Logan couldn’t help the corners of his mouth going up as well, and Patton squeezed his hand.

        “They liked you,” Patton said that night, smiling and climbing into bed beside Logan.

        Logan sighed, and set down the book he had been trying to focus on for a few minutes. “Are you sure?”

        “Of course!” Patton laughed. “My parents don’t have high standards for me. You clearly liked my mother’s mofongo, which is pretty much where the bar is for being welcomed into the family.” He leaned on his elbow and looked at Logan earnestly.

        Logan rolled to face him. “I just don’t know what I’d do if they didn’t like me.”

        Patton shook his head in amusement. “You’re adorable.” He took off his glasses and set them on the bedside table. Logan turned off the lamp on his side and lifted his arms so Patton could cuddle against his chest like he liked to. They stayed like that, quiet, intimate, and Logan focused on Patton’s breathing until it evened out.

        “How can you be sure they liked me?” Logan whispered, thinking Patton had drifted off.

        To Logan’s surprise, Patton pulled him closer. “I promise, I just can.”

        Logan looked down and met Patton’s eyes. “But how?”

        Patton sighed sadly. “Because you’re you. They know you love me. They know I love you. They trust me to pick someone who’ll be good for me. And besides, you were the perfect boyfriend tonight. Every parent’s dream suitor.”

        Logan smiled. Patton reached up and laid his hand on Logan’s cheek. “But it wouldn’t matter if they didn’t like you. It wouldn’t influence me. I love you. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

        Logan’s chest squeezed. “I love you, too.”

        “I know.” Patton smiled. Logan pulled him back into his arms and Patton nuzzled his head under Logan’s chin. Logan pressed a kiss to the top of Patton’s head and let himself sleep peacefully.

 ~

        Patton was getting married at the end of June.

        The month before was hectic. It seemed like every day was slipping away uncontrollably, but Logan also couldn’t get past it fast enough.

        He tried to make time for his friends, but they were always busy with preparations. Besides, Logan knew he owed it to Virgil to maintain a friendship, but he had only met Roman through Patton, and he couldn’t imagine many people stayed close with their ex’s friends post-breakup. Though he assumed most people didn’t go to their ex’s weddings either. Not that he would know any of it for sure.

        And he didn’t want to dig anything up with Patton. Nothing good could come from spending prolonged periods of time with him.

        Patton had clearly shown the extent of his feelings towards Logan after leaving him a drunken voicemail the night of his bachelor party, thanking Logan for being such a wonderful and understanding friend. Logan pretended he never heard the message when Patton texted him the next morning, mortified and apologetic.

        But when Virgil actively sought him out for lunch, Logan ensured he was available. It couldn’t hurt to spend time with his friend. Except Virgil’s phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.

        After the first few messages, Virgil sighed and picked it up. “I’m sorry, Logan. I’m emceeing the reception, and now that some people have found that out, they keep sending me song requests.”

        Logan pressed his lips together. Everyone was constantly talking about the wedding. He couldn’t go a day without being reminded. And every day he grew more frustrated.

Virgil rapidly typed something out, pressed send, then turned his phone upside down on the table. “There, it’s on silent now. It won’t happen again.”

        But it did. Virgil mentioned the wedding seven more times throughout the day. The rest of his friends talked about it non-stop. As the date crawled closer and closer, Logan felt it suffocating him more and more, and it became completely unavoidable. He almost believed everyone was trying to rub his face in the event.

        A few days before the wedding, it finally hit Logan. He wanted this wedding. He never thought he would want an extravagant celebration, he didn’t think he wanted the stress of so many people and so many things to plan. But Logan desperately wanted everything he had watched Virgil and Roman and Patton run around trying to plan over the last month. After realizing that, everything else came in rapid succession.

        Patton was moving upstate. He wouldn’t be going far, but it was still away from the family and city he loved so dearly.

        Logan had a stable job that he loved, that he wanted to keep working. He didn’t want to travel around so much and lose it.

        Patton didn’t think he could adopt a pet. He didn’t have the time or the space for an animal he really wanted, and especially not if he would have to commute to work more often.

        Logan worked steady hours every day and had weekends off, a schedule he never imagined having, let alone enjoying.

        Each acknowledgement washed over him, one after the other. All at once, the air was forced out of his lungs as he finally realized.

        They would have been fine.

The reason Logan had left, the justification he had to remind himself of for years was crumbling. There was no need. They would have worked it out and Logan wouldn’t have had to watch Patton spend his life with someone else.

They were happy. Logan was happy. He had told himself for years that leaving was for the best. They would both be able to live the lives they wanted. They would be happier.

        Patton would be happier.

        That’s all Logan really cared about, he decided. He was terrified he wasn’t enough for Patton. He knew that if Patton gave up his future to be with Logan, he would always feel responsible for ruining his life. He knew Patton would resent him.

        But Patton had plead with him, tears streaming down his face, arms wrapped around himself to try to physically hold back his heartbreak. “Logan, you make me happy! Why won’t you believe I would give all that up to be with you?” And Logan found himself asking the same thing. Why couldn’t he believe Patton? Why couldn’t he believe he was enough?

        Patton was happy now. That was what was important. He had fallen in love again. He found someone who wanted the same things as him. Patton was going to get married and have his happily ever after and get everything he deserved.

        This is your fault, Logan told himself, gritting his teeth. This is what you deserve. You fucked up, these are the consequences. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?

        And yet, as much as he tried, Logan couldn’t stop thinking about Patton. Everything reminded him of when they were together. Every time he saw Patton, he ached to be the one on the other side of his hand. He kept dreaming of finally, once again, being Patton’s, only to wake up every morning with a gaping hole in his chest and the feel of his fingers running through Patton’s hair. He thought he would go insane.

        Logan wanted to tell him.

        He knew he would regret it. He knew it would almost certainly make the situation way more painful and complicated than it needed to be. He knew he would accomplish nothing but widen the rift between himself and Patton.

        But Logan also knew that if reconciliation was anywhere near a possibility, it would be his only chance to achieve that.

        Logan deliberated over it for days until he couldn’t take it anymore. Two nights before the wedding, he took a deep breath and made his decision. It’s now or never.

        Logan took a walk downtown. He knew exactly where Patton would be. He took the longest route he could think of.

        Patton sat at a bench on the patio section of a restaurant that had closed for the night. Approaching from the side, Logan watched him watch the sleepy life of this secluded section of the city. A few stores were open, a few people wandered past here and there, but Patton had complete privacy from where he sat, content and full of love for everything and everyone around him. Logan took a deep breath and walked into his field of vision.

        Patton turned to him and smiled. “Hey, what are you doing out here?”

        “Just talking a walk. I wanted the fresh air.” Logan walked over and stood next to the bench. “Anything interesting happen yet?”

        Patton nodded, grinning. “Two doves flew up into that tree, and the owner of the restaurant across the street looked really happy when he closed. The night’s not over yet, though.”

        Logan nodded back, a lump in his throat. He swallowed, and looked back down at Patton, who met his gaze, eyes full of wonder. Logan took another deep breath. Before he could change his mind, Logan jumped.

        “Can we talk?”

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 3

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Malcolm didn’t get a second of sleep that night.  After more than an hour tossing and turning in bed, mind racing, he reluctantly reached for his tablet and glasses, turning on the bedside lamp.

A simple Google search turned up hundreds of thousands of articles on inheritance, but none seemed to offer any solutions to receiving the inheritance without meeting the stipulations of the will.  He was an old man, perhaps he was going senile?  Why would he do this?

He shot off an email to the will executor and solicitor, asking Is it possible he was not in sound mind?  Is there a previous version of the will that doesn’t include this marriage requirement?

It was likely a vain hope, but he had to try.  Resolving to forget about the marriage idea for the moment, he turned his attention to finding a job posting board.  After a few false starts he tried charity administrator openings London, and with a sigh, began reading through the first posting.

No matter what happens, this is going to suck.  Thanks a lot, Uncle Wally.

-

Friday

By the time his alarm went off he was dressed and ready to go, texting Graham to cancel his morning pickup and deciding to take the Underground instead.  Pausing just outside the gate and staring up at the townhouse, he realized with a jolt, Everything I have is tied up in the Estate.  If I lose this inheritance, I lose everything.

At twenty-seven he’d fled Glasgow before the ink on his divorce papers was dry, bringing Clara to London for a fresh start.  His uncle had been kind enough to give him a job working for The Thistle Foundation in the mailroom, and he spent most of the next decade working his way up and earning his keep until Wallace decided to retire, leaving Malcolm in charge.  The townhouse went with the Estate, having been owned by the family since shortly after it was built, and he didn’t so much draw a salary from the Foundation as receive a stipend from his uncle.

I’m fifty years old and have almost nothing to my name.

It had always been a given that he would inherit; Wallace had never had children, his only sibling Malcolm’s father, and Malcolm was in effect an only child, his brother having died decades ago.  He’d never had to worry about assets, had few personal expenses.  To lose the Estate would cost him everything.

Fuck.  Fuck fuck fuck.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost missed his stop, barely making it through the doors onto the platform before they closed.  Coming up to street-level he looked around, catching sight of the little shop Rose usually got their morning coffees from, only recognizing it by the familiar logo.

Stepping inside, it wasn’t until he was facing the cashier he realized he had no idea what Rose usually ordered.  “Erm, hi.  I don’t do this, my assistant is usually in here – pretty, blonde, big smile, name of Rose?  D’you-”

“Oh, you must be Malcolm!” the girl, Amy, gushed, eyes lighting up.  “Of course we know Rose, she’s in here everyday!  Oi, Mel, Rose’s regular order, stat!”  She turned back to him, finding him blinking at her in surprise.  “Always nice to meet a fellow Scot.  Rose is great, isn’t she?”

“The absolute best,” he agreed proudly, unsurprised but touched by the impression she obviously left everywhere she went.  That’s my gi- that’s Rose.  “I’d be hopelessly lost without her.”

“Too right.  Anyway, here we are, that’s ten quid,” she passed over two large takeaway cups of coffee and a pastry bag.

Right.  Feeling like a moron, entirely out of sorts after first the previous day’s bombshell and then no sleep, he dug out a twenty-pound note and thrust it across the space.  “Keep the change.  Thanks.”

Picking up the order he made his way to the door, more focused on the drinks than where he was walking, elbowing open the door and slamming right into someone entering.  “Shit!”  He barely managed to keep hold of everything, coffee sloshing dangerously but only spilling a little, and he looked up to give the person a piece of his mind only to stop dead in surprise.  “Oh, fuck me.”

Rose arched one eyebrow in response, a smile flickering over her lips.  “I’d rather not get banned from here, if it’s all the same to you, ta.” She plucked one of the cups from his hand, lifting it to her nose before taking a large gulp.  “What’re you doing here?”

Stepping out onto the sidewalk they started down the street towards their building, falling naturally into sync.

“I couldn’t sleep, thought I’d come in early.  I saw the place, and…” he trailed off, shrugging one shoulder.  “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she echoed, rolling her eyes.  “Clara stopped by, talked my ear off until half two.  Decided to just get a move on.”

The silence was awkward, which only served to annoy him; they had always had a good rapport, after the first six or so months once she had settled into her role.  Now, eight years later he considered their partnership to be a well-oiled machine, two halves of a whole despite the on-paper power imbalance.

He held the door for her as they entered their building, nodding to the security guards as they buzzed through.  Rose hit the button on the lift for their floor, and they rode up alone.

Malcolm followed her to her desk, watching as she flicked on the lights and shrugged off her coat, vaguely curious to her routine; she typically arrived only a few minutes before him- long enough to be settled and ready to face the day, but recent enough that his coffee was always hot and fresh.

“Oh!” she yelped, turning around to see him leaning on the corner of her desk, watching her.  “D’you need something?  My computer’s still booting up.”

The words hovered on the tip of his tongue, before he sighed, shoulders slumping.  “No, I’m good.  Just- oh, you know what you’re doing.  I’ll be in my office.”  Extracting his muffin from the pastry bag he slunk into his office, falling into his desk chair and turning to gaze listlessly out the window.

What am I supposed to do?

-

It was, quite frankly, the worst day of Rose’s professional career.  Things got done, most of her duties able to be completed on autopilot after so long, but she could muster no spark to put into any of it.  No banter. None of her signature Rose Tyler charm.

Her computer dinged and she glanced up from where she was poking at her salad halfheartedly to groan.  “Oh, you’ve got to be motherfucking shitting me.”

“Rose Tyler!”  Malcolm’s delighted voice made her jump and yelp, “I’m so proud of you.  That was almost a proper swear.”

“Missy’s on her way up,” she didn’t even look at him, clicking on the IM box from Mickey, the building’s security guard and one of her oldest friends.  It was just an emoji, two wide eyes, but it was their code.  “What do you want me to do?”

He sighed heavily.  “Fine, I’ll see her.  I swear, she must have my office bugged or something.”

The lift dinged, and she raised her eyes to glance at him.  He looks like he’s having as rough a day as I am.  He’d said he hadn’t slept; had it been for the same reason she hadn’t?  No, he was probably thinking about the gala.  Of course it was about that, dingbat.  “I’ll send her in.”

“Thanks.”

He disappeared back into his office as Missy walked in, and Rose had to bite her lip hard to keep from laughing or rolling her eyes.  What did he ever see in her?  Missy Tucker was without comparison the most extravagant, eccentric person she’d ever met, and that included all of her mother’s rich society ‘friends’.

“Good afternoon, welcome to The Thistle Foundation, do you have an appointment?” Rose asked sweetly, as the older woman approached her desk.

“I’d like to see my husband, please.”  Missy’s smile was just as fake-sweet as Rose’s, as they went through the whole song-and-dance.  One of the very first things Rose had been taught on her first day, by both Malcolm and her predecessor Jo, was to stall Missy as long as possible, making enough trouble that she didn’t find it worth it to visit the office.

This is your best friend’s mother, this is your best friend’s mother, this is your best friend’s mother, Rose lectured herself, pretending to stare intently at her screen for a moment.  “I can give you a few minutes, but he has a call at one that he can’t miss.”

“Thank you.”  And she swept past Rose into Malcolm’s office.

Once the door shut behind her, Rose let loose an undignified snort.  Taking a subtle picture with her mobile, she texted it to Clara with the caption Your mum’s here.

Missy Tucker was the subject of ongoing amusement amongst the three; every time she appeared after months of no contact she had an entirely different style, often with a slight tweak to her features suggesting she was a fan of cosmetic surgery.  Today her chosen look was that of evil Mary Poppins, complete with a plum-colored ankle-length skirt and matching dress coat, a white dress shirt buttoned to the neck with an elaborate bow, black heeled boots, a delicate hat, and an umbrella Rose would swear was an actual prop from the movie.

She looked ridiculous, and like she would be right at home as the evil orphanage matron in a Victorian version of Annie!

Are you fucking kidding me? Clara pinged back almost immediately.  I love my Dad, but God I wish I was adopted.  Please tell me I didn’t inherit her fashion sense!

Snickering, Rose shook her head and returned to her work polishing up her resume.  At precisely one o’clock she buzzed in on the intercom, using what Clara called her flight attendant voice.  “Malcolm, I have that potential donor on line two.”

“Thank you, Miss Tyler.”

A moment later the door opened and Missy stalked out, a murderous expression on her face.  “I’ll talk to you soon,” she threatened her ex over her shoulder, ignoring Rose as she stormed towards the lift.

Rose waited until the lift doors closed before rising and entering Malcolm’s office.  “So?”

He was lying on his couch with his head back against the cushions, a crystal cut glass of scotch hanging loosely from his hand.  “She wants to reconcile, says she’s changed, wants to go back to what we once were.”

“What did you say?”  She settled gingerly on the end of the glass coffee table by his head, watching as he opened tired eyes to stare at her.

“That who we were went up in a flaming pile of shit twenty-three years ago when I caught her high in bed with the babysitter on our fifth wedding anniversary.  That who we were was a childhood friendship that went too far.  That who we were died many, many years ago.”

He looked so sad, Rose’s heart went out to him.

“It’s far, far too late now.  A part of me will always miss that, always wonder, but…  It’s ancient history.  Never mind that this is all because of Wallace’s death and the inheritance.  She didn’t say it, but I know her.  Anything that even sniffs of money or power and she’s first in line, plotting how to get it.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose offered, giving him a kind smile.  “You deserve better than her.”

Sighing, he struggled upright, turning to plant his feet on the ground and set the untouched glass of scotch on the coffee table next to her.  “Thanks.”

Their eyes met, and for once, she didn’t blush and look away.  Clara’s question from the previous night circled back through her mind, and she let herself actually see him.  Ice blue eyes capable of such a coldness shined back, warm and open, something only a privileged few were allowed to see.  His strong features could be severe, Clara had once called them attack eyebrows, but when he smiled… his entire face would light up, almost like he was a different person.

She'd always found him attractive, may have had the occasional fantasy involving them, a bottle of wine, and a hot tub, but love?

Her gaze dropped to his lips, and she automatically licked her own.  She would be lying if she said she’d never wondered – didn’t everyone, at some point?  He drew closer, and she realized that she was leaning in; they were both leaning in.  Is this really happening?

Rose’s eyes fluttered closed, her heart pounding, and she could feel his breath against her lips when-

“Dad?”

[2lovesihaveofcomfortandfandoms]

Skinamalink: Chapter 7

Despite being in lockdown, it’s still taken me 4 days to post this somehow. Ah well. It’s up and I’ve also made some edits back the ways as well - nothing major just a bit of fixing the flow.

archiveofourown.org/works/20955815/chapters/55940269

Or here, if you fancy:

Chapter 7: Monster Back In Town

Vlad smiled wide – crooked teeth on show. Shark’s teeth – or a wolf’s. Either way, something carnivorous and hungry. But perhaps what was more terrifying was how genuine Vlad’s smiles were. Dark eyes brightened and laughter lines gathered around them.

           ‘Are you ever going to let me off the hook for that?’ Vlad chuckled.

‘No.’ Edward’s response was solid and definite, leaving little room for argument. Nevertheless, Vlad tried,

‘Be fair, Eddie – I was doing what was best for you.’

           ‘Debatable.’

‘Is it? What do you think Sikes would have done to you if he knew you were my son?’

Edward didn’t need to think – he knew. And it would probably have started with his kneecaps and a crowbar. But he wasn’t about to give Vlad the satisfaction, so Edward only shrugged in response.

           ‘Fine. Sulk if you want to. You’re avoiding the question. How do you feel now that Sikes is awake?’

Where to begin? He had taken to checking over his shoulder more often in the past week. And double-checking that the door was locked. Scrutinising the crowd in the café for familiar but unwelcome faces. But that was natural, wasn’t it? A man who wants to kill you comes back into the picture, you're bound to get a little paranoid. Edward knew the kind of man that Bill Sikes was and what he was capable of. He had witnessed it – even participated in some of it. And don’t all monsters fear the monster who made them? Not that Vlad would understand that – he was a monster all by himself.

           ‘Eddie?’

‘Look, I’m not doing great, but I’m handling it. Dorian’s the one we should be worried about.’

           ‘That’s really why you called me, isn’t it?’ Edward nodded. ‘You think he might start using again?’ Another nod. ‘He’s been clean five years.’

‘Sikes being in a coma helped with that. And honestly, I’d find it hard to blame him if he lapsed. Sometimes... sometimes it was the only thing that could get him through it at all.’

           ‘You didn’t need it.’

‘A lot of the others did. Sikes made your life his or he made it hell – sometimes both. A lot of us were too young to see and do the shit we did – so we found ways of coping.’ And then he said in a whisper, and mostly to himself, ‘We were just kids.’

           ‘I know.’

Vlad cast his mind back to the first time he’s seen Edward. Fifteen. Hair shaggy and black. Green eyes unmistakable, even with the bruising around one of them. The split lip. The slight limp. His face had been so thin and tired that he looked several years older than he was. Now, Vlad didn’t often get sentimental, but Edward had slowly teased it out. And the thought of anyone harming the boy... incited a vicious streak and violent thoughts that surprised even Vlad. And if Sikes did come for his son... well, this time Sikes wouldn’t even make it back to the hospital.

           ‘I should go. I’ve got work to do.’

Vlad squeezed Edward’s shoulder,

‘Alright, Eddie. You know that if you need anything – anything – you come to me.’

           ‘Yeah.’ Edward reached for the car door.

‘Eddie... if things get worse with Dorian – you will let me know, won’t you?’

           ‘Course I will.’

Edward left the car without a backward glance. Vlad watched as he walked back inside the café, closing the door hard behind him. Vlad paused to adjust a cufflink and said with incredible nonchalance,

‘Renfield, I want another man put on the hospital.’

           ‘Yes, sir.’

‘And if I find that any of our dealers are distributing to Mr Gray, they will find themselves on the nasty end of a spike.’

           ‘Of course, sir.’

DS Newcomen was in a growling bastard of a mood. Once again, the news had been delivered that his application for the post of Detective Inspector had been denied. No, no – someone else was being transferred into the unit, they said. A more efficient use of resources, they said. A load of bollocks, Newcomen thought. He’d been a DI once, hadn’t he? He still would be if Sikes hadn’t gone and got his head bashed in a car crash. Eight years ago, he had been on the heels of something great – just a few steps away from getting Sikes behind bars for good. But no bad guy, no case. No case... ten years of his life up in smoke.

           But now... now he had a chance for redemption – a chance to finally make the case and get everything back. And it was getting snatched away again.

           When Newcomen heard that Sikes was awake, he damn near fell out of his seat. He’d rushed straight to the hospital and had stayed there for hours until the doctors had let him in the room. There had always been something about that car crash that didn’t feel right – something that didn’t quite fit – and he was going to get answers.

           Sikes had smiled at him when he stepped inside,

‘Well, well, Inspector... time wasn’t kind to you, was it?’

           ‘It’s Sergeant now. You cost me DI.’

‘Shame. Where’s my fruit?’

           ‘What?’

‘You visit someone in hospital, you’re supposed to bring ‘em fruit.’ Newcomen bit the inside of his cheek and swallowed down the urge to arrest.

           ‘I ain’t here for a visit. I have questions.’

‘I hope it ain’t on current events – I’m a bit spotty there.’

           ‘No. I wanna ask about the car crash.’

‘Car crash?’ Sikes shrugged his shoulders and grinned like a hyena – deliberately evasive. ‘What car crash?’

           ‘Yes. Car crash. That’s how you got here. You know that. Do you remember anything about it?’

‘Nah. Nothing.’

           ‘Nothing?’

‘Nothing. Dashboard must’ve hit the ol’ noggin too hard. Sorry.’ Again, Sikes smiled and shrugged – it wasn’t apologetic, it was smug. It said, you couldn’t touch me then and you can’t touch me now – if you think I’m going to answer your questions, you’re even stupider than I thought you were.

           ‘I’m done here, Sikes. But I’ll be back.’

‘Next time bring fruit. I like strawberries.’

Newcomen had left and had been in a bad mood ever since.

           He flipped through the meticulously arranged binder on his desk – one of three. All on the same subject – the life and crimes of William Sikes. Some might call it obsessive. It was obsessive. But when questioned, Newcomen would always say that to catch a criminal you need to be a little obsessed. A cup of bad coffee from the machine was placed on the desk in front of him.

           ‘Ugh, Skip, again with the binder?’

‘It’s called police work, constable.’

           ‘The new DI’ll be here any moment.’

‘Exactly. I’m gonna give ‘im this and tell ‘im we should take the case.’

           ‘What case, Skip?’

‘Sikes is awake. Which means, after all this time, he can be brought to justice.’

           ‘Skip, I don’t get it. There’s plenty bad guys out there – what is it about Sikes?’

‘How old were you eight years ago?’

           ‘Fourteen.’

‘You’d have been a good age for him.’

The constable shifted uncomfortably where he stood. Newcomen turned his attention back to the binder.

           ‘What... what exactly does that mean?’

‘Sikes liked drafting kids into his crew. He’d find kids in need. Give ‘em a place to stay. Get ‘em fed. Make ‘em feel safe. But now they owe him, so he asks ‘em to do a job – and they feel like they can’t say no. So, they do it. And now he’s got ‘em committing a crime, so he uses it to make ‘em do more. Before long, he’s groomed these kids into criminals and they’re a long way from who they used to be. So it’s not just that Sikes is a bad man who does bad things. He drags other people down with him.’

There was a pause, then the constable said softly,

‘How many kids?’

Newcomen flipped several sections of the binder and spun it around for the constable to see. The page bore a list of names. There were forty-three in total but to look at it, they seemed to go on and on. All forty-three were arranged neatly alphabetically with birthdates – and in the case of an unfortunate handful, death dates. The constable blinked, refusing the tears passage.

           ‘You understand me now?’ The constable nodded. ‘Then get back to work.’

The atmosphere in the café had not improved and everyone felt the tension. Lucy was staying quiet. Justine bore it, even though confusion poked and prodded her. Adam stayed in the kitchen away from it all.

           The winter sun had set two hours ago – still leaving them with another three to go. Lucy rapped her knuckles on the side of the kitchen window.

           ‘Adam?’

‘Yes, Luce?’

Adam ducked down so that his face was visible through the gap.

           ‘Close up the kitchen, love. I’m gonna shut us for the night.’

‘What about the boss?’

           ‘The boss’ll deal with it.’

Adam nodded and gave a small smile. It was one thing to be grateful for – Adam’s smile had never been affected by the scars across his face. It was a good smile – kind and genuine.

           ‘How are you doing with all this, love?’ Adam shrugged.

‘Not gonna lie, Luce, the thought of Sikes being awake... of him being out again... I don’t like it, Luce. Not at all. I mean, sure, the goons who did this,’ Adam gestured towards his face, ‘are long gone – but the man’s a monster... and he’s going to hurt people.’

Lucy reached out and gave Adam’s hand a squeeze. It too was patterned with raised scars.

           ‘It’s gonna be ok.’

Lucy left Justine to start cleaning. When she reached the door of Edward’s office, she knocked softly.

           ‘Ed?’

There was no response. Lucy pushed the door open. For a moment, Lucy thought that Edward must have left. He wasn’t at his desk and his jacket was gone from the back of his chair. A slight shuffling sound drew Lucy to the couch. The leather jacket was serving as a makeshift blanket and his shoes were kicked off so that he could curl his legs up.

           ‘Ed? Ed!’

Edward jolted awake – eyes bleary and hair tousled out of place.

           ‘Jesus, Luce – what the hell?’

‘You’re sleeping?’

           ‘I’m fucking tired. I was woken at five.’ Edward rubbed his eyes. ‘What d’you want?’

‘Wanna close the shop.’

           ‘Shit, is it ten already?’

‘Seven – but it’s quiet. And I don’t think anyone is feeling it tonight.’

Edward didn’t even have the resolve left to contradict her. He started to pull his boots back on.

           ‘Alright. Let’s close it down. Where’s Dorian?’

‘Gone.’ Edward jolted upward.

           ‘What!?’

‘Ed, it’s alright. He left with Basil an hour ago.’ Edward grumbled and sank back down on the couch. ‘Ed, is Dorian using again?’

           ‘No. Maybe... I don’t know.’

Lucy settled herself beside Edward and put an arm around his shoulders. They stayed there for a long moment, silent, in the reassuring company of the other.

           ‘We’re all gonna be here. Whatever happens, Ed. We’ll stick by you.’

‘You shouldn’t.’ Edward shrugged Lucy’s arm away. ‘Sikes is gonna come for me – and when he does, no one can be anywhere near me.’

           ‘He might not, Ed.’

‘I put him in a coma, Luce,’ said Edward, hands running through his hair. ‘He’s coming for me.’

[searchingwardrobes]

Of Earth and Sea: 8/9

My fic for the 2019 @cssns will drop this Friday, so to celebrate, I’m re-posting my fic from last year (and also because I was a tumblr newbie back then and didn’t post the chapters here, just the link to Ao3)

Gorgeous art by @shipsxahoy!

Also check out the additional art that @cocohook38 made for this chapter here. I flailed like crazy when I saw it the first time! Our Captain Swan family dressed in elvish clothing is brought perfectly to life in her drawing.

Summary: Five years after their wedding, Emma and Killian are ready to start a family. But Emma discovers that raising a family isn't that simple when your husband is a Dunedin (half-elf) and your mother-in-law is neither dead nor alive.

Rated T

Also on Ao3

Tagging:(let me know if you want to be added or removed from this list) @welllpthisishappening @kday426 @jennjenn615 @let-it-raines @snowbellewells @profdanglaisstuff @wellhellotragic @mythologicalmango @xhookswenchx @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @lovepurplepumpkins

Chapter Seven:

“Lend dreams nin mel

  Glenn-nai i even lands

  Lend songs bo i thul

  Im tur-feel ha in i nen,

  Im tur-feel in i coe,

  Im tur-smel ha in i gwilith”

Tauriel ran her hands soothingly through her little boy’s dark brown hair as he drifted off to sleep in her lap. Every year his hair got a shade darker. When he became a man he would mostly likely have black hair like his father’s. His eyes were already that stunning shade of blue. He still had Tauriel’s freckles, but those seemed to fade as the years went by. She sighed as she watched the eight year old’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. Oh, how she hoped her son would choose a different path than that of his father!

It worried her that he had fallen asleep like this. He was so thin and hungry. Life as a slave boy on that ship was much too cruel. A tear slipped down her cheek as she stroked her precious boy’s face. This wasn’t the life she wanted for him. Her heart broke at how she couldn’t even care for her own child. She couldn’t even pass any of her elven strength on to him, since she wasn’t fully alive. She found berries in the forest for him to eat, but what he really needed was lambas bread. Hopefully he would dream deeply enough tonight to find himself in the elven lands, and her people could give him better nourishment. She waved her hand over him and muttered in elvish.

“I polod im-gar, im on-na cin.”

Tauriel let out a relieved breath when some color came back into her son’s cheeks. Using magic in her condition was always a guessing game. One thing was for sure; it wasn’t enough to change her son’s circumstances.

Tauriel heard course words and laughter coming from the clearing on the other side of the trees. She eased Killian gently and swiftly from her lap and into a pile of soft moss. She waved her hand over the child once again.

“Taur, coe; beri-hi hen. Lore, nin red, lore tovon a lor.”

The moss and earth obeyed her command, wrapping Killian like a blanket. The roots of the tree nearby rose up and arched over him. No passerby would guess that a child slept there. Tauriel turned and moved on her soft and soundless feet towards the voices. She almost gasped at what she saw through the cover of leaves.

A man, of dark hair and strong, slender build, had a petite, buxom maiden against a large tree. She was laughing merrily, her head tipped back as the man trailed passionate kisses along her neck. His hand cupped her bosom.

The man was Brennan Jones.

Memories assaulted Tauriel of that painful day when she had found him with another woman. His hands caressing another in the same way he had caressed Tauriel just the day before. His lips drinking in the taste of someone else. It was a jarring image that no one should have to endure. The woman Brennan was with now wasn’t the same one she had caught him with that fateful day. Seemed he was faithful to no one.

Brennan moved to loosen the woman’s laces as she buried her fingers in his hair. He began gasping out, “Loreena! Oh, Loreena!”

Tauriel rolled her eyes as she turned to slip back to get Killian. The last thing the boy needed was to see the wretched man again. Not after the year of misery the poor child had endured. All because Brennan Jones knew nothing of faithfulness and commitment. But before she could take even a step, Brennan’s female companion corrected him.

“My name is not Loreena.”

The coldness of the woman’s voice gave Tauriel pause.

“Sure it is,” Brennan chuckled, flashing the woman that charming smile of his. Only someone who knew him well, like Tauriel, would be able to see the slight nervousness in his eyes. Tauriel bit her lip to keep from chuckling. The man had known so many women, he was bound to have difficulty keeping them all straight.

“No. It is not.” Then the woman transformed right before his eyes. Gone was the head of light brown curls, gone were the petite curves, gone was the upturned, freckled nose. Instead stood a woman of regal bearing, tall, with long, straight raven tresses and milky white skin. Tauriel clapped a hand to her mouth to keep from gasping.

“Carabosse!” Brennan cried. It was the mistress he had taken when wed to Tauriel!

“Yes, it’s me,” the woman replied coldly. “I’m surprised you remembered my name. What was it . . . Margeurite? The blonde you left me for? And you were married to the redheaded elf when you took me as a lover.” She chuckled wryly. “You like a sampling, don’t you?”

Brennan sauntered close to the woman, reaching out to stroke her shiny ebony hair. “Yet none were as exotic as you, Carabosse.”

“Your flattery will get you nowhere, Brennan Jones,” the woman told him, taking a step back. “You should know better than to become entangled with a witch. Especially if you do not plan on being faithful. What is that expression? Ah yes, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

Brennan’s eyes widened and he went suddenly pale. “Come now, Carabosse, surely we can – “ His words were cut off suddenly as he clutched his throat and gasped for breath. He lifted a trembling hand towards the witch for a moment, but then collapsed to the ground.

Carabosse knelt beside him, brushing a lock of hair from his face. “Sleep well, my former lover. Sleep long and fitfully. For I do not think there are any upon this earth who feel any kind of love, much less true love for a despicable man like you.”

She leaned forward and brushed her blood red lips across Brennan’s forehead, then stood. Still looking at the still form at her feet, she called out, “I know you are there, elf.”

Tauriel startled, and quickly began to head back to where Killian lay.

“Show yourself,” Carabosse called after her. As if Tauriel had any intention of doing her bidding. Until the witch added, “I know your son is with you.”

Tauriel froze in her tracks. She shut her eyes tight and pressed her lips together. She couldn’t risk the witch hurting Killian, so she squared her shoulders and stepped out from the copse of trees. Carabosse smiled serenely at her.

“You can thank me,” she told Tauriel, gesturing at the man sprawled upon the forest floor.

“You knew I was here the whole time.”

Carabosse shrugged. “I could have put him down in the room at the tavern. But I sensed your magic in the woods, and I thought to myself, now that would be awfully poetic.”

“So you’re just going to leave him here.”

Carabosse’s eyes widened in surprise. “You worry for his well -being? After the pain he put you through?” The witch gestured at Tauriel’s body, which had begun to fade slightly. “This whole wasting away thing you elves do. Surely you hate him.”

Tauriel looked down at Brennan’s handsome face. He had a way of charming a woman, of making her believe she was the only one so beautiful, so desirable. Looking back, Tauriel realized his praise was always for her beauty: her hair, her eyes, her figure. He never really knew her heart, her soul, or her mind.

“I gave myself to one who was not deserving. I should have opened my eyes before it was too late. And now I pay the price.”

Carabosse spoke with surprising tenderness. “A grieving heart can make desperate decisions.”

Tauriel’s gaze snapped up to the woman’s face, so cold, so seemingly indifferent. Yet there was a tiny bit of softness in her eyes. “H-how did you know?”

Carabosse shrugged. “Word gets around. Especially when it’s an elf and a dwarf. Two races who are supposed to hate each other. Besides,” she inclined her head towards the trees, “you named your son after him.”

This wasn’t a topic Tauriel wished to discuss with a stranger, so she lowered her gaze back to Brennan. “We can’t just leave him here. Between the wild life and the elements, he’ll be killed.”

“You elves,” Carabosse scoffed as she turned to go, “always helping. Always caring too much.”

“It is against our nature to turn our backs on the weak and suffering.”

“You can’t undo my magic.”

Tauriel tilted her head, “I can change it.”

Carabosse rolled her eyes, “Fine, suit yourself. As long as he spends many long years in that red, burning room of torture, it will be enough for me.” And with that, the witch disappeared in a cloud of blood red smoke.

Tauriel worked quickly once the witch had disappeared. Killian’s presence helped her stay corporeal for much longer than normal, but her time, even with her son, was coming to a close. She didn’t have much time left, and she still wanted to see her child back to his ship. So she first erected a protective coffin of sorts from roots and moss. Then she put a protection spell around it, so at least Brennan wouldn’t be eaten by wolves or freeze to death. Then she spoke a spell over him.

“Lore tenna sanda mel hir cin, lore mal an i lumenns-o tindu, lore.”

Essentially, the spell allowed Brennan to awaken during the brief time between twilight and midnight. Most likely, he would only be partially awake, for Carabosse’s magic was powerful. To most, he would appear like a bedridden, sick man, but at least he would be freed from the torture of that horrible red burning room. Tauriel’s counter-spell also allowed the sleeping curse to be broken if Brennan could find a true love. Tauriel rested her hand upon the twisted branches of the make-shift coffin.

“May you find a woman with a heart so pure that she can make yours finally faithful.”

Then she turned to walk back to their son.

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

The journey from the land of the woodland elves to Rivendell was normally one of many long weeks, so Emma was thankful for the pouch of beans that Anton had given them. She was ready to go immediately, but Killian insisted they stay the night so she could rest.

“Killian, I can’t possibly sleep with Elien still so far away,” she argued.

Killian reached out his hand and cupped her cheek, his expression a mixture of tenderness and concern. “You died earlier, love.”

Emma chuckled wryly as she grasped his hand and kissed his palm. “Only with us is that a normal occurrence.”

“And you will sleep, I can promise you that,” Galadriel told her, “many have come here to be refreshed on their journeys. You will feed on lambas bread and drink of sweet, refreshing springs of water. And by the time you have finished, we will have a bower ready for you.”

Emma pressed her lips together. She had to admit, she was starving and her legs felt like rubber. “Okay,” she finally relented, “but we leave first thing in the morning.”

“With you, that may mean eleven o’clock,” Killian quipped.

Emma smacked him, “So wake me up, sailor!”

He laughed lightly as he pulled her close. “I won’t let you sleep the day away, Swan, I promise. But I will make sure you rest.”

The elven meal they were brought didn’t seem like much: two squares of lambas bread, a wedge of cheese, and a small bowl of wild berries. Yet it satisfied Emma’s hunger completely, and every bite of the lambas bread sent a pleasant warmth all through her. Then she and Killian were escorted up the winding staircase of one of the enormous trees. One of Galadriel’s maidservants opened a door made of birch branches and thick opaque glass. It lead into a room that reminded Emma of both a giant bird’s nest and a domed hut. The bed was sunken into the bowl shaped floor, padded with the softest moss Emma had ever felt and piled high with blankets of soft deer skin. There were also piles of down stuffed pillows woven of silk. Killian told her the elves harvested the silk from the husks of the cocoons that hung in the trees.

Even though they had complete privacy inside their woven bower, the songs of the elves still filtered through.

“Lend dreams nin mel

  Glenn-nai i even lands

  Lend songs bo i thul

  Im tur-feel ha in i nen,

  Im tur-feel in i coe,

  Im tur-smel ha in i gwilith”

“It’s the same song you sing to Elien,” Emma said with a yawn as she curled up beneath the blankets.

“Aye, love,” Killian replied as he lay down behind her, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her close until she was tucked under his chin, “elvish lullabies. It’s why we know you will sleep long and deep.”

“You said we,” Emma said drowsily, her words beginning to slur, “I thought you didn’t like being called an elf.”

“Sometimes I don’t mind,” he answered, his own voice fading into sleep.

Emma turned in his arms to rest her cheek against his chest. Between his warmth, the rise and fall of his chest, and the song of the elves, fighting the pull of sleep was impossible. I feel almost like the bower is rocking gently, was her last thought before she drifted off, like sleeping on the Jolly Roger . . .

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

Elien Jones sat at the edge of the pool of water, gathering sticks and smooth, colorful pebbles. The mist from the waterfall that spilled into the pool dampened her strawberry blonde hair, curling the wisps that framed her face. She gnawed on her lower lip in concentration the way her mother often did.

“Is that a fairy house you’re building?” Elrond asked her kindly.

“No,” Elien answered simply, shaking her head. She picked up a waxy leaf and carefully stuck the largest stick through its center. Then she flipped over the sticks she had woven together and pushed the tall stick with the leaf through the center. “It’s a pirate ship,” she explained.

Tauriel pressed her fingers to her lips to suppress a smile as Elrond frowned. She schooled her features then turned to the eldest council member imploringly. “I beg of you to reconsider this plan. Elien is a special little girl. She doesn’t belong here.”

“Of course she’s special!” Elrond exclaimed. “The daughter of the savior, a product of true love, and a Dunedin? She is the perfect match for my grandson in every way. And one day, they will rule our people. United and strong once again.”

Tauriel shook her head wearily. “That’s not what I meant. Her magic is bigger than the elves, bigger even than her mother’s destiny. I have seen it. To keep her here would be like . . . trapping a majestic Eagle in a cage.”

Elrond gazed at her with furrowed brow, “They would rule more than just the elves then, a united kingdom of men and elves. A mighty force for good, for peace.”

Tauriel scowled openly. “Her destiny is more than preserving bloodlines. More than who she will wed.”

Tauriel turned away from the elf to go to her granddaughter. She watched as Elien pushed the little boat gently into the water. It promptly sank. She tilted her golden head for a moment, then lifted both hands towards the water. Her magic pulsed forth, the water bubbled, and the little boat popped back up on the surface. A shimmer swirled around it, and then it bobbed merrily along until it disappeared in the mist at the base of the waterfall.

“What a lovely ship,” Tauriel told the girl as she knelt next to her and wrapped an arm over her shoulder.

Elien smiled as she gazed into the mist, dimples appearing in both cheeks. Tauriel brushed the child’s hair back from her face, her heart aching at how much the child looked like Killian at times. He argued that she looked like her and Emma. But Tauriel often felt she was looking far into the past as she gazed into the little girl’s face.

“Effie,” Elien said, turning to her grandmother with a furrowed brow and a serious expression, “I knew you would come.”

Tauriel smiled as she cupped the child’s face in her hands. “Of course I did. And your mama and papa are coming too. We came to save you.”

Elien’s gaze drifted to the ground, the long lashes she had inherited from Killian brushing the tops of her cheeks. “No. You didn’t. I’m the one who will save you.”

Tauriel’s eyes widened in confusion. “Why do you say that, child?”

Elien’s mossy green eyes looked full of wisdom beyond her years as she held her grandmother’s gaze. “I have seen it in my dreams.”

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

Killian’s suggestive grin as he helped Emma up after they crashed through the portal was more irritating than attractive. Since she was more focused on dusting herself off and picking leaves out of her hair.

“What?” she snapped, then immediately sighed as she rubbed at a bruise on her elbow, “I’m sorry, babe. I’m just on edge and, you know, slightly battered.”

Killian’s gaze softened as he rubbed her arms gently. “I know, my love, no offense taken. I was merely admiring this look on you.” He then pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek.

Emma smiled and blushed even as she shrugged. “Guess I’d make a good elf, huh?”

Killian’s eyes took in the dress of rich burgundy velvet with gold trim. Emma’s fair skin was milky white in contrast, and the gold brought out the honey-colored hues in her hair. Lambas bread always made skin and hair brighter, but Emma’s seemed to positively radiate light. Her hair was held back from her face in the traditional elven way, braided in loose knots. Emma lifted her hand to pat the braids gingerly.

“These aren’t literally knots are they?” she asked hesitantly, “Cause that would be a pain in the ass to comb out.”

Killian blinked, not really sure what she was saying, more distracted at the shape of her arms as the wide sleeves of the dress slipped down to her elbow. The movement also gave him a peek of her cleavage against the scooped neckline. Emma just laughed and shook her head.

“You can take this dress off me later, pirate, let’s go get our little girl.”

The portal had deposited them only a half hour’s walk away from the borders of Rivendell, so they didn’t have far to go. Killian’s elven senses directed them, and they walked in silence for a few moments. Emma glanced his way, admiring the soft leather breeches he wore beneath the green tunic cinched at his waist. Over that he wore a cloak of lighter brown, edged in bright green thread. He had grumbled when the elves brought the garments to him, but in the end he had to admit that his jeans and leather jacket were not only worse for wear after the run in with the spiders, but weren’t warm enough for the woods they would be traveling through. Emma liked him in the outfit; she swore it made those ears she loved so much seem more pointed, made the flecks of green in his eyes more pronounced. Of course, she honestly liked him in just about anything. Captain Hook, “Prince Charles,” Killian Jones of Storybrooke, or Killian the Dunedin, he was all of those things to her. And she loved every part of him. He glanced her way and arched a brow.

“Admiring something, love?” he teased.

“Always,” she told him, grasping his hook in her hand. She didn’t let go as they made their way along, and finally worked up the courage to ask him something she had been wondering for quite some time. “Killian? Why did your mother stay away so long?”

He stopped abruptly. “What do you mean?”

Emma wet her lips nervously. “When she showed up right before our wedding, you said you hadn’t seen her since right before the curse was cast. That was a long time, and I thought she was cursed to wander after the one she loves most. So . . . “

Killian clenched his jaw, his eyes darting, landing anywhere but on Emma’s face. “I’m sure she was around, but . . . “ he finally met Emma’s eyes, releasing a long breath, “I told her I never wanted to see her again.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “But why? What did she do?”

Killian lowered his head as shame washed over his face. “She did nothing. It’s what I did. The last time I saw her . . . it was also . . . the last time I saw my father.”

Emma’s eyes widened as she put it all together. “Oh.”

Killian ran his hand wearily over his face. “I was leaving that hut, leaving my father there cold on the ground, and there she was. She looked so . . . distraught. She begged me not to leave my little brother alone. Said she knew it would haunt me.”

Emma stepped closer, cupping his face in her hands. “Hey. Look at me. I’ve heard this story, remember? It didn’t change how I felt about you then, and it still doesn’t now.”

Killian nodded, blinking away shameful tears, and turned his face to kiss her palm. Then he grasped one of her hands with his and laced their fingers together. “I responded to my mother in the only way I could at the time – with anger and rage. I already was ashamed of what I had done, but I wasn’t about to let her know that. So I told her I had finally done what she never had courage to – I made our father pay for all of his crimes. I never saw my mother weep like that. How could I ever look her in the eye again? After what I had done? After I had become so dark?”

“And that’s why you told her you never wanted to see her again.”

Killian nodded. “And she honored my request. But I’ve always wondered. If it was because she – stopped loving me. That I had become such a villain that even she couldn’t love me.”

Emma shook her head as she drew closer. “I have heard your mother talk about you enough to know that could never happen.”

“My father’s love had its limits. Why not hers?”

Emma kissed him softly, first on the lips then on his nose, then each cheek. She then wrapped her arms around him, pressing her lips to his collar bone. “Because she’s your mother,” Emma whispered against his skin, “nothing could ever make me stop loving Henry or Elien.” She pulled back to look into his eyes again. “And she’s so much like you. You could never stop loving any of us either. It just isn’t in your nature; and it isn’t in hers.”

Killian stroked her cheek, a peace settling over his features. “In my heart, I know you’re right. That’s why I just can’t believe that she would take the Arkenstone.”

Emma took a step back, tugging lightly on his hook. “When have we ever let fate determine our future? This family fights for each other, sees the best in each other. I really don’t give a shit what you’re grandmother’s pool says.”

Killian chuckled as he walked alongside his wife. “That’s the Emma I love.”

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

Emma had to admit that the towering waterfalls of Rivendell were a sight to behold. And she understood now what Killian meant about the air here. It strengthened her as she breathed it in, and the light seemed . . . not brighter, but more rich, making every color more vibrant.

Yet she cared little about her surroundings once a familiar voice cut through the air. “Mama! Papa!”

She and Killian’s elven escorts, though armed, were no match for their determination to go to their daughter. They both shoved the guards aside heedlessly as they dashed through the doorway into Elrond’s throne room. They then fell to their knees as they gathered Elien into their arms, peppering her with kisses. Killian had been right; the elves had taken good care of their little girl. She was well fed, and even seemed happy. And Emma had to admit she looked adorable in her tiny elven dress of lavender and silver.

“Can we go home?” Elien asked with a frown as she pulled away.

“Of course we can, cygnet,” Killian told her as he scooped her up.

“This should be her home,” Elrond spoke up, “with her people.”

Emma marched right up to the elf and without hesitation punched him in the jaw. “That’s for kidnapping my child. And for the record, her people are in Storybrooke.”

“But elven blood runs through her veins.”

“Well, so does human blood,” Emma snapped back.

“The fate of her people hang in the balance!” Elrond shouted. “We’re talking about the greater good!”

“And I’m talking about what’s best for Elien!” Emma was in the elf’s face now. “I know what it’s like to sacrifice having a family for the greater good. My daughter won’t suffer the same thing.”

“Then you and your husband can stay here,” Elrond argued, more calmly now.

“I don’t think your listening,” Emma seethed, “we’re taking her back to Storybrooke where she has grandparents and an uncle and godparents and friends.”

“I’m afraid it isn’t your decision.”

“Says who? I’m her mother.”

“Enough!” Tauriel shouted. It was the loudest Emma had ever heard her speak. “Elien is my granddaughter, not a pawn.”

“Besides,” Killian interjected, “it isn’t the elven way to keep a child against her will.”

Elrond’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed before he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. His royal guard rushed into the room on their silent elven feet, their arrows making a soft, yet eerie swishing sound as they pulled them from their quivers in perfect synchronization and notched them to their bows.

“I stand corrected,” Killian muttered. He set Elien down gently. “Get behind me, little love.”

Emma inched her way over and she and Killian kept their daughter safely sandwiched between them.

“I don’t want to threaten you,” Elrond said.

“Could have fooled me,” Emma replied sarcastically.

“Elrond, you can’t seriously be considering forcibly removing a child from her parents,” Tauriel argued, “this isn’t the elven way!”

“Not the elven way?” Elrond snapped. “Soon the ways of our people will die out. More and more of our youth are leaving these lands, intermarrying with the race of men. Our magic is weakening, our lands dying.”

Tauriel laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Then perhaps it’s time we joined the race of men instead of keeping ourselves apart.”

Elrond’s face contorted with grief and sadness. “You sound like my daughter. My precious Arwen who will suffer your fate when her true love dies.”

“That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?” Tauriel asked gently. “Giving her a bloodline that will help her hold on as I have done.”

Killian exchanged a look with Emma, and then he stepped forward slowly, pulling the Arkenstone from the satchel at his hip. “If I may, my Lord, offer an alternative?”

“The Arkenstone!” Elrond breathed, reaching for it with a trembling hand.

Killian pulled it back against his chest. “Aye. The stone that will take away your daughter’s immortality. In exchange for my little girl, of course.”

Elrond’s eyes flashed. “Or my army takes it by force.”

“Or I take it!”

Every eye in the room turned in shock at the sound of the small voice. Elien Jones stood in the middle of the throne room, her green eyes flashing fire, magic tingling between her fingertips. She raised her hand towards her father, and the Arkenstone flew into her hand.

“What are you doing!” Elrond screamed, racing forward. Elien flung her hand, and Elrond was frozen in place.

Emma and Killian shouted their daughter’s name, but they found they were frozen in place as well. The stone pulsed an even brighter red in the little girl’s hand. Emma lifted frantic eyes to her husband, but he looked just as frightened as she did.

“Elien, honey,” Tauriel said gently, easing down on her knees in front of her granddaughter, “you need to put the stone down.”

“No, Effie,” Elien said in her little girl voice, “it’s meant for you.”

Elien placed the stone into Tauriel’s palm, then she placed her tiny hands over her grandmother’s. Magic sparked, and snaking red lines poured forth from the stone, enveloping Tauriel. When it cleared, she collapsed to the ground, and the stone rolled across the floor. It was no longer red, but a dull glassy color. Elien released her hold on the others, and Killian and Emma raced to Tauriel’s side.

“Mother,” Killian said gently, helping her up to a seated position.

She moaned and held her head, and Killian grasped her arms, half laughing in disbelief as he squeezed her shoulders, then her hands between his. She hadn’t felt so solid since he was a tiny lad.

“You’re . . . you’re . . . “

Tauriel put her chest to her heart. “I’m mortal.” She reached up and cupped Killian’s face in her hands, marveling at the stubble beneath her palms. Her little boy, all grown up, and she could finally really, truly feel him. “Oh my precious, precious boy.”

Killian embraced his mother then, holding her tightly as he hadn’t been able to in so many long centuries. Tears filled Emma’s eyes as she watched them. Elien flung her arms around both her papa and her Effie. Tauriel turned to her granddaughter and peppered her face with kisses. Then they yanked Emma in for a group hug.

“The stone chose you.”

The Jones family looked up to see Elrond standing over them. Emma smiled at Killian.

“Galadriel didn’t see your mother taking the stone, she saw Elien giving it to her.”

Tauriel shook her head. “But why? Why me?”

Elrond reached out and took Tauriel’s hand, helping her to her feet. “Because of the many long years of sacrifice for your son. You have earned your rest, Tauriel of the Woodland Elves.”

She turned to her son, her daughter-in-law, and her granddaughter. “And I know just where I’ll spend my final years.”

[fluidityandgiggles]

Sleep Is For The Weak - Chapter 12

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 5, Last Chapter

Writing Masterlist - for previous chapters not otherwise linked, Read on AO3

Notes (I guess): Thanks a lot to @ilovemygaydad for updating y’all about my wifi situation, the wifi works semi-well now, and... well...

WRITING THIS CHAPTER WAS HELL AND A HALF AND IM SO GLAD ITS FINALLY FINISHED.

Ahem. Excuse me. I have a couple of very important things to say, though.

If any of you haven't read the latest chapter of Keep Him Safe, which is right here, please go do so. I read it the moment it was posted and... I was at dinner with my family, so I had to hold in my squealing... to be perfectly honest with y'all, I already knew what was going to happen in that chapter since I started writing chapter three, I think...? So I have known about this for a very long time, but it still made me super happy to see it actually happen in writing. So... go read KHS, y'all. You really should. It's awesome.

(Quick update: I checked my screenshots and... yeah, I've known about that since July, which is when I started writing this fic. Again, I've known about what happened in sleep for six months, and surprisingly didn't spoil almost any of it to anyone around me. I deserve a fucking prize.)

To anyone who just came over from Eva's shameless plugging of me - hello, nice to have you here. In this fucked up piece of angst we discuss queer history as well as Remy's personal history, or - as I said to myself while reading and re-reading what Eva has to say about this fic - "well, this story is as much about queer history as it is about Remy, where he came from, where he's going, where he came from cotton eye joey'n". And to anyone who's a regular reader, I'm so glad you're sticking around to read this... this thing. It's become a monster in my head, I can promise you that much.

As always, thanks to @broadwaytheanimatedseries for the original idea, to @whatwashernameagain for the original fic (can you believe it’s been six months since we came up with chapter 23?), to @anony-phangirl and @asleepybisexual and @winglessnymph for the help wherever needed, and a special one to Morgan - again - for helping me get the word out. All of those people are my shining stars and I love them so much.

Tag list (sort of): @bunny222, @ab-artist, @sweet-and-sour-shadowling, @your-username-is-unavailable, @virgilcrofters, @why-things-go-boom, @ilovemygaydad (thanks again, kiddo!), @violetblossem. @maybe-i-like-the-misery, @book-of-charlie, @thatsanswitch

(Wanna be tagged? Just lemme know!)

Trigger warning: period appropriate transphobia (the early 00s were not exactly trans-friendly). This chapter discusses rape again, this time in a bit more detail (nothing graphic, it’ll never be graphic, I promise), and includes a... panic attack of sorts. Be warned.

—————

January 24th, 2003

Emile's smile faltered.

"...so what if I got raped?" He muttered, putting down the stack of chairs he was holding. "What's done is done. They had their fun—"

"They…?" India tilted her head. Oh shoot… "There was more than one person?"

"More like three… what? Why are you looking at me like—"

The stack India was holding fell to the floor.

"Did you tell anyone?" Emile stared at the floor. Maybe she'll go away if he doesn't cooperate. "Emile! Did you tell anyone?"

"I told the doctors…" Emile's voice faltered. "What's going on?"

"I'm surprised you're even alive right now!" India's pacing was… terrifying. For some reason… she suddenly just… turned so scary. "Mixing date rape drugs with alcohol, which is what I'm assuming happened to you, is so dangerous! And I'm only assuming that's what happened because I heard from Remy that they found GHB traces—"

"I'm not proud," Emile managed to stutter. "Of… all this. I just… I can drink, okay? I made some mistakes in the past—"

"You're seventeen!"

"I made some mistakes in the past, and… this one makes me feel like all those mistakes have been trying to tell me that I shouldn't exist…"

"No… no, peach, please." He already started crying by the time she stepped in to hug him. "I get that. I really do. Sometimes I think about how much better my life might've been if I pretended like I'm 'cured' of being transgender after conversion. My cousin wouldn't have done what she did, that's the biggest plus. But… I wouldn't have come here. I wouldn't have started on my way to become a statistics analyst. I wouldn't have met Jenna. I would probably be living a sad, closeted life back home, and that isn't such a nice thing."

"You were too…?"

"I was too, yeah… as victims, we gotta stick to each other."

The wet spots on India's sweater were getting larger by the second. But she didn't mind it.

"Like I was told when I was sixteen," she said, much quieter than before. "Nobody is going to believe a man who says he was raped. We gotta stick together, whether we like it or not."

——

"Hey, isn't that that friend of yours?" Remy heard behind him about two minutes before the meeting started.

Oh, good.

"Hey, didn't you deliberately choose to forget that I live in the other side of the US from you because you wanted to be a little fuck?" Remy asked back, looking at Chris turn redder than a tomato.

"I swear to god, I had no idea!"

"Suck it and your excuses, Mendez."

"Hey, hey… come on, Remy. Won't you at least let me make it up to you?"

Remy couldn't stay angry… well, he could. But not as angry. It was a stupid reason, too…

"I will." Chris beamed at him. "But it'll take a very long time."

"...you have a week."

"I won't let you down," Chris said with the same wide, obnoxious grin, quickly kissing Remy's cheek and taking a seat.

Fuck him and his obnoxious self.

On the third of January, Remy and Emile sat down on the hotel bed in what was probably the fanciest hotel Remy's ever been to (though he never really visited any hotels in his life, no time or money for that). They were listening to Gustav Holst's The Planets as Emile performed a one-man dramatic reading of No Exit, and Remy couldn't feel more at peace.

This situation right here - all the people, all the tension, Chris right there a few steps away from him - was the exact opposite.

"Do you want me to leave?" A quiet voice said and Remy felt himself being squeezed so tight, he was sure his ribs would crack. Emile. "I can leave if you—"

"Come on, sit next to me," Remy said as quietly and took a rather far seat from Chris. Serves him right.

"Happy Friday, everyone," India opened the meeting. "I see that we got some new people after the break, so we're going to do another name round. Who wants to start?"

Emile raised his hand almost immediately.

"I'm Emile, I'm— do we mention our major?"

"If you want to."

"I'm Emile, I'm a psychology major, and I'm probably gay. Or asexual. I just… don't really know if I'm more gay or asexual yet."

——

Monday, January 27th

"Look, I find some of what you teach suspect," Emile hummed to himself as he skipped behind Remy back to their building after a particularly entertaining sols 20 class. "Because I'm used to relying on intellect, but I try to open up to what I don't know, because reason says I should've died three years ago…"

"Em, stop it," Remy half-laughed. "I get it, you're still thinking about Rent."

"It was such a good show!" Emile whined - well, sort of. "Jai Rodriguez was really good!"

"I met Idina Menzel through this," Remy said with another chuckle. "She's nice… kind of a diva, if you ask me."

"So… like you?"

"What do you mean, like me?"

"Nice, but kind of a diva." Emile nudged him. "I'll bet you she's totally selfless and sweet but acts like she doesn't care about anything in the world—"

"No, actually… she isn't." Remy sighed. The memories were foggy - it was over eight years ago - but… "Dad is working on some project with her again. Her and Kristin Chenoweth…"

"Kristin?" Emile shrieked. "Good golly, I love her! She's so sweet and talented!"

"I'm really not supposed to tell you anything," Remy laughed, and then stopped.

A figure made him freeze at his doorstep. A small, shaking figure, with braided brown hair and an ill-fitting, black, puffy coat.

Leah was rapidly knocking on Remy's suite door.

——

"Why did you think it was a good idea to come here?" Remy asked, careful not to scream. Leah sat in the living room, her hair dripping wet from the shower he made her take, wrapped up in the clothes she brought with her in her lime green schoolbag. She was waiting on her hot chocolate.

"I wanted to."

"How did you even get a bus ticket? You're seven!"

"I took money from mom and went to the bus station!" Leah huffed. "I know where the buses are, and I know how to—"

"I didn't say you don't know, Leah Mae," Remy chastised, putting the cup of hot chocolate on the table quite forcefully. "But you're seven years old! This was incredibly dangerous of you—"

"I don't wanna live at home anymore!" Leah screamed. "Mom was mean all of Christmas, and Lizzie wasn't being nice when we went back to school, she didn't want me to be her friend anymore, and Rachel was annoying—"

"Sweetie, they're going to think I kidnapped you!" Leah was taken aback. Remy was worried to the point of terrifying. "They're going to think I kidnapped you, Leah. It won't end well!"

"I didn't think…" the tears started coming out. Oh shit… "I didn't mean it! I just… I don't like being home! Don't be mad at me!"

"Oh, baby, no, I'm not mad at you!" Remy was quick to take her in for a hug. His poor baby sister… "I'm just worried, Leah. Extremely worried. Never do such a thing ever again, okay?" She nodded in his arms. "There's nothing we can do about this now, but—"

The door opened with a bang, and "I brought the bunnies!"

Leah immediately perked up. Mycroft tried to hop straight into her lap the moment he was close enough, since he already knew her and was very worried for the tiny human, but Lestrade took his time getting to know her. She was new, and he didn't know her yet, and what if she wasn't going to be nice?

"Leah, this is Lestrade," Emile said with a huge smile, closing the door and coming to cuddle them all - Remy included. "He's Mycroft's brother, and I adopted him after Christmas!"

"But you don't celebrate Christmas."

"No I don't, but you do." He booped her nose, making her giggle. "Lestrade is a nice boy. Give him a bit, he'll jump into your lap in no time."

As Leah entertained herself, playing with the bunnies and telling them stories, Remy pulled Emile to the side.

"She ran away from home!"

"I heard that when you asked me to go get the bunnies, Remy."

"She's seven years old! What do I do with a seven-year old runaway? Is it even a thing? A seven-year old runaway?"

Emile kisses Remy's cheek quicker than he could process it happening. "It's going to be fine. Call Linda, let her know that Leah is here—"

"Leah asked me not to tell anyone she's here," Remy sighed, rubbing his face in frustration.

"I understand, but… Linda is still your mom. Leah is still seven years old. She needs to go home, whether you like it or not." When Remy still seemed like he's having trouble processing it, Emile pulled him into a hug. "Do you want me to talk to her about it for you?"

Remy could only say a very weak "yes please" before Emile went back to the couch, to talk to Leah.

He was jittering. He was angry, and scared, and disappointed, and proud, and he felt everything so intensely and was so shocked and confused that he couldn't name it. He barely turned eighteen last July, he didn't even know how to drive yet, and he was absolutely, most definitely, going to be in trouble for this seven-year old child showing up at his door after running away from home.

He wasn't going to call Linda. But he couldn't keep Leah over. And he didn't know shit about raising children, for the period of time he was going to have Leah over, until he figures out what to do. Remy wanted to scream, how much he wanted to. But he couldn't.

So he did the next best thing he could do. He dropped to the floor and started crying.

He was too tired, physically and emotionally, to pick himself back up at that particular moment.

[idk-my-aesthetic]

so im working on a duck tales fic and this is the first part of the first chapter this is going to be so long help but im just posting it bc i can ig lol so if you wanna read it you can,,,, also for reference theirs a few time jumps and donald is trans so if ages and pronouns don’t make sense thats why

Chapter 1- Donald

Donald huffed as he walked in the hose behind his sister and cousins, slamming the door as he passed the threshold, and grumbling under his breath as he went to sit in the living room.

Grammie raised an eyebrow at him from her rocking chair, looking up from her paper to see what was her “granddaughter’s” problem.

“What’s wrong poppet?” Donald looked up at her and instantly deflated, quickly moving his gaze to the floor to avoid her eyes.

Grammie sighed.

“Della, sweet pea, could you come here a minute?”

Della walked in from the kitchen, munching on an apple. She seemed calm, but anyone who knew her well could tell she was seething under her cool demeanor.

“Mmm?”

“Could ya tell me what’s up with your sister?”

Della took another bite of her apple, sharing a look with her brother before continuing.

“Some kids in town we’re making fun of her speech impediment. She was obviously mad, but she did really well and didn’t blow up on them like you taught her. Even stopped me from going over and kicking their butts.” She looked over at Donald again, waiting for something. Then continued after he hesitantly nodded at her.

“Unfortunately… when we got back she was still mad… and kinda took it out on the azaleas.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “That may be my fault though… I kinda went off on the lemon tree first…”

Grammie sighed and rubbed her eyes.

“Thanks, sweet pea. You and your cousins head outside, and tell them to quit eavesdropping from the kitchen otherwise I’ll make them muck out the cow pen.” There was a crash heard from the kitchen. “Well, Gladstone at least. The smell’s too much for Feathery… and he likes all his other chores too much… maybe I won’t let him shell the peas during the next harvest…”

A loud “What!?” from Feathery was heard from the kitchen before the two came running out.

“Please don't make me clean the cow pen!”

“But I love shelling the peas!”

The six and eight year olds loudly chattered over each other about why they didn't deserve such a harsh punishment for such a small crime, Gladstone trying to blame it on the younger bird and Feathery attempting to use his cuteness as a viable reason not to be punished.

Grammie laughed, cutting them both off.

“How’s about this, y’all head outside, and stop eavesdropping, and I won't punish you. Or tell your parents, Gladstone.”

Both nodded vigorously, Feathery even reaching out to grab Della’s hand and pull her outside with them.

Grammie then turned to face Donald, who was giggling quietly from his spot on the couch. He frowned again once he realized her attention was back on him, looking down in shame.

“I’m going to teach you how to knit.”

Donald looked up at her in surprise.

“What?”

Grammie nodded once, her mind made up, then moved from her rocking chair to sit with him on the couch.

“I'm going to teach you how to knit, and if you get mad, I want you to start knitting. And if you try knitting and it doesn't work, we’ll find you something else, okay? But we gotta get this anger problem under control.” She got a bit of a sly grin, then leaned down to mock whisper something to him. “I’ll have to see if I can find something else for Della, tried to teach that girl once and she almost took her eye out.”

Donald giggled.

“You’re not mad about the azaleas?” he asked in a small voice.

She looked contemplative for a moment, choosing her next words carefully while the seven-year-old squirmed nervously next to her.

“I'm not happy about them, and you’re going to clean up and replant them tomorrow,” She raised her eyebrows at him, and Donald nodded vigorously, “but I’m not going to give you any other punishment for it. Emotions can be hard to control, and you’re still learning. Anger isn’t bad, we just need to make sure we only act on it when necessary, alright?”

Donald nodded.

“And Poppet, I’m proud at you for not flipping on those kids. But next time, call me, and I’ll give them a whooping for you.” She winked at him, earning another smile. “Or let your sister give them a tongue lashing for you.” She got real close to him again. “And if someone really tries to hurt you, or someone else you love, well you have my permission to use that anger to whoop them, kapeesh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***

“Della- ack!” Donald yelped as he almost tripped again, only kept upright by his sister pulling him forward. “Would you slow down?!”

The girl in front of him laughed, not bothered by her twin’s complaints.

“No way sis, there's something I need to show you!”

Donald rolled his eyes, but sped up slightly to match his sister’s speed.

He did fall eventually, but his sister picked him right back up again.

***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on Feathery, just jump in!” Della called from the center of the lake, causing Donald to send her a dirty look from where he was trying to coax the young duck into the water.

Feathery stiffened, and pulled his foot up from where it was just touching the water.

“J-jump? M-maybe I should just go and help Grammie with lunch after all.” Feathery said, starting to slowly scoot away from his spot the edge of the dock Donald had just spent 25 minutes getting him to.

“Really dude? Just get in the lake. You’re too big for the fish to eat.” Gladstone said as he floated past.

“There are fish that eat ducks?!”

Donald rolled his eyes, then tried to morph his face into a relatively soothing expression.

“Ignore them. Fish don’t eat ducks, and you don’t have to jump in. Just slide off the edge, and I’ll catch you. I promise I won’t let you go under, and once you’re in your floaties will protect you and we’ll have tons of fun, okay?”

Feathery flapped his wing, looking nervously at the water.

“Feth, you love the water, just come on in.”

“Can’t I just go get my life vest? And you could teach me to swim next week?” The small duck asked with pleading eyes. This was the third day in a row he’d weaseled his way out of learning to swim.

Donald sighed for a long moment, leaning back in the water until half his head was covered before shooting back up.

“If you come in I’ll dye some of that special yarn you love red and knit you a bracelet to take around with you.” He would have offered to make him a new hat, but Feathery’s current one was made recently enough they couldn't justify wasting the yarn to make a new one.

Feathery perked up at the offer, considering it for a moment before scooting closer to the edge.

“Can you make me one with a lot of lines? And make the stitch really tight so it's better to touch?”

Donald nodded, arms out to catch his cousin.

Feathery hesitated a moment longer, then slid off the dock into his cousin’s arms, grabbing the older duck tightly around the neck.

Della cheered from where she was swimming, accidentally splashing Gladstone. Who then retaliated by dunking her head in the water, starting a rough housing match at the center of the lake.

Feathery continued to hold on tightly to Donald, trying to get closer even as the older duck attempted to gently pry him off.

“Feth, you have floaties, I don’t, so if you hold on to me like this we’ll both just go under!”

The smaller duck whimpered, so Donald half swam them to a nearby sandbank where he could stand.

“Okay, you’re going to let go and I’ll hold you up by your arms, okay?” He told the six-year-old who was still stuck to his chest, holding on like his life depended on it. Feathery shook his head, his face pressed into the crook of his older cousin’s neck, but Donald still slowly removed him, quietly assuring him it was okay, until the only point of contact between the two was Donald holding the younger boy up by his forearms.

After a few minutes Feathery calmed down, reassured by his cousin’s presence and his small arm floaties.

“I'm going to let you go now.”

“Please don’t.”

“You’re fine, you can’t go under.”

Donald placed his cousin back fully in the water, and removed his hands, but stayed close enough so that he could help Feathery if needed.

The small duck started flailing in the water for a bit, splashing Donald in the face, before getting his balance. Though he kept splashing for a minute, even after he was stable.

“Oh.” He said after realizing he wasn't sinking.

“Yeah, oh. Now come on, let's go join Della and Gladstone at the middle of the lake.” Donald said with a small laugh, offering his hand to help pull the younger duck through the water.

Instead of taking his hand, Feathery gave a few practice kicks in the water, then grinned up at him.

“I’m gonna try and swim out myself!”

Donald grinned back.

“Race you!” he said laughing and sending a small wave at Feathery before taking off towards his where his sister and other cousin had delved into an all out splash war.

Feathery spluttered behind him before following after in a kind of improvised doggy paddle, making decent time in the water despite not being able to do any sort of proper stroke.

By dinner time, Feathery ditched even his little arm floaties, and had learned the butterfly stroke, trudgen stroke, breaststroke, and elementary backstroke from Donald, the front crawl and combat side stroke from Della, and how to properly float on his back from Gladstone.

He wouldn't even get out of the water until Grammie threatened to send him to bed without reading him the next chapter of his book, and even then ended up being taken out of the water and back to the house by Della in a fireman’s carry, both of them giggling the whole way back.

~~~~~~~~~~

“{Dσกα།ď} huuuuury uuuup.” Gladstone whined, leaning on his cousin’s shoulders.

Donald’s beak twitched. He was doing his best to ignore his cousin and finish his homework, but the distraction was making it impossible.

“I’m doing my homework.”

“But it's taking forever!”

“Gladstone. I get that everyone’s waiting for me. But you bugging me just makes me take longer.” Donald said through gritted teeth.

Gladstone pouted and sat at the seat next to him.

“Why is it even taking so long? Fourth graders don’t even get that much homework.” Gladstone loved pointing out that since he was a whole year older and already in middle school, he was sooooo much smarter. “And besides, you’re usually done before Della, and she’s already finished all her homework and her chores.”

Donald took a deep breath, trying to both finish his math and get his cousin to leave him alone.

“First, that's a rude thing to ask. Second, Grammie forgot to refill my attention meds and I can’t take them now because then I won’t sleep tonight.”

“Why do you need meds to pay attention?” Gladstone asked, frowning.

“Because I have a brain thing, like Feathery.”

“But Feathery doesn't take attention meds? And wait, does that mean you can't eat certain things or touch people sometimes and all those other kinds of things?”

Donald sighed, and abandoned his homework.

“We have different brain things. I have ADHD and he has ASD. Some of the symptoms overlap, so I have some of the sensory problems he has, but for me at least they're not that bad. Della also has ADHD, her sensory problems are generally a lot worse than mine, but they're kinda different from Feathery’s… it's kinda hard to explain. Different people with the same thing will have similar but different symptoms, different things will usually have their own symptoms but sometimes symptoms could go with multiple things so you just kinda have to see which thing you have the most symptoms for. ADHD is most well known for making you hyperactive and have difficulties focusing, but it can also cause you to hyper focus, have emotional difficulties, have trouble starting and finishing things, and...” Donald trailed off realizing he’d lost his cousin. “Never mind.” He turned back to his homework, slightly embarrassed

Gladstone blinked at him for a second.

“Okay, I think I get it.” He stood up and grinned down at Donald. “I’ma go take care of your chores, and let you focus. And when we get back tonight you can finish explaining all this stuff to me.”

Donald grinned back up at him.

“Works for me.”

Gladstone did a mock salute as he walked out the door to head out to the barn, and Donald got back to work on his math.

He got three questions done in the next ten minutes, before Gladstone walked back in and plopped down in the chair next to him again.

“Knock something over that somehow made all the chores do themselves?”

“Yep.”

“How long you been standing on the porch.”

“Eight minutes… I got bored.”

The two delved into silence again for a few minutes, Donald managing to get two problems done before Gladstone went to open his mouth again.

“Ya know I-”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“You were going to offer to guess the numbers for me, which while it usually works for you the last time we tried that my teacher collected it as a pop quiz and I got a seven percent on it.” Donald looked from his homework. “Wait was the seven your luck mocking me?!”

“No! At least I don’t think so… anyway, it's not my fault you're so unlucky… weren’t you literally hatched on March thirteenth at like thirteen hours or something?”

“One thirteen am, exactly two hours and two minutes after Della, who somehow managed to hatch at eleven eleven.”

Gladstone cocked his head in confusion.

“It's the wish time.”

“Oh.”

The two lapsed into silence again.

“I should give you some of my luck.”

“I literally don't think that's possible.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Girls, could you come here?”  

“One sec, Grammie!” Donald called, placing down a two from his deck, which earned him a loud squawk from Gladstone who was trying to place three kings before he started his turn.

“Seriously!”

Donald stuck his tongue out at his cousin, happy to have blocked the other’s move.

“Girls!”

The twins sighed, each placing down their deck.

“If either of you look at my cards I’m dumping water on your beds.” Della said, glaring at them as she backed out of the room into the kitchen.

“I’ll use milk.” Donald said over his shoulder as he followed her out.

In the kitchen, Grammie was sitting at the table, sorting the mail. In her hand was what seemed to be a normal letter, but it had a very thin wax seal. The twins sat at the table across from her, and Donald tried to get a look at the return address on the letter. She seemed nervous, and it set them on edge.

“This,” She gestured with the letter, “is from your uncle Scrooge.” Donald raised his eyebrows. Scrooge rarely contacted anyone in the family. He’d sort of just show up at random, his arms filled with exotic gifts.

Grammie frowned a bit, seemingly unsure how to continue.

“When your parents... passed, he wanted to take you in. You were already staying here, and I told him it’d be better to let you settle before uprooting you and moving you across the country. But it’s been four years now, and he wants to take you in.” Donald stiffened, the words echoing in his head. Della seemed like she was about to say something, but Donald cut her off.

“So you’re just sending us away?!” He yelled, standing up.

Grammie seemed offended, slamming her hands on the table and straightening her back.

“Of course not! Sit down!” Donald sat slowly, both a bit sheepish for exploding out of nowhere, and still simmering with anger.  He took a breath to calm down.

“Sorry…”

“Hmph.” Grammie nodded, acknowledging the apology. “If you’d let me finish, I was going to say that I wanted to know what you girls think.” She stopped for a moment, running her hand through her hair in thought. “I'm sure you girls have noticed… the farm hasn't been doing too well these past couple years. It’s part of the reason you’re aunt and uncle moved to the city, and why Gladstone’s staying with us now. If you went to live with your uncle… it would definitely help.”

She leaned forward to take one of each of their hands in her own.

“But I don’t want you to feel forced to go. We’re not in that desperate of a situation yet. If worse comes to worst, Gladstone will move back with his parents and Feathery… well, he’ll probably go live with his sister. She’s offered to take them in considering their parents… well, they just don’t know how to take care of him… and they refuse to learn…”

She shook her head.

“I just want you girls to know you have options, okay? And if you choose to go stay with him, or if we have to send off your cousins, you wouldn't be completely separated. You’d be able to call them whenever you want, see them at holidays, and any other time we could get you kids together.”

The twins were silent. Della slipped her hand out of Grammie’s grasp, while Donald just stared down at the table, trying to absorb everything.

“So we’re going to be separated no matter what.” Della said, her voice tinged with anger. It wasn’t a question.

“Not necessarily… but it's likely.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Della’s voice still had her cold anger in it, clipping and freezing the words as they left her mouth.

“Della, you’re children, what was I supposed to do?”

“Tell us!” She stood suddenly, startling her brother. “Sure we may be kids, but maybe we could have gotten jobs, helped out instead of being left in the dark!”

Grammie slowly rose from her seat, looking her granddaughter straight in the eye.

“I wasn't going to ruin your childhoods with money problems. Feathery’s only nine, the two of you are eleven, and Gladstone is twelve. All of you are far too young to be worrying about this. I only told you so you could make your choice knowing all the possibilities.” She took a long breath. “I think we all need to calm down. Send your cousins in a few if they have any questions, I’m sure they heard most of that.”

She took a moment to straighten her clothes, then walked out on the porch, grabbing what Donald dubbed her “smoking purse” on the way out.

Della just stood their, seething. She glared at the door where Grammie had just left from. Donald took her hand.

The two stayed there for a minute, before Donald stood and lead them back to the living room, finding their cousins in the hall. Feathery immediately latched onto Donald, and Della went over to bury her face in Gladstone’s neck.

~~~~~~~~~~

Donald stared as the dog put his and Della’s bags in the back of the limo. It didn’t feel real. It felt like a dream, like tomorrow he’d wake back up in his bed and find out he imagined the last few months and him and Della were never going to leave in the first place.

He sat off on the porch with his sister and cousins, all clinging to each other. Feathery was pressed into his side, and Della laid her head on his shoulder. Gladstone had his arm wrapped around Della, and was holding on to Donald’s hand. None of them wanted to let go.

Grammie, who had been questioning the dog as he loaded the car, walked on up to them and smiled sadly.

“Time to say goodbye.”

The four untangled themselves, and stood. Feathery was obviously holding back tears, but he stepped aside and took a breath.

“I have something for you guys.” He faced Donald first, and pulled out knitted armband. It was white, and somewhat lopsided, with stitches randomly being too tight or loose enough to stick a finger through.

“I tried to make one for you to match mine… it’s not very good, and I wanted to dye it blue but Grammie wouldn't let me but-” He was cut off by Donald pulling him into a hug.

“It's perfect.” he said smiling. They pulled out of the embrace, and Feathery put the bracelet on his wrist, then gave him one more quick hug before going over to Della.

He pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to her. She unfolded and read it, while Feathery nervously looked on. When she got to the end, she grinned, and pulled him into a hug.

“Heh, way to upstage me Feathery,” Gladstone said, “I guess we had the same idea…”

Della raised her eyebrows at him, releasing Feathery from the hug.

“Don’t blame Feathery for your unoriginality.”

He stuck in tongue out at her.

“Whatever, Dumbella, check your bag.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but looked through the satchel around her neck nonetheless. Seeing something Gladstone must have placed in there, she laughed, gave him a hug, and said something to him Donald couldn't hear.

Gladstone whispered something back, and the two laughed again. He released her and walked over to Donald, taking out a pressed four-leaf clover, preserved between two pieces of tape.

“For luck.” He said with a small grin. Donald gently took it, placed it in his pocket, and pulled his cousin into a hug. The two stood for a long minute. They didn’t always get along, and fought the most out of the four, but they loved each other. A lot.

“Come on girls, time to go.” Grammie said softly, one hand on Della’s shoulder.

Gladstone gave Donald a kiss on the top of his head, squeezed him one more time, and let go. Feathery came over and grabbed Gladstone’s hand, wiping away the tears that leaked through his eyes.

Donald grabbed Della’s hand, and the two walked with Grammie to the limo.

“Poppet, why don’t you go check that ya have everything?” Donald slipped his hand out of Della’s, sharing a quick look with her, then walked over to check they had all of their bags, looking at the trunk over the shoulder of the… butler? Chauffeur? Whatever.  

The dog gave him a kind smile, but he just waved in response. The dog shut the trunk, and walked around to get in the driver’s seat.

Donald turned back around to see Della hugging Grammie goodbye. They let go, and Della went to get in the car. She gave him a watery smile as she walked past.

Donald nodded back, and walked over to say goodbye to Grammie. She instantly pulled him into a hug, and kissed the top of his head.

“Y'all be good for your uncle Scrooge now, alright?” Donald nodded into the embrace. Grammie gave him another kiss on the top of his head, then held him at arm’s length, looking him over.

“I have somethin for ya too.” She said, pulling out a set of knitting needles, a small notebook, and a pouch from her purse.

“The pouch is a sewing kit, and the notebook has directions on how to make a loom, and written tips from me from all my years of sewing, knitting, and weaving. As well as a good handful of patterns.” She handed the two things to him, then held up the needles so he could see them better. “I’ve had these since I was a little girl. My pa made them for me. I want you to have them now.” She took his hand and placed them in it, carefully closing his fingers around them.

Donald stared at the needles, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, he hugged his Grammie again, trying to hold back his tears.

“Don’t cry Poppet, we’ll see each other again soon.” She gave him one last kiss, and let go. Donald wiped his eyes

“I love you Grammy.” He said with a small smile, then went to get in the car with Della. As soon as he sat down, she put her head on his shoulder. He got himself settled, buckling and putting the things his family gave him in his bag, then wrapped his arm around his sister, preparing for the five-hour drive ahead.

[clexagiraffesandbrittana319]

Dancer Preview

About six months ago I teased a Prompt I was REALLY excited about. WELL I would like to share the FIRST chapter of that with you! It will be posted to Ao3 soon-ish. Until then... this is what I’m calling Dancer (for now.) Hope you enjoy.

Clarke Griffin sat in her Painting between Realism and Abstract Class, trying her best to keep her eyes opened. It was ten in the morning and she, Raven and Harper had been out till nearly three AM. It was the last week of school before spring break so parties were already happening. Nia, her professor whom was one of those just call me by my first name types, was going over their final projects.

“Any questions?” She asked.

Harper raised her hand.

“Harper?”

“So any form of movement?” Harper asked.

“Yes, but just one and only one model” Nia nodded.

“But multiple paintings?” Harper clarified.

“At least three, no more than five” Nia answered.

“Got it… dibs on Raven,” She leaned over and whispered to Clarke.

“What? No fair!”  Clarke huffed, she had been banking on going with Raven to her MMA class and using her as her model.

“I already asked her anyways, you can ask Octavia” Harper said.

“She’s my best friend!” Clarke wined.

“You like O” Harper said “she does jiu jitsu as well as MMA, it will be cool.”

“Why don’t you do O?” Harper asked.

“Because” was all Harper would say.

“Fine” Clarke sighed.

“Well, then I am done here. You can either stay and sketch or go” Nia said, “Have a great vacation I will see you in two weeks.”

“Two weeks!” Harper said, “I’m so excited.”

“Me too” Clarke said. “Though I still have one more class today… and two tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you do today, Jaha isn’t here anymore.” Harper said as they walked out of the room.

“No?” Clarke asked.

“Nope, big sign on the door… he left after his intro to drawing class, the advance classes are cancelled.”

“Thank god I need a nap, can I go back to Ludlow with you?”

“I’m going to go to the library” Harper said.

“Can I go back there and nap?” Clarke asked. “I don’t want to go all the way back uptown.”

“Yeah no problem, I will be back in a few hours.”

“Sweet, wake me when you get there?” Clarke smiled sweetly.

“Kay, see you.” Harper said.

Ludlow was one of the on campus housing buildings and Harper had a single. Clarke often hung out there when she had time in between classes or when Raven was gone for the night.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Raven: Are we going to Grounder tonight?

Grounder was a bar that was near her and Raven’s apartment, they often hung out there.

Raven: 2 for 1 cause it’s ladies night!

Clarke: Sounds good to me Im currently getting ready to nap at Harpers… by the way… why did you tell her you would be her subject for our painting final?!?! IM YOUR best friend Rae!

Raven: She asked me, I didn’t know it was something you had to do too. I can tell her no…

Clarke: No it’s fine. I will just see if Octavia will do it…

Raven: I’m sure she will…

Clarke: I think she will too. But… im just more comfortable with you. Yeah she’s one of my good friends now but I was her friend threw you first… I don’t want it to be weird.

Raven: You’re not proposing, just asking if you can paint her.

Raven: … Ohhhhh I see it now, that does sound a little creepy.

Raven: Can I paint you like one of my French girls Octavia? Hahahaha.

Clarke: Going to sleep now. Bye ass.

Raven: When you coming home?

Clarke: I will be home when you get home.

Raven: I will be home at 2:15 just so you know.

Clarke: Check. goodnight… I love you.

Raven: Yeah yeah…

Raven: I love you too Whore 

Clarke walked into Grounder that night, she had gotten there a little after Raven and Harper.

“Hey” Clarke said walking to the booth where her friends were.

“Lots of people here tonight” Raven said.

“Yeah” Harper said. “Newbies it looks like.”

“Spring break I think” Clarke said, “Bringing a lot of people in…”

“Hey people” Octavia said walking over with her arm in a sling.

“What did you do?” Raven asked her.

“Oh Lincoln threw me against a wall…” the tall dark haired girl said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Ya know, you really shouldn’t justify relationship abuse” Raven shook her head with a laugh.

“Shut up” Octavia said. “We were in the gym sparring and he flipped me and I twisted and landed against the wall, it’s my Collarbone.”

“Broken?” Clarke asked.

“Yep” Octavia nodded.

“Jesus and you’re here?” Harper laughed.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad” Octavia shook her head brushing it off.

“How long are you out of the ring?” Raven asked.

“Like a month or so, probably. Maybe more…” Octavia shrugged, “Fucking pisses me off so much.”

“Well maybe you can’t paint her like one of your French girls” Raven said to Clarke.

Harper laughed so hard she almost spit her drink out.

“What?” Octavia asked.

“It’s for a final project; we have to paint movement in some form. Harper stole Raven so I was going to ask you.” Clarke explained.

“I’m sorry” Octavia said. “I’m sure Lincoln or Indra would be down, oh or Lexa do you know Lex?”

Clarke shook her head.

“Yeah she’s my best friend, ballerina and shit too, that could be cool to paint, right?” Octavia said.

“Yeah cool and not at all weird to ask a complete stranger to be your model” Clarke laughed.

“Lexa is gorgeous” Raven said, “You should totally paint her.”

“You know her?” Clarke asked.

“Yeah she takes jiu jitsu with us sometimes” Raven sipped her drink.

“A ballerina takes jiu jitsu?” Harper asked.

“Yeah, it’s good for her coordination and shit” Octavia said. “She’s coming tomorrow you should come, I will introduce you.”

“Okay, sounds good” Clarke said.

Lexa just finished her last ballet class of the day, “Great class guys” Dianna said as Lexa walked over to her stuff and grabbed her water bottle.

“What are you doing tonight?” Becca asked taking a drink of her water as well.

“Nothing, going home showering and going to bed.”

“I hear it's ladies night at Grounder, wanna go?”

“No, I have class at--”

“Nine AM, I know I am in all the same classes you know” Becca smiled. “You could stand to have a little fun Lexa.”

“I do have fun” Lexa said. “Tomorrow I go to jiu jitsu.”

Becca just shook her head. Lexa had been a principal dancer at ABT for four years now and took it very seriously.

“You know, as long as I have been here I don’t think I have ever seen you let loose, not even a little” Becca said. “You don’t even take the contemporary class.”

“I don’t see the need for it” Lexa shrugged.

“It’s fun and another form of dance, just because it isn’t required or as disciplined as ballet” Becca said. “Let that hair down, Alexandria.”

Lexa just smiled, “I will see you in class tomorrow.”

She grabbed her dance bag and headed out the door. She couldn’t help it, it’s not that she didn’t want to make friends it was just… harder for her. She had always attributed it to the way she was raised, or wasn’t for the first part of her life. She grew up in a group home in San Francisco California until she was fourteen, that’s when her older sister Anya turned eighteen and was able to take guardianship of her. Anya and ballet were all she ever had; the friends part was harder for her, though she had a few close friends now that she lived in New York. Her best friend was Octavia Blake, whom she met through a jiu jitsu class she happened upon three years ago. Another instructor there named Indra, who was a few years older than she was, was also her friend, and now Octavia’s friend Raven, whom she liked pretty well so her circle was expanding. Since Costia though she just didn’t do much… going out.

“Hello” She said walking into her and Anya’s loft.

“Hi” Anya said, “How was dance?”

“Good, I took seven classes today.”

“Good lord Lexa, Why?” Anya laughed.

“I gotta keep in shape” Lexa shrugged. “We don’t have any performances we are working on right now, so we just take class all day... Anyhow, how was your day?”

“Good, I had court for an eight year old little girl who is getting placed permanently this week.” Anya told her.

“Wonderful” Lexa said opening the fridge.

“I made your dinner it’s in the oven keeping warm” Anya told her.

Lexa pulled the plate out of the oven, and removed the foil to see a piece of salmon, green beans and roasted sweet potatoes.

“Thank you,” Lexa said sitting down on the bar stool.

“Your welcome” Anya said.

Lexa’s phone beeped from her dance bag, “Do you want me to grab that for you?” Anya asked.

“If you don’t mind” Lexa nodded taking a bite of food.

Anya handed her the phone a moment later and she checked the message, it was from Octavia.

Octavia: Hey, my friend Clarke is in art school and she has to do her final project on Art and Movement or whatever… She was going to ask me but I broke my collarbone and am out for a month or so. I told her she should ask you since you do ballet and shit can I give her your number?

Lexa: Ballet and shit… Nice.

Lexa: What does she have to do, just draw me?

Octavia: Yeah, I think paint you dancing…

“That’s weird” Lexa said aloud.

“What is?” Anya asked.

“It was Octavia. Apparently a friend of hers has to do a final for Art School on movement and since O broke her collarbone she suggested she paint me.”

“That sounds pretty cool actually, to have someone paint you dancing,” Anya said.

“You don’t think it is… weird, I don’t know her” Lexa shrugged.

“I think you need to meet new people, Lex.”

Lexa thought about it for a moment then texted Octavia back.

Lexa: Sure you can give her my number, yeah.

Clarke crawled into bed around eleven thirty that night, she had decided not to stay out too late since the night before they had closed down the bar and she was exhausted. She put her phone on her nightstand and plugged it in, when she remembered Octavia had given her the number of that girl… Lexa. She grabbed her phone and found the number and sent her a text.

Clarke: Hi, this is Clarke Griffin. Octavia gave me your number.

She felt like she should have said more but didn’t know what to say, this way at least the girl had her info as well. She put her phone down and rolled over to close her eyes when her phone beeped.

Lexa: Hi Clarke, I am Lexa. It’s nice to… meet you … I guess… kinda.

Clarke: It’s nice to kinda meet you too. :) I hope I didn’t wake you…

Lexa: Nope, I was just stretching before bed.

Stretching, this girl was dedicated Clarke thought.

Clarke: Always on ballerina mode?

Lexa: I guess you could say that.

Clarke: How long have you been dancing?

She didn’t know why she kept the conversation going, but it felt… natural.

Lexa: Since I was eight, I have been with ABT for four years now.

Clarke: Wow… Octavia said you were a ballerina but I didn’t realize you were like a real ballerina and shit… ABT that’s a major company.

Lexa: Yes, yes it is. Ballet is kind of my job :)

Clarke: Well Im sure you’re amazing then, if you don’t have time for this I completely understand…

Lexa: I think I will, what all will it entail?

Clarke: I need to paint you dancing. So I would need to watch you dance… come to classes if possible… maybe even do some one on one things so I can sketch a bunch of stuff out pre-paint.

Lexa: That sounds doable.

Clarke: Great… do you want to meet for coffee tomorrow sometime to talk?

Lexa: I could do coffee, when are you free. I have a window between two and four PM, and then am available after seven.

Clarke: I have class till 1:30. so I could do 2… But I could also do later tomorrow night… Whatever you prefer.

Lexa: I’m done with jiu jitsu at seven.

Clarke: I can meet you there after and we can head to coffee or even dinner at that point? Raven is going to be there tomorrow… I think… so I’ll know where I’m going.

Lexa: You know Raven?

Clarke: Yes, She’s my best friend… since we were nine. You know Rae?

She knew she did, why did she ask that?

Lexa: Just threw Octavia and jiu jitsu, yes.

Clarke: Ohhhhh that makes sense.

Lexa: Okay, so I will see you tomorrow then.

Clarke: Sounds good.

Lexa: Okay well I should get to bed, I have ballet at nine tomorrow morning.

Clarke: Yeah… I have class at eight. See you tomorrow Lexa.

Lexa: Goodnight Clarke.

Lexa woke the next morning around six and went into the kitchen, Anya was up drinking a cup of coffee already, “Morning.”

“Morning” Lexa smiled.

“Ballet early?” Anya asked.

“Nine is class, but I am going to get there early and dance,” Lexa told her.

“Okay” Anya said.

“I won’t be home for dinner tonight” Lexa said pouring water into the tea kettle.

Anya just looked at her to continue.

“After jiu jitsu tonight I’m going to go to dinner with Clarke” Lexa said her name as if they had been friends always.

“Clarke?” Anya asked.

“Octavia’s friend, the art student.”

“You’re going to dinner?” Anya asked, “I thought she was going to paint you dancing…”

“She is” Lexa nodded, “But she asked if I wanted to go to coffee or dinner to talk about things.”

“When did you talk to her?”

“Last night, we texted before bed” Lexa told her.

“You texted her?” Anya asked with a look.

“Yes” Lexa nodded putting a slice of bread in the toaster. “What’s with you why are you acting all weird?”

“I’m not… I’m just well... glad.” Anya said.

“That I texted her, or that I am going to dinner with her?�� Lexa asked.

“Both” Anya smiled, noting that Lexa was looking in the fridge. “I ate the half of avocado that was in there.”

Lexa shut the refrigerator and glared at her.

“Relax there is a new one” Anya pointed to the hanging fruit basket.

“Thank you” Lexa said walking over to the basket and rising up on her tiptoes to get it.

“Of course you had to relevé to get it” Anya laughed.

“I almost piqued to it, but ya know” Lexa said with a smirk.

“Too much for six am?”

“Maybe slightly” she shrugged.

“I’m surprised you aren’t in your leotard and tights already” Anya sipped her coffee.

“Too early” Lexa said mashing up the avocado and putting it on her toast. “I don’t want to get them all avocado-ey”

“I don’t think that’s a word dear sister” Anya laughed.

“Oh well” Lexa shrugged, “Do you know if my black leo is clean?”

“That narrows your question down to about three hundred leotards, Alexandria” Anya rolled her eyes.

“The new strappy one... I put it in the laundry room yesterday and you said ‘I will wash that for you’.”

“Then yes, it’s in the clean laundry basket at the foot of your bed” Anya said.

“You are the best!” Lexa said kissing her sisters cheek before she Chaîné turned to get a glass from the cupboard.

“I’m aware of that fact” Anya said. “I gotta shower and then get to the office; I will see you tonight then.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what time but not late though I am sure.”

“Have a good time Lexa, be a normal twenty four year old for once instead of a prima ballerina.”

Lexa just scoffed as Anya went up the stairs.

“WHY?” Raven yelled Clarke’s alarm went off.

“Because unlike you, I have classes today” Clarke said sitting up wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Turn it off and lay back down and snuggle me back to sleep!” Raven wined.

Clarke wasn’t sure when Raven ended up in her bed, but she wasn’t surprised waking up beside her. Raven often ended up in her bed.

“Rae, I have to go to class!” Clarke said firmly, as she snuggled back in next to her.

“What are we doing tonight?” Raven asked yawning.

“I’m going to dinner with Lexa,” Clarke said.

“You are?” Raven asked.

“Yes, I texted her last night and we talked a little. We decided to go to dinner tonight after she’s done with jiu jitsu and talk more.”

“You like her!” Raven said.

“I don’t know her Raven, so I can hardly like her” Clarke laughed.

“Well you will, she is gorgeous and nice, she’s quiet though… very serious.”

“That doesn’t sound like my type at all” Clarke shook her head.

“You just wait and see” Raven smiled with her eyes closed.

Clarke kissed her forehead, “Okay crazy, we’ll see. But I gotta get up and get ready now.”

“Booo” Raven said.

“If you wanted a snuggle buddy you should’ve brought O back, you know I have class” Clarke said.

“She went to Lincoln’s” Raven mumbled.

“Well then we need to get you a snuggle buddy” Clarke said.

“I have you” Raven said.

“Well I have to go, if you’re still in bed in three hours then I will snuggle you more.”

“I will be” Raven informed her.

Clarke laughed, “Of course you will be.”

“Come get in bed with me when you get home?” Raven asked.

“Yes, love… Will do, Goodbye I love you.”

“Love you, butt head” Raven mumbled from underneath her blankets.

“Balancé, balance, pique…through, double pirouette, land then triple. You’re going to add that onto the combination we just did, have it?” Hannah asked the class.

Lexa loved barre and floor, it was her favorite class.

“Good” Hannah said, “group A on the floor first.” The music started and Hannah counted, “And five, six, seven, eight.”

Lexa absolutely loved everything about ballet, from the discipline down to the smallest movement, she felt free and control all at the same time when she danced.

“Becca, turn out!” Hannah hollered as they danced. “Shoulders down Bree.” “Very nice Lexa!”

The combination came to an end and Lexa walked off the floor as the other group walked onto it. She grabbed her water bottle off the ground by the bar taking a sip. Becca was leaned with her back against the ballet bar, and looked over to Lexa. “Want to go to TonDC tonight?”

“Can’t” Lexa whispered, not taking her eyes off the other girls. She wasn’t much for talking while in class and Becca knew that, but she didn’t care.  

“Why? Come on Lexa, you never do anything fun…”

“I told you I have jiu jitsu tonight” She said quietly. “Plus after I’m going out to dinner with… a friend.”

Sure Clarke wasn’t really a friend yet, but she more than likely would be, Lexa thought.

“Okay, well we need to make plans for this weekend” Becca said.

“I’ll see what I can do” Lexa nodded and then glanced to the wall to check the clock for the time. That’s when she saw her, standing there at the viewing window. Her stomach dropped, Costia. She knew she would have to see her after the breakup, whenever Costia came back to the city, but it always took her by surprise.

“Costia” Hannah smiled when she turned around and saw her, “Come in here.”

Great.

“How are you?” Hannah asked the girl.

“I’m well” Costia smiled.

“Great, are you here for the spring preview week?”

“Yes” She nodded. “Then back to Europe.”

Costia was selected as one of the principal dancers to go to Europe for four years, to preform and study there. It was a new program they were offering at ABT, and one of the main reasons their relationship had ended… Well That and the fact that Costia decided it would be fun to sleep with Maddie, another Lead at ABT, before they left.

“Come take class?” Hannah asked.

“I don’t have shoes or anything, but I’d love to watch…” Costia said eyeing Lexa whom was trying her best to avoid any sort of eye contact.

“That would be great, stay, sit.” Hannah said.

“Hey” Clarke said as she slid back into bed with Raven, who just as she promised, was in bed still when she got home.

“Hi” Raven rolled over and brushed the dark hair out of her face, so she could see Clarke.

“Today sucked” Clarke sighed.

“Oh no, why?”

“I will give you three guesses, and you more than likely won’t need the last two…”

“Why is he such a douchebag? What happened?” Raven sighed.

“He asked if he could come over here tonight…” Clarke rolled her eyes.

“The fuck… Why?!” Raven asked.

“Because he’s Finn… I mean really there is no other explanation necessary. I told him I wouldn’t be home, and then he said… well Rae will be right?”

“Um, yeah… no.” Raven scoffed. “Why did either of us sleep with him, ever?”

“I don’t know, and the fact that he got away with sleeping with the both of us for three weeks really still pisses me off” Clarke nearly growled.

“Right, he’s so proud of himself for it too, like he slept with best friends and we didn’t put it together for nearly a month!” Raven said.

Clarke snuggled into her best friends side and sighed. “So if he comes around here tonight while I’m gone, don’t let him in.”

“Eeww never,” Raven said “and I won’t be here.”

“Where are you going?”

To TonDC, Harper Octavia and I are going… You should meet us after you go to dinner with Lexa.”

“Maybe I will, I can see if she wants to come as well…”

Raven laughed, “Lexa won’t come to Ton!”

“Why?” Clarke asked.

“Because she’s Lexa, she doesn’t do things like that. She’s all ballet, seriously… jiu jitsu is her fun.”

“Well, that sounds like a challenge” Clarke said with an eyebrow wiggle.

“Clarke Abigail Griffin” Raven said. “I don’t think you can crack this one…”

“We’ll see” Clarke said.

Lexa had just gotten done with her class at two and booked it out of the studio while Hannah was talking to Costia, because the last thing she wanted to do was to have to stop and make small talk with her ex.

She got to her car and checked her phone, pleasantly surprised to see she had a few texts from Clarke.

Clarke: Hi! looking forward to meeting you tonight. Raven and O both tell me great things… Where do you want to go for dinner?

And another

Clarke: I’m going to just come to class with Rae and hang out there, so I will see you at 5:30.

She smiled, unsure of why this stranger was causing her to smile, but shrugged it off and texted her back.

Lexa: I’m looking forward to it as well, Clarke. I’m game for pretty much anything for dinner. What do you feel like?

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

“She texted me back” Clarke said. Her and Raven we’re still curled up in bed, watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer on Netflix.

“Why are you so excited?” Raven asked. “You don’t even know this girl, or what she looks like?”

“Why does it have to be about looks, can’t I just be excited to make a new friend?”

“Why do you need new friends? I’m all you’ll ever need, Clarke” Raven said.

Clarke laughed, then checked her text and replied.

Clarke: What’s your favorite kind of food?

“Why is it always Cordy who is getting chased by the monsters? She’s always in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Raven said.

“It’s Cordelia, what do you expect? And I think that Zander has had it pretty bad too, he always falls for these women who turn out to be insects or something supernatural” Clarke said. “Then you have the whole Anya thing…”

Raven laughed, “You’re right.”

Lexa: Mexican, but not from here. West coast Mexican food.

“She’s from the west coast?” Clarke looked to raven excited.

“Yeah… San Fran I think.” Raven said.

Clarke: Oh god, I know just what you mean… worst part of leaving southern Cali was giving up the Mexican food…

Lexa: You’re from the west coast too? that’s crazy.

Clarke: Yes! I don’t miss it too much, just the beach and mexican food…  

Lexa: Agree. What’s your favorite thing to eat over here?

Clarke: Either… Pizza or… Chinese.

Lexa: Lets do pizza?

Clarke: Sounds great. You wanna go to Tipsy Tomato?

Lexa: never been there, but sounds great.

Clarke: We have to then... it’s one of my favorites.

Lexa: That works for me. I will see you in a little bit then. Are you taking class?

Clarke: UM No!!!! Just watching.

Lexa: Why not? Scared? ;)

Clarke: I have ZERO coordination… believe me.

“Seriously, Cordelia… don’t go in there!!!!!” Raven yelled at the Tv.

Clarke laughed, “You’ve seen this episode at least ten times, you know she does!”

Lexa: Okay, I just got done with Ballet and have time to kill before class.

Clarke: Are you there already?

Lexa: No, I’m going to try and sneak back into the studio and dance some more. But there is someone I really don’t want to run into.

Clarke: Who?

Lexa: My ex-girlfriend.

“Is Lexa a lesbian or bisexual?” She looked to Raven.

Raven shrugged, “I’m pretty sure she’s a lesbian, does it matter?”

“Not one bit, just curious” Clarke shook her head.

“SERIOUSLY CORDY!!!! NO!!” Raven shook her head.  

Clarke: Eeww, exes are the worst.

Lexa: Agreed.

Clarke: Rae and I are watching Buffy in bed, being completely lazy. So props to you if you go dance.

Lexa: I don’t know if I will to be honest.

Lexa: I’ve never seen Buffy.

Clarke: WHAT? We MUST fix that! And I’m sorry… I could tell you wanted to dance…  How long were you and this girl together?

Lexa: two years, and it’s okay. I have already danced for six hours today.

Lexa: And okay, I’m up for watching it.

Clarke: SIX HOURS, good lord Lexa… And two years is a good chunk of time. When did you break up?

Lexa: a year ago, I’ve totally moved on. I just don’t want to see her.

Clarke: That’s understandable…... I just saw my ex today. He’s an ass.

Lexa: I’m sorry.

Clarke: It’s okay. But he really is the worst… its a long story, I will tell you in person sometime if you ever want to know… lets stop talking about our exs for now though.

Lexa: Gladly, what would you like to talk about Clarke?

Clarke and Lexa ended up texting for over an hour. Lexa never went back into the studio partly because she was afraid of running into Costia, also because she was really enjoying texting with Clarke. She was so easy to talk to, though she didn’t know why, she didn’t question it.

Clarke: Are you here?

Lexa: Almost, are you there already?

Clarke: Yeah we just got here… Octavia and Rae are being mean and said they weren’t going to point you out to me... and I had to guess who you were.

Lexa: I’ll come say hi when I get there, I promise.

Clarke: :) I have really enjoyed texting you today.

Clarke: I’m looking forward to hanging out w/you tonite

Lexa: Same. I’m pulling in.

Clarke: Okay.

Clarke had no idea why she was so nervous, she and Lexa had texted for over an hour about tons of things, she already felt like she knew this girl.

“She’s here” She said to Raven. “She just pulled up.”

“Are you texting her?” Octavia asked.

“They have been texting alllll afternoon” Raven told Octavia.

“I seriously think you two would be amazing together” Octavia said. “Lexa needs someone like you, Clarke.”

Clarke blushed slightly, and rolled her eyes. “Guys we’re just meeting… slow down.”

Octavia looked to the door and Clarke looked to see one of the most gorgeous women she had ever seen walking in the door. She was tall and Clarke thought she looked like a Greek goddess, her chestnut curls were pulled up into a ponytail, and she was wearing a pair of charcoal grey yoga pants that sat low at her hip bones, and stopped before her ankles. On top she wore a black tank top with a sports bra on underneath it that didn’t make it all the way down to the top of her pants, so she could see a perfect amount of skin. Clarke couldn’t take her eyes off her perfect shoulders and neck. She stood tall and it was noticeable she was a ballerina from the way she held herself even as she walked.

“Hi” Lexa said walking right up to her, pulling her out of her mini-trance. “Clarke?”

“Hey” Clarke nodded. “Lexa?”

Lexa smiled slightly and Clarke couldn’t not stare into her perfectly green eyes, but shook herself out of it, and hugged the slightly taller girl standing in front of her.

“Nice to meet you in person” She said.

“You also” Lexa said letting her hands wrap around the blonde. Normally she would find this extremely awkward as she wasn’t a touchy feely person, but for some reason with the gorgeous blonde in her arms, it felt natural. “Hi” She said to Octavia once she had let go of Clarke.

“Hey” Octavia said giving her the regular side hug she normally did.

“I didn’t think you’d be here” Lexa gestured to her arm.

“I can’t do much I’m going to hang with Clarke, and watch.”

“Watch Lincoln” Raven clarified.

“Hi Raven” Lexa said to the smaller brunette.

“Hey Lexa” Raven smirked at her, as if to say I know what you’ve been doing all day.

“How was dance?” Octavia asked Lexa.

“Great, well… for the most part” Lexa looked to Clarke.

“Did you ever see her again?” Clarke asked.

“No” Lexa said, “Thank god.”

“Right? I get that,” Clarke smiled.

“Wait what?” Octavia asked.  

“Costia, I’ll fill you in later” Lexa said.

“You’d better!” Octavia smiled.

“I gotta go put my bag down and get my shoes off, I’ll see you after class.” Lexa smiled to the blonde.

“I’ll go with” Raven said and then both girls headed onto the floor.

“What was that?” Octavia asked.

“What?” Clarke asked.

“She just... full on gave you eyes. I haven’t seen Lexa give anyone eyes… ever. And I had seen her when she was with Costia.”

Clarke shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Mmmhmmm” Octavia smirked, “She likes you! What did you guys talk about today?”

“A lot of stuff… her childhood, her sister Anya, Ballet and Costia.”

“Lexa? You were talking to Lexa right?” Octavia asked sounding surprised.

“Yes Octavia… why?” Clarke asked.

“I didn’t even hear about her childhood until we had been friends for like a year… she’s just very, reserved.”

“She was quite open about it today” Clarke shrugged. “Who’s teaching today, Linc?” She asked changing the subject.

“Indra” Octavia shook her head.

“She scares me” Clarke smiled.

“Careful then, she loves Lexa, and kinda… looks out for her.”

“Oh great” Clarke said.

“You DO like her!” Octavia smiled.

“Shut up, Octavia!” Clarke rolled her eyes.

Thoughts? This is just a preview, this story WILL be posted on AO3 within the next month or so. (I have to get some of my other projects finished before I post this and I would like to have it Completed or very close before I post. Though I do have a lot written!) 

Much love to you all, and as ALWAYS thank you for ALL your support!