#erm. dirk hair :/ :/ :/

[dratya]

oli n sausge Pietersite fusion that im not really liking but its whatever!!!

[heygerald]

just wondering how you'd imagine parker looking for some

... erm

entirely not fanart related reasons dot dot dot... 😁..

The scream I just screamed in the lab was psychotic...

In my vision for her I see a brunette, dark, thick hair that gets lighter streaks in the summer hanging all the way down her back. She's never been all that good at styling, so it's lucky she's blessed with silky, thick hair that braids well and makes for great messy buns. Every odd year she attempts bangs, which actually look really good on her thin face, but she's too busy to remember to cut them, so they always grow out at messy intervals. She's got freckles splattered across her nose, murky green eyes, and a delicate bow mouth. And though she doesn't actively work out she has a slender frame, roughly her brother's height, long legs that are always just a bit too leggy for regular length pants. Her style is as chaotic as her store; cargo shorts with a tube top during the summer, cotton overalls with a sweater during the winter, and converse almost every day of the year.

I know fcs can ruin a mental image for readers, so I've included some below the cut:

These are no means accurate, even in my head she's a fluid character constantly changing, but I'd say Parker the closest actress I could imagine would be Dkota Johnson or Hannah Marks? Something in the middle? Definitely Dakota's hair, but maybe Hannah's chaotic persona as seen in Dirk Gently?

You all spoil me ❤️

[ultimatelyunassuming]

You stare at the green cladded man that stands before you, gawking at him. You know it's unbecoming of the potential future queen of Skaia to gawk, but can you blame yourself? This embassary of the Sylvan Court, you think he introduced himself as Jake, looks a shockingly good deal like you. His hazel eyes, his jet black hair, his dark skin, the way he holds himself, hell your height is even the same! You want to say it's a trick, a shocking coincidence, anything other than him being as clearly related to you, but you know this isn't a trick. He's human, it's clear as day from how he flaunts his name like it's something to be proud of owning, no fairy would be as willing to share his identity as Jake is.

"Dirk?"

"Yes?" Dirk looks just as surprised as you are, though he masks it extremely well. If you didn't grow up with him, you're sure you couldn't tell how baffled he is.

"Is he...?" You vaguely gesture at him then at you. "You know?"

"I don't know, but I'm inclined to say yes."

"Erm...." Jake clears his throat. "I can hear you."

"Yes, we know that," Dirk says, shifting back into the cold professionalism that he holds while acting as your personal advisor. "We are just surprised about how many similarities you hold with Princess Jane. It's quite a shocking coincidence."

"Yes, it is!" Jake agrees. "Mayhaps we're doppelgangers? That'd be a hoot!"

A part of you wants to shout that no, this can't be a coincidence, this must be a political ploy of the Sylvan Court to get a horse in the race that is the tussle for the Skaian crown that you've been fighting with Feferi and Meenah. You want to pull out your hair and scream, you want to throw off your crown and have it shatter against the ground, you want to do SOMETHING other than face the fact that someone else now has legitimacy to YOUR throne.

"What is your reason for being here?" You say, trying to keep your voice even and calm.

"Of course, your majesty!" Jake bows, his multicolored coat swishing as he does so. "My lord, you may call him Lord English, wishes to establish a stronger connection to his kingdom and yours. He figures that it'd be best to send a human instead of a fae, as a show of peace and generosity."

"You've misinterpreted my words." Dirk shoots you a warning glance that you blatantly ignore. "Why are you here?"

"Ah, well," Jake shifts his focus away from you and down to the ground. "I've been living in the Feywilds for most of my life. For as long as I was in the Feywilds, I was working for the Royal Court as my Lord's personal entertainer. Because of my history with my Lord, I am the only person he deemed worthy enough to send out on this mission."

You feel your face twitch. You open your mouth to retort, but Dirk cuts you off. "What my princess means to convey, is that she wants to know if you have any personal reasons for taking this mission."

"Oh! That's what you mean." Jake laughs. "My apologies, I'm used to taking everything literally, since, you know, I live with fairies. I don't really have any personal reasons for taking this mission.... I guess I accepted this request from my Lord because I'd like to meet more humans! There isn't a lot of them where I'm from, and It'd be nice if I made friendships outside of the Feywilds. Maybe I could even have a pen pal! I've always wanted a pen pal."

You turn to Dirk. "Is he lying?" You whisper.

"Not that I can tell," He whispers back. "That doesn't sound like the full truth, but that's more of an assessment of his words than anything else."

You nod and turn to the jester. "So, Jake, have you heard about the recent power struggle in this court?"

You see Jake knit his temples together. "What now?"

"The ongoing political situation with Skaia," Dirk chimes in. "Queen Crocker was thought to be dead, and Jane, being the only known heir, was going to ascend to the throne. Then, at Jane's coronation, Queen Crocker returned with two more heirs, and now the rest of the Court is trying to decide who will become our future queen."

"Oh. Well, that sounds like a mess and a half for this kingdom to deal with!" Jake shakes his head. "I wish you luck with this tussle, your majesty."

You feel your anger deflate as he says that. "Pardon me?"

"I wish you good luck?" Jake repeats.

"It's a term that means he wishes for your success," Dirk says.

You wave Dirk. "Yes, yes, I know what it means. Jake, you're not at all interested in this political matter?"

Jake nods. "Yeah? To be honest, I didn't even know about it until now!"

"And you don't want to join in on this political matter?"

"Not really. Being a court jester is enough royalty for me!"

You turn to Dirk.

"He's telling the truth, he's not interested in the throne."

You let out a breath, sinking deeper into your chair. "Thank the gods above and the spirits below."

"Is... Not being interested in politics something to be excited about?" Jake asks.

"No, oh heavens no. I just assumed that you were a secret fourth heir to the Crocker throne, and you were here to take it and give it to the Sylvan Court."

"Oh. No. No! Dear Oberon, no! I would never do such a thing. To imagine, me, a king! I could never." He glances down, smiling to himself. "And besides, I'm not even royalty, I was just a farmers boy who got lost in the woods. Nothing to be afraid of, I am just here in Lord English's stead."

"I see that now," you murmur. "Casey, please escort Jake to a guest room. Treat him like how you'd treat a prince. And Jake, I deeply apologize for how I treated you earlier, it was unbecoming of me."

"Oh, it's absolutely no problem! Consider this all water under the bridge. Until we meet again!" Jake gives you a bow and follows Casey out of the throne room.

"Woof. That was embarrassing." You cover your face and shake your head, both relieved and embarrassed. "And to think, he was some long lost twin of mine! Only a farmer's son, goes to show how paranoid I'm getting after those trolls came here."

"He was lying."

You look up from your hands. "What did you say."

Dirk stares at the doorway Jake exited, his lips a thin line on his face. "He was lying about him being a farmer's son."

"How can you tell?"

"He looks down whenever he's trying to figure out what to say."

You hum to yourself. How peculiar.

[xbunnybunz]

Stride of Luck (13/?) [Dave Strider X Reader X Bro Strider]

Summary:

You find an unconscious Dave Strider in a desolate street and allow him to crash at your place, only to find out that he's come all the way from Texas to find his bro, Dirk Strider.

What seems like an easy task soon evolves into something much more complicated when you finally locate Dirk, and realize three things. One, Dave is hot as fuck. Two, Dirk is also hot as fuck. Three, they have the same taste in girls.

“i warned you about the striders, bro. i told you dog!”

Genre: Romance, Humor, Angst, Slow Burn

Author's Note: moving some stuff over from AO3 to here so my readers feel more comfy interacting with me directly <3

The bouncer glowers at you from over Dirk’s shoulder, clearly upset with the dope connections you had that prevented him from stomping Shawna and Tracy into the cement. Regardless of the societal standards one would hold a bouncer to regarding kicking the shit out of a patron for personal, hat-related reasons, you don’t really trust him to follow them.

You keep a watchful eye on him (and Adam, who was perched languidly on the curb) as Dirk and Dave stand before you.

“I knew you were a kicker, Dave. But I’ll be damned.” Dirk shakes his head and laughs, a timbre resonating through the air.

His mannerisms are easygoing and light, strangely so.

He reaches to ruffle Dave’s already-tousled hair, then crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“All the way out here, too? Maybe you did learn somethin’ worthwhile from this old sucker.” Dirk gives a quirk of his lip, a chuckle spilling past his pearly teeth.

Dave hasn’t reacted to Dirk’s actions, or anything he’s said. He simply stands motionless, shoulders loose and gaze fixed on the older Strider.

From here, the life of the party is fading, flatlining into a dull beat and ebbing away into the winter night. You feel a chill in the breeze that blows past.

“Bro.”

It’s the first thing Dave has said since their reunion.

You wonder what he’s going to say.

Dirk, who had flown from Texas across the country, who had settled down and made a life here without Dave without so much as a goodbye, who was now right in front of him.

Why?

How could you?

Congrats? I missed you? What about me?

Shawna vibrates weirdly next to you, probably reacting to the mixture of the cold and uneasy atmosphere. Uncharacteristically, Tracy ignores her, brows furrowed at the odd situation unfolding before you.

Dave’s back is upright, shoulders slouched just slightly into his body. Any signs of anger, disappointment, or relief are undetectable. You’re not even sure why you bothered looking—hiding emotions was typical of a Strider, anyways.

Dave pushes his sunglasses up his nose bridge, catching the moon, the neon bar sign, and Dirk’s own triangular shades in the reflection.

“…Your purple smuppet by the microwave caught on fire.”

Tracy exhales loudly through her nose and Shawna throws her head back, both clearly exasperated.

Dirk gives a loud, hearty laugh and reaches out to fist bump Dave, who returns it coolly.

“Might as well, he was an ugly lil’ guy anyways.”

Dirk wraps his arm around Dave’s shoulders and shoots a smile at Shawna and Tracy, then his eyes meet yours. You don’t miss the way that his grin melts into a mischievous smirk when his eyes land on your form, and you swallow thickly.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again like this (y/n). I was hopin’ the meeting would be a tad more personal, but you’re one to bring the thunder, aren’tcha?”

Your heart quickens at his words, and it knocks all the questions out of your head. He’s still got the same sexy Texan drawl as when he swept you off your feet (literally) in the supermarket, and it’s distracting as all hell.

Instead of formulating a comprehensive response like a multi-celled organism should be capable of doing, you blush and gape like a pre-evolved Tiktaalik washed up on a beachy shore.

“Erm, ahaha, I guess?”

You can hear Shawna, Tracy, and the bouncer???? Simultaneously facepalm at your epic loserness.

There’s a heavy gaze weighing on you, but when you look at Dave his gaze is averted elsewhere.

Maybe the blood in your head is messing with you?

“Formalities aside, thank the lot of ya’ll for looking out for my lil’ bro here. Reckless lil’ mucker hasn’t been able to stay out of trouble since he learned to walk, ain’t that right Dave?”

Dirk gives Dave a small shake which nearly sends Dave’s shades flying, but Dave maintains his poise with a quick adjustment.

A strange sensation strikes you, and you realize Dave has never allowed anyone to handle him the way Dirk is now. It feels almost too intimate to behold, yet here you were, wondering if you should intervene.

You don’t.

“…Right.” Dave says. He flicks his slightly disheveled hair out of his face.

There’s a beat of silence when the conversation dies down. Adam gives a small cough in the background.

“Well, this is great and everything, yada yada yada,” Tracy suddenly says, stepping forward. “But have we still have questions for you.” She jabs a finger in Dirk’s direction, but he simply responds with a dazzling smile.

“Of course, little lady. Anything.”

Tracy’s once stern finger wilts just a tad, and you can see a hint of redness at the tips of her ears.

“Uh! Well!” She coughs and frowns to cover up her stutter. “Like I said before, it’s nice to see both brothers united after several months. But weren’t we looking for a little brother?”

You’re about to agree, but Shawna butts in, twirling a strand of brown hair on her finger. “Wait, I thought we all knew Dave and Dirk were related?”

Both you and Tracy blanch, giving Shawna a double-take.

“…Shawna…” You trail off.

“…You knew…?” Tracy chokes out.

Shawna furrows her eyebrows together, a little crease forming on her forehead. “Well, yeah. Isn’t it kind of obvious? They both have sunglasses, blonde hair, and similar color schemes. It’s basic character design.”

“Woah, woah, hold on.”

You pinch your nose bridge with two fingers and hold out a hand, imploring her to stop before she pulls readers out of an otherwise immersive story.

“You knew this whole time and didn’t say anything?”

Shawna twiddles her fingers, looking up at you. “Mmmm, it’s just that… I’m not as smart as you or Tracy, so usually you guys realize these things before me. I realized the moment I saw Dave, so I didn’t think I needed to mention it to you guys.”

There’s a stab of pain in your chest at her words. “What? Shawna—”

“Guys,” Tracy warns, stepping between the both of you. “Now’s not the time. Come on.”

Tracy crosses her arms and quirks an eyebrow, turning to you. “We still need to get to the bottom of this. What about the high schools you checked? The foster homes you called?”

You tear your stare away from Shawna and refocus on the task at hand.

As chaotic as all this was, Tracy had a point. You had spent months searching for a teenager lost in the city, not a grown man working at a nightclub. Given the way things had played out, it made sense that you came up empty-handed.

“Yeah, I mean… We were looking for you practically everywhere.” You say to Dirk.

“Woah, hold on just a minute. High schools and foster homes? Just what kinda disorderly, runaway youth did you take me for?” He laughed.

You grimaced. “We did find Dave curled up in a dingy alley…”

“…And you figured the apple couldn’t fall too far from the tree, huh?” Dirk shook his head, yellow locks brushing his temple when he looks down at Dave. “By the way, nice one bro.”

Tracy looks aghast at his response, but you cut her off before she can gather the words to chastise anyone. Besides, there were still some pressing matters to be addressed, none of which a stern lecture could resolve.

“There’s still some things we’re confused about.” You say.

Dirk looks to you patiently.

“We tried to call you more than a few times, and I’m pretty sure Dave was sending out messages once, no, at least twice a day—” In your periphery, you think you see Dave’s jaw tighten beside Dirk, “—but… No response. Shouldn’t you be more attentive to your phone, especially if your brother is, or was, in another state?”

Dirk places a forefinger and a thumb on his chin, tilting his chin upwards.

“…Ah, fuck.”

You blink at his reaction, watching as he digs a cracked phone out of his pocket and taps a few buttons.

“Here, take a looksie.”

You extend your hands and he drops his phone into your palms. In the illumination of the streetlights, you can see your own face on the splintered screen.

Angling the phone towards you, you can now see that he’s opened up the phone log for you. Not only this, but he’s got a new contact form pulled up with your name already filled in, an orange heart beside it.

Your throat tightens and you peek up at him, bewildered by his brazen timing.

It seems he expected this because he’s already looking at you. He gives a secretive wink.

The interaction goes unnoticed, but you’re still hit with a wave of embarrassment. This all suddenly felt quite scandalous, and Dirk was so bold it was almost unbelievable. This had to mean he was interested in you, right?

You shake the thoughts out of your head and type in your number, hitting the save button afterwards. When the window closes, the call logs are pulled up.

You waver a bit, scanning the history.

“What the… Last received call was… Three months ago?”

You scroll down the list of calls, a divot working it’s way between your brows, heat from your cheeks fading as the confusion settled in. “What the heck? Dave’s calls haven’t been going through?”

You look up at Dave, but he’s still as stone-faced as ever.

Dirk sighs, unhooking his arm from Dave’s back and shoving his hands in his jean pockets. “Not just Dave, darlin’. Everyone. I’ve been without service for a good two-and-a-half months now.”

Shawna’s jaw drops. She presses a hand to her phone protectively. “No way! I couldn’t live two-and-a-half months with no service, what kind of shady phone company are you using?”

Dirk shrugs, taking the phone from your hands.

“No shady phone companies here. I was runnin’ late for work a few months ago and had to park in vomit-valley there.” He jerks a finger in the direction of the club entrance. “No employee in their right mind will park there, but I had no choice. Just my luck, some sorry sucker yacked all over my truck and wrecked the interior.”

He slips his phone into his pocket. You, Tracy, and Shawna all start sweating bullets.

“Got it cleaned and it cost me a pretty penny, so givin’ up phone service for a few months seemed to be my best bet.”

“Uhm, Dirk, was it?” Tracy starts,

“You can call me Bro.” Dirk nods, and Tracy hesitates before continuing.

“…Right, so the truth is—"

Shawna curtly interjects. “Wow! Sucks! That it happened. But! The past is in the past!” She laughs rather conspicuously and clasps her hands together. “It all makes sense now, at least! Dirk’s car got puked on and he had to forgo his phone service, and that all happened right when Dave started calling and texting him, which is why nothing went through! Hahaha!”

A really awkward silence follows Shawna’s laughter, but if she had made it obvious she was responsible for Dirk’s ruined vehicle, he made no indication of giving a single shit.

“Right? Ain’t that a strange coincidence!” He slaps the pocket with his phone tucked into it. “Fortunately, I’ll be back on the radar after this week. Lucky for me, hm?” He gives you a sneaking look that makes your toes curl in your shoes.

“Yeah! Lucky.” Shawna responds quickly, clearly keen to move away from the subject.

Tracy must have picked up on this, because she follows up her shitty attempt at a cover-up with a question of her own. “Sounds like money’s tight for you. Where are you living?”

Dirk shakes his head with a half-resigned smile. “You sure got me there. It’s a cozy little apartment, or a dingy one, depending on whether you like your kitchen separate from your bedroom.”

You and Tracy grimace.

“That’s the city for you. I bet the rent is racking up a heavy price, too.” Tracy sighs.

“Like it or, it’s home for the time being. Helps me sleep at night knowin’ it’s close to my graduate school, though.”

You perk up at his words. “Graduate school? You mean you attend a graduate school by here? I go to college in this area!”

Dirk’s face brightens at your enthusiasm, teeth flashing in a chuckle. “You betcha I do. You wouldn’t happen to know Andrew University, would’ya?”

“No freaking way! Andrew Uni? I’ve been attending for years now! I can’t believe I’ve never seen you.” You exclaim.

“Well, I did just transfer.” Dirk says, clearly amused with your excitement. “We should grab lunch sometime.”

You’ve practically got stars in your eyes when you respond, “Yes! Usually Adam and I eat together, but that would be awesome! All we do is sit around and do math homework anyways.”

“So he’s moving out, right?”

The air stagnates.

The group turns towards the voice, and the bouncer, sensing tension, assumes an unfittingly sheepish look and inches away from the culprit.

Adam rises from his spot on the floor, holding his head with one hand, still suffering the aftermath of six whiskey shots.

“Isn’t that right?”

The question is directed at you, but for some reason Adam is staring down the two Strider brothers.

“Adam, what are you—?”

“Great, we’ve done everything we’ve been hoping to do. You played your happy little part and housed some random guy off the street. You even managed to reunite him with his brother, so doesn’t it make sense that Dave just move in with him now, since he has his own apartment and everything?”

You’re shocked at Adam’s nasty attitude, especially since he never spoke like this before. Just what had gotten into him?

“He’s right.” Tracy speaks up, tone firm. You whip around to look at her, alarms blaring in your head.

What was this sensation? Unease?

“Dave’s been living with her for long enough. Although she may be too nice to say it, I’m sure the water and electricity bill have been steep. I’m sure you understand… There’s just no way for a college student to afford all of that.”

Fear?

Dirk nods, placing a hand on Dave’s shoulder. “Of course we do. Dave and I will be able to handle ourselves just fine now.”

Worry?

You stare wide-eyed at Dirk, but all you see is your own reflection desperately looking back at you. You turn to search Dave’s face and are further disoriented to notice a break in his typical stoicism. As slight as it is, there is a brief scrunching of his nose, as if he was searching your face as well.

He seems to want to say something, but a low whistle from his Bro interrupts him.

“Goddamn, time flies quick. It’s nearly three o’ clock in the mornin’. We should be headin’ out soon, I’ve got an eight AM.”

Dirk steps forward and extends a hand to you. Confused, you grab it in a weak handshake.

He smiles and shakes his head as if you’re the silliest thing on the planet, then brings your hand up to his lips, giving it a whisper of a touch, barely a kiss.

“Thank you, darlin’.” He whispers against your knuckles, blond eyelashes brushing against your wrist.

Shawna coos in the background and Tracy clears her throat, looking away abashedly.

Adam’s eyebrows shoot up. “Dude, what the fuck—" but the bouncer pulls him back with one comically stringy arm, shushing him and shaking his head.

Dirk pulls away before you can collect yourself and nods to Dave, prompting him to say his goodbyes as well.

You’re unsure of how to react, your heart both soaring and sinking at the same time. As Dave steps in front of you, your chest caught in a vice. He’s just as poker-faced as ever, and it makes you wonder if he would even miss you at all.

Dave places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey.” He says softly, like he’s talking to a wounded animal. The tone makes your heart ache.

His voice sounds dry and strained. You must be imagining it, you think. Misery likes company, you think.

Then he pulls you in. Though he does so gently, the unexpected action surprises you. You’re surrounded by his scent and his heat all at once, his taller, larger body eclipsing your own in a strangely sentimental hug.

His platinum hair tickles your cheek and your nose. You want to itch it but are entirely too paralyzed with shock. A foreign hotness pushes at the back of your eyes, but you blink it away.

He pulls away slightly and whispers in your ear before stepping away, standing beside his brother with the composure of a very cool dude who totally didn’t just get sappy.

“Thank you.”

Dirk raises an eyebrow. In the tone of a joke he says, “A Strider givin’ a hug? World must be ending.”

Shawna giggles and Tracy gives a courtesy chuckle. Dave doesn’t laugh.

Neither do you, preoccupied with the ringing in your ears that came from a jaw clenched too tightly.

This was going to happen eventually. You knew this whole time— so why did you still feel so resistant to it?

“...I’ll see you guys around.” You say to no one in particular.

You can feel Dave’s eyes on you but don’t look up. You’re ashamed of how ridiculous you must sound right now.

You’re glad it seems only Dave notices.

A few more words of farewell are exchanged before the two embark off into the evening.

You watch both Dave and Dirk disappear into the night. Their idle conversation fades into the typical city night, mumbling itself to sleep.

Standing beside Shawna and Tracy, muttering amongst themselves about a ride home, you find that the night feels strangely lonely.

[hongjoongtrasher]

the beauty and the beast (chapter 2)

word count: 5k around

angst, fluff, smut

triger warnings: mention of child abuse, violence etc.

series masterlist

Synopsis:

When you move to a new city due to your father's job, you don't expect to stay for a long and so decided not to get attached to the world around you.

But still, you are "the new girl", unwillingly attracting people's attention because of your family's background. Your strict father expects a lot from you, not to say perfection. And when you are sit next to a certain Jung Yunho, you didn't expect your life to take a radical turn

Yunho always have been hating wealthy people. Or just people who were boasting about all the damn money they had and he hadn’t. Oh maybe it was childish to hate richer than himself, but he didn’t hate them for no reasons. He always felt disgusted by their pity, the way they would just «burn some cash » because they could, because they had too much. He concluded every rich guy was like this, and you weren’t an exception. At the very moment his eyes landed on your person, he could instantly feel this familiar aura. A daddy’s girl, probably richer than everyone’s parents in this school. And just the fact of you sitting next to him was driving him crazy.

He ignored you all the time. And he was glad in a way you didn’t try to talk to him, because he would have snapped all his hatred he was feeling towards people like you. But for a fact, he could admit that you weren’t acting like other rich kids around. The way you flinched when his friend was about to lift his hand at you, also the fact you were lonelier than he thought. Oh yes he indeed noticed you being the silent girl around, and at first he thought it was because you were the new girl, and that it was just a facade and soon or later you would just boast like the others.

It’s already been two weeks since you arrived here and yet you were as quiet as usual. You tried to acclimatize to every thing but as the good girl you were, your father thought it was a good opportunity for you to get into extra classes. Last night, you came back home near midnight, exhausted by this long day after studying like crazy. That’s why you didn’t even care to look at Yunho this morning when you sat down, as usual not peeping a word to him since the incident on the rooftop. Actually you tried to flip over and over again the same problem. Why he hated you this much ? But after some days, you understood he was hating every one the same way. Skipping classes, or when he was making act of presence just sleeping on his desk became the routine but today he was here. You quietly opened your bag to settle your pencils and workbooks. Yunho’s back facing you while he was probably taking a nap. Your English teacher came and when she started the class, she stated. « Alright guys, today you’ll be paired up. I want you to improvise a short sketch with what you learnt this past week. Just pair up with your neighbor. You have fifteen minutes »

Your eyes widened at her statement as you felt your heart throbs violently into your chest. Being in a team with Yunho was probably the last thing you thought which could become true today. And speaking of him, you heard a groan next to you, making you freezing as he slowly turned to you before staring at you.

« Just telling you, I don’t have a clue of what she said, so don’t expect me to do well »

How nonchalant he was at this moment almost made you scoff.

« You should have been here then. » you groaned back while opening your notebook.

His brows quirked at how you answered to him.

« Someone got more brave huh ? » he said before straightening on his chair and looked at the textbook of yours on your desk and took it to read the last two pages to your astonishment.

« Didn’t bring it, so I’ll just use yours. » he explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

« Great. » you answered and just scribbles some words on a page. You didn’t want to waste your time for such a jerk like him? At least you would have done your task by yourself, just for yourself and not him. You couldn’t let Yunho drag your grades down…You couldn’t just relax yourself.

Some silence installed between you two while others students were trying to do the task your teacher asked, but instead, Yunho took time to actually look at you. Somehow you looked exhausted, non to say to the verge of fainting. Your lips were pale, and dirk circles could be seen under your eyes.

« Didn’t sleep well last night ? » he asked randomly as he pretended to read the book under his eyes.

You badly wanted to ignore him. What the heck ? Just few weeks ago he openly said he hated you so you just accepted this fact and now he was chatting like you as nothing happened ?

« Studied late » you answered drily.

« Ha, I see you went to those extra classes which are costing your butt’s skin. »

You offered him a dark glare, making him look into your eyes. If course he wasn’t attending any of this, so he couldn’t really understand the situation you were in.

« And ? Is it going to change your life ? ��

He shrugged.

« No, but I guess you’re a hardcore student » he hummed before he took his pencil to write down some words on his own paper. « Must be so boring » he added mockingly.

You wanted to answer back to him and spit how rude he was from the first place. You acknowledged the fact your life was boring as fuck, you were the first one to say it, but there were limits to making fun of this matter. Soon your teacher clapped her hands to catch everyone’s attention.

« Alright guys, it’s time. Who want to go first ? »

It was the usual game of « I don’t know what you’re saying », essentially based on avoid your teachers’ eyes and doing as you was busy enough not to make her choosing you. Your teacher smirked. « I see everyone’s eager to go, soooo…Y/N and Yunho, you go first. »

You panicked a bit, because except this little conversation you both hadn’t talked at all about your coed work. But Yunho didn’t seem bothered by this at all and stood up with his paper and just nudged your shoulder so you could stand up and go to the front with him. What was he playing at ?

Actually you thought Yunho was someone who didn’t give a shit to studies. His consecutive absences were not helping for his case but surprisingly, he opened the sketch with a good English. So good that you were surprised, making you go blank for a second. He looked at you before moving his lips silently « Y/N. » You shook your head and continued this weird play. At the end, your teacher seemed satisfied by your work and allowed you to go back to your sits so the next pair could go on.

When you sat down again, you looked at Yunho again.

« I thought you would’t do well » you mumbled.

He laughed lowly and it troubled you. It was the first time you heard him laugh. The first time he wasn’t showing hostility to you.

« You may think I’m a lazy ass, but I got some things stocked in this » he whispered, pointing at his head before leaning back on his chair.

Classes ended soon for the usual lunch break. Yunho got up and got out of the room without a word for you, as usual. Today you decided to stay into the classroom to eat. You never went back on the rooftop since you met the three boys. As you were unpacking the lunchpack you got from Sookja, you just took some time to think about this morning. Was Yunho being nice to you a sign to be more suspicious of him ? You were into your thought when you heard a voice calling your name.

« Y/N ? »

You looked up and saw a girl standing at your desk.

« Huh…Yeah ? »

She smiled to you and said.

« I’m Jisoo, erm…we’re in the same class and…I…Would you like to eat lunch with me ? » she asked shyly.

You were flustered by this sudden proposition. It was the first time someone was reaching out for you since you were in this school. Jason was a petite girl, with shorts hair and pink round cheeks. She looked nice so you couldn’t say no.

« Of course, but…mh, are you sure ? I’m not a good company » you confessed, embarrassed by this.

« I figured out you were eating alone every day and mhhh, I…just want to know you better you see ? I mean, don’t get me wrong ! I’m not approaching you because you’re the newbie or rich girl around ! »

You chuckled at her answer and made some space for her to eat your lunch on this tight desk.

« Thanks…actually I don’t feel like eating with a lot of people » you mumbled, peeling a boiled egg.

Jisoo looked surprised by your statement.

« Why not ? Well, people aren’t trying neither but…It would be a pity to let you out right ? You seem nice, so… »

Jisoo unpacked her own pink lunchbox where cherry tomatoes and egg roll and others nice things were lying inside.

« That’s cute ! Are you cooking it yourself ? » you said, trying to make a conversation.

She nodded with a proud smirk.

« Yes ! I like cooking, but since I’d pack too much I’m doing basic things. You ? Looks good as well. »

« Mh…Actually I don’t know how to cook » you answered uneasily.

« Oh must be your mom then ? »

It was a slippery subject, but since Jason made the genuine effort to come and talk to you, you didn’t feel like making up lies.

« I don’t have a mom…Huh, I mean I have one, but my parents divorced when I was little and…never seen her since » you mumbled, eating piece of kimchi.

Jisoo’s expression went bad and you could easily know why, so you quickly said.

« It’s fine, don’t worry, I don’t try to see her neither so I’m used to. Instead we have a housekeeper. She’s making my lunch every day, so I guess it’s like a mom. »

« Oh…I’m sorry still. I didn’t know »

You gave her a comforting smile as you two ate your lunch peacefully, getting to know each other’s better.

« Say, I saw you this morning with Yunho… Is he nice with you ? » asked Jisoo out of the blue.

You almost had forgotten about your gloomy classmate, so you hummed in hesitation.

« He’s a jerk, the first day I arrived he just openly said he hates me » you groaned, packing back your empty box.

« He hates every one outta here » Jisoo added, not seemed surprised. « But…there are a lot of rumours about him » she said lowly as if she was scared someone would overhear her words.

You arched a brow, curious about those said rumours.

« What kind of rumours ? »

« He’s fighting a lot with other people, basically a bad boy. You’ve seen it already, but he’s skipping classes a lot and no one really knows what he’s doing. » Jisoo explained. « I’ve never seen him hitting someone myself, but …be careful ? I don’t want him to hurt you or anyone else around »

Was he this terrible ? The image of Yunho laughing this morning was still lingering into your head. So you just nodded at her advice. It was almost time for classes again so Jisoo left you and friendly waved her hand at you before going back to her desk while other people were coming back. You expected Yunho to skip class again, but surprisingly his tall figure appeared before the bell rang. He got back to his desk and again laid his head on the desk, ignoring you in the process.

It was Korean history class, and it would be a lie to say it was boring as hell. Although you were still taking notes of every thing, Yunho was still acting like a dead body. He didn’t say a word to you for the rest of the day. And at 5pm sharp, you got out from school to go to your extra classes. You’re still drained from your day, and the idea to study more was giving you a headache. By chance, you were allowed to go alone there, taking the bus.

That’s how Yunho saw you walking to the bus stop while he was going to his motorbike, helmet in his hand. You were a weird girl. Never before he got interested into a girl, all being the same when it comes to approach him for his bad boy vibe like. Bullshit. He hated those childish girls, but surprisingly you didn’t have this side into your attitude. Again, Yunho was shocked to think about you from time to time. « Get yourself back Jung Yunho » his conscious told him before he saw the bus passing by his eyes.

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

Days were flying by and your first mock exams were coming at the corner. You had worked like a slave for this days, sleeping few hours a night to study more and more, the menacing shadow of your father planning above your head. Jisoo was eating lunch with you every day since. You girl got closer after few days and you considered her like your friend. She was the first person to hear about your familial situation and the gape, or more the ravine between you and your father. You must say it was a relief to be able to confess every thing to someone exterior to your house.

Jisoo seemed pissed off when you told her you were used not to get attached to people due to you moving almost every year to another city.

« That’s so awful ! » she cried, grabbing the carton of fruit juice you got from the machine.

« Yeah…My father is a stone cold asshole » you mumbled, the straw between your lips.

« Girl, when exams are over, let’s have fun alight ? Fight me if your father says no ! »

Jisoo was so cute. You couldn’t imagine this little girl tossing her fists at your father, but somehow the image was funny. That’s how you promised you would.

This day again you had to go to extra classes, and today was really a day you wished someone would ditch you from this living hell. Waiting at the bus stop, you were spacing out when you heard the sound of a roaring engine before it stopped right before you. The man on the moto lifted the smoked visor on his helmet to reveal his face. You heart stopped when you recognise Yunho. You didn’t know you he could drive such a thing but he seemed proud of it as he smirked to you.

« Need a drive ma’am ? » he asked.

What the fucking hell ? One day he was ignoring you like a ghost and another day he was talking to you and now proposing you to ride his moto ?

« Wha- I don’t understand, what are you trying to do here ? » you groaned back as he stabilised himself and just throw at you another helmet.

« Wear this. » he ordered without answering your question.

You looked at him in hesitation. Was he serious ? Or was he trying to drag you into another salty problem ? As he could read into your head, he rolled his eyes.

« I won’t throw you over a bridge you know ? »

« Huh…So tell me what are you trying to do ? I’m utterly sick of your hot and cold game. One day you’re saying you’re hating me, fine. And another one you’re actually trying to convince me to ride on a motorbike with you. »

« Get on, we’ll talk later » he groaned, glaring at you which intimated you.

Soon enough you were at the back of the motorbike, and before he drove, he took your arm to make you hug his waist tightly.

« Don’t ever let it go. If we fall I’d rather you fall with me than the motorbike » he explained.

You were about to protest, but he drove, making you instantly hold him tightly. It was the first time you were being driven on a moto, and the air going through your hair, the warmth of Yunho’s back against your chest was a total discovery for you. You were scared, not to say terrified. But Yunho was really driving carefully, although he liked to make his engine roar when the road was clear. When you weren’t scared enough to focus on his back only, you tried to see where he was going, and soon recognise the way to your extra classes. How did he know ? After some more minutes of furious roars, he stopped in front of a building you could recognise. He waited for you to get off the engine so he could as well get off.

Taking off the helmet you took a giant breath, your heart beating like crazy.

« How was the ride ? » he asked in a tease, watching you regaining strength.

« You’re crazy. Absolutely crazy » you hissed, shoving his helmet in his arms. « And how did you know it was here I was going ? »

Yunho couldn’t tell you he once followed you until there. Actually, he didn’t know himself why he had followed you, but after some days when he came back there, he saw your figure through a window, totally exhausted almost dozing on your work. Something made him stay here for a while, just watching you from afar this day. You were the representation of what he hated the most, and yet you were just a normal girl, acting like a normal girl. Moreover you looked so tired every day, and he was just wondering until how far you’d push yourself to be this perfect student.

« I just figured it out when I came one the neighbourhood with Hongjoong and some friends. We are hanging out quite a lot here» he grumbled. It wasn’t really a lie right ? Hongjoong and Yeosang were living in this area, so they were meeting quite a lot after classes in the neighbourhood.

You rolled your eyes before staring at him in confusion. Why was he being nice all of the sudden ?

Anyway, you needed to go, having enough of this nonsense.

« Thanks for the ride, but don’t hope to get me on this bike from hell any sooner » you groaned before taking your lead inside the building, not paying a look at your classmate.

Yunho smirked and shook his head.

« Bike from hell… »

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

Hours passed, and when the clock showed around ten, classes ended. You sighed and rubbed your eyes from exhaustion, slowly getting out the building to see the motorbike was still here. But not Yunho. Looking around, you tried to see if he was around. Seemed he was not. While admiring his black shiny engine, you got lost in your inner thought again. It was so strange for him to act this kindly but none without saying dangerously toward you. And the fact he discovered where you were studying was still a mystery for you, not totally convinced by the total luck of him running on this place.

« It’s maybe a bike from hell, but still pretty right ? » a voice exclaimed at you, making you jump.

Yunho was back, a bag in his hand from the CU, the nearby convenient store. You crunched up your nose. Why was he still here ?

« I met the guys, and was about to go home. » he explained again as if he could read your thought.

« Oh what a coincidence ! » you mimicked still not convinced if he was lying or not.

« Y/N I’m not lying, Hongjoong literally lives two blocks away from here. » he said seriously.

You sighed and turned around to leave. But when you walked past way his position he asked in a relax tone:

« I got some ice cream, want some ? »

It was going from dumb and dumber. Seriously you couldn’t put a finger on his weird behaviour. With a suspicious look you were about to say no, but he cut you.

« Your brain needs sugar. It’s past ten, and you’ve been studying for four hours straight. I guess you didn’t have diner too huh. »

« And what does it concern you ? » you snapped, turning to face him. « It’s not as if you would be this concerned for someone you hate right ? I don’t understand Yunho, I don’t understand you and your attitude. »

Yunho bite his lower lip, knowing himself he got in a weird situation.

« Yeah I know I said I hated people like you, but I didn’t say I hated you » he mumbled.

There was this embarrassing silent again, only the noises of the city filling the icy atmosphere between you.

« People like me. What do you mean ? Did I do something wrong to deserve this attitude ? » you crossed your arms, decided to cleared this shit.

Yunho felt uneasy to talk about it, but somehow he didn’t want to stay in a bad relationship with you. Instead, he took a ice cream from the bag and handled it to you.

« Eat, I will explain it to you after. » he mumbled, looking away.

You gave him a glance but finally took the ice cream, your stomach making you remember you were starving at the moment. It was a vanilla strawberry ice cream. You almost laughed by seeing this.

« Didn’t know you had so girlish tastes » you said ironically putting the ice cream into your mouth.

« I got mine, what do you mean ? I knew you would maybe get out at this hour and I just felt like buying you this » he justified himself by taking his own ice cream, green tea flavoured.

You both sat down on the empty academy’ stairs to eat your ice creams in silence. There were so much questions you wanted to ask, trying to figure out how to deal with him.

« I’m living alone with my mom. My dad and her divorced when I was ten or something. He was violent dude and was hitting my mom, so he got arrested by the police when the neighbours got fed up by the every day fights. But the thing is…we always had financial problems because of this bastard. He borrowed money from loan sharks, an astronomical amount and got my mom in trouble even after he got arrested. » said Yunho, blankly staring at the floor.

All you could do was listening to him. Surprisingly, you never imagined something this horrible would have happened to him.

« My mom sold everything she had to give the money back, so we lost our house and now we’re living in a small studio. Even though she’s working, her salary is just enough to cover the rent and the rest is going to those loan sharks. »

His voice was weak, almost silent as he felt his barriers falling down. He looked so fragile, his broad shoulders shuddering slowly, his dark hair covering his eyes. You felt your heart sinking at his reflection.

« Of course I wanted to help her as soon as I could get a job, getting some part time jobs but she wants me to focus on school. » he laughed bitterly, watching his ice cream melting. « I’ve soon been taught that school wasn’t going to make things better. And people knowing about my family matters were just doing things out of pity for us. It drove me crazy. I hate people boasting about how nice it is to have money, how nice it is to be a normal happy family and just feel the others like shit. »

That’s how you figured out why Yunho hated rich people. And how he probably thought you were the same as the others he could have seen before. The bitterness you were feeling towards him vanished in an instant. How such a tough guy like him could appear so broken ? How hard must it have been for him all those years ?

« I…I’m sorry. » you muttered, not really knowing how to carry on.

« No, it’s fine. I’m aware you’re from a wealthy fam, but I figured out you weren’t like those bitches gossiping around. » he said, taking back some composure as he ate a part of the leaking ice cream.

« But…How are you doing ? I mean, are you eating correctly ? » you asked, genuinely worried about his health at the moment.

He chuckled and looked at you.

« My grand parents are supporting us. » he said, ruffling his hair with his hand. « The only time I worked during summer break, they refused the money. That’s how I got my moto »

There was another long pause, before you felt the cold liquid from your ice cream falling on your hand, making you yelp in surprise. Yunho smirked and laughed lightly, watching you fighting with your ice cream.

« Eat, I’ll drive you back home…If you let me to, I mean » he said, rubbing his nape after finishing his own snack.

« Alright, but don’t even think of doing the rodeo on the way back. » you grumbled and get on.

Once again on Yunho’s motorbike, you watched the city streaming before your eyes, neons of all colours leaving particular marks in the dark night. The cold air now hitting your body made you hug Yunho’s tighter. You didn’t know how to feel towards him. But you understood the situations he got through and up until now, you thought you’d have done the same if you had to be in the same game. But it wasn’t a game. You knew Yunho wasn’t a real bad guy. Things forced him to do tough tasks. You were ready to forgive him, as long as he promised at least to be this hostile to you.

When you arrived near your big complex, you made sign to Yunho to stop right before the actual building. He turned the engine off and let you get off his moto. Taking off the helmet, you gave it back to him but he stopped you.

« Keep it. »

« What ? But .. »

« It won’t be the last time you will get on this Y/N » he said with a smirk. « But anyway, why did you make me drop you here ? I could go to the right building »

« Erm…I rather not. My father could see this and…I guess he wouldn’t like seeing his daughter riding a motorbike with a boy he doesn’t know. » you spurred out.

Yunho raised a brow at your comment about your father. He barely saw him at your first day but he seemed like a strict man. He nodded.

« I see, well…See you around ? »

« Yeah…if you don’t skip classes » you giggled, relaxed by this friendly or at least less hostile conversation.

Yunho scoffed and ruffled your hair, which surprised you.

« Maybe. »

Then he sent you off, waiting for you to go inside the building before driving back to his empty home. He mostly had said the truth to you, but he voluntarily omitted to add his mom got admitted to the hospital weeks ago. And he didn’t want you to pity him furthermore.

When you stepped inside the silent apartment, you noticed your father’s shoes weren’t at the entrance, meaning he wasn’t home. You sighed in relief, hurrying yourself to hide the helmet in your room, under your bed. Only Sookja got a glimpse at you rushing at your room.

« Y/N ? Is everything alright ? » she asked while she was in the kitchen.

« Yes ! Every thing is alright ! » you shouted back at her before going back to the kitchen to eat the late diner she prepared you.

Sookja took a look at your face. You were indeed tired, but something had changed. She could feel you were less, stressed ? The old woman sweetly smiled to you watching you eat.

« Did something nice happen today at school ? » she asked innocently, aware you normally aren’t really openly talking about your school days.

You looked at her, enjoying the warm soup after the cold weather you faced on Yunho’s bike.

« Erm…Yeah we can say that » you mumbled, slightly embarrassed but yet excited.

Sookja was a confident. You could tell her anything, she would never repeat to your father. She waited for you to keep on.

« There is a ..classmate of mine. At first we were like cats and dogs you know ? But today we sorted things out and I guess it’s fine now »

« I’m glad to ear this sweetie » she said in pure relief and joy for you. « Have you made friends ? »

« There is Jisoo ! She’s a part of my class as well. She’s a really warm person » you said, after taking more bites of rice and others side dishes.

Your housekeeper was happy to know you were getting a better life than you have had until now. She hoped some day you would be free from your father’s influence and fly by your own wings. That’s how she was thinking and wished the most for you.

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

After this strange night, days have been more packed. The day of your mock exams, you gave it all, knowing that although it was only a mock one, your father wouldn’t let it pass. After giving back your sheets, you and Jisoo were talking at the cafeteria. The petite teenager stretched and sighed.

« Y/NNNNN ! What should I do ? I’m sure I’ll fail ! »

« Don’t say that Ji’, I’m sure you’ll do well »

« It’s easy for you ! You always have good grades. » she pouted.

« I wished I could have less than 100 believe me » you groaned.

From the corner of your eyes, you glimpsed the tall figure of Yunho with Mingi and Hongjoong. He was sitting with them with the same expressionless face he used to put on at school. But when he was sitting next to you during class, he didn’t ignore you anymore, nor tried to nap. He was surely warming up to you, but it seemed he wasn’t ready to let his friends see him this way with you.

« - today ? » you heard Jisoo’s voice.

« Mh ? Sorry, I wasn’t listening » you said, going back to your friend.

Jisoo pouted again before following your gaze and leaned near to your face with a teasing face.

« Guuuurl, it seems you and Yunho got closer or is it me ? »

« Gosh, Ji ! It’s not what you think ! We just sorted things out, but we’re not friends or things like this » you mumbled back, embarrassed by her behaviour.

« Well, that’s not really the impression I have. Did you remark he’s not skipping classes lately ? »

« Maybe he got enlightened by God to study ? » you suggested in a grin.

You both laughed and today, you felt relieved as you didn’t have to go to extra classes, the academy being closed for the spring break that was soon arriving. Somehow, you convinced your father to let you go to Jisoo’s house for the weekend, heavily pretexting she wanted you to tutor her for the real exams. He seemed suspicious, but since your school grades were good so far, he didn’t have any objections to make.

While for packing your bag, you received numerous notifications on KakaoTalk. Jisoo created a group chat with the others kids who were going to come at her house for the weekend. Mostly girls and maybe some boys, but it didn’t really matter for you only the fact you had the chance to spend time with your friend, making some other friends ?

You happily answered to the text saying you’d come by yourself at the indicated address and time before locking your phone again. When you were almost done packing, your phone vibrated again but this time wasn’t the group chat. « Jung Yunho » appeared at your screen, leaving you speechless for a moment.

윤호

Need a ride for this weekend ?

Taglist: @palegardenrebel @mirror-juliet @twancingyunhoe@yeosangmystar @dreamer95 @tinyteenieateez @yunsangoveryonder @tenebrisirae @ateezbabysitters

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[rogue-of-light]

BUT YEAH!!!

idk why but i can imagine cronus being like.. super annoyed if he wants to hang out with kankri, but he's already hanging out with dirk (becuase.. lets be honest D and K probably schedule times to hang out bc theyre just like that)

Cronus is fr out here just like.. erm... hovw could you choose him owver me vwhen i'm literally myself </3 (j) -KPA

NO YOURE RIGHT hard kin though. no surprise visits i will die. gotta schedule with me so i have time to shift into Social Mode

cronus, meanwhile, is just "ummmm... bestie. wrong slicked back haired musican?"

[siriuslysnuffles]

iii. of the past part two, a date

‘Evans,’ she heard a voice scream from the common room for the third time. A voice that would have usually had her smiling and blushing. Presently, however, it caused Lily to have the temper of a Peruvian Vipertooth–the smallest known dragon to wizarding kind who, like Lily, could no doubt cause one to cease to exist with little to no effort on their part.

As another scream echoed from below–courtesy of the idiotic Head Boy with an apparent death wish–she grabbed her wand from the bed, ready to hex the prat for his lack of consideration if the occasion presented itself. She supposed that if she really wanted to get back at him all she would have to do is steal his glasses and watch as he attempted to fly on his broom without them. Unfortunately–or fortunately if she had been in a better mood–she would have to catch a glimpse of those pretty hazel eyes if she planned on seeing this action through. And frankly, prats who stood up their dates did not deserve to have beautiful eyes; it was the law of the universe.

April gave her a sympathetic look before asking, ‘Are you going to talk to him?’ Lily’s only response was a shake of her head before lying down on her bed. ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean to stand you up. He looked like he just won the  Quidditch World Cup when I saw him this morning.’

‘Then he should have shown up.’ Lily mumbled mulishly, shooting her friend a glare that didn’t quite have the same effect it would have had on most people. ‘If Potter,’ she spat the name with as much content as she could manage, ‘had wanted to talk with me the courteous thing would have been to show up.’ Although she tried to hide how hurt she was by his actions through angry words, her feelings remained visible.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at Lily’s petulant behaviour she said instead, ‘James isn’t Severus.’ Lily bit the inside of her cheek at this statement but remained silent. ‘He wouldn’t just ditch you for no reason. You know that, you know him. You’re just scared that maybe you’ll make a mistake by trusting him. That’s why you waited so long before asking him out despite the fact that you’ve fancied him since last year. You’re scared, and, as your best friend, I’m telling you this for your own good, Lily. Stop trying to find a reason to ruin any chance of a relationship you might have with James just because Severus turned out to be a  complete arsehole who never stopped letting you down.’

‘I’m not,’ she pouted, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrowed at the other girl briefly in defiance before she took a deep breath and stood up. Although, she tried to conceal her smile, April made no attempt in hiding her innocent humming of ‘Here Comes the Bride.’

Once more shifting her attention to focus on the blonde, she firmly stated that it was her own desire to go talk to the handsome prat (perhaps not in those exact words) and not the result of her friend’s insinuation that Lily had unresolved issues involving backstabbing bigots.

‘I just don’t want him to injure himself doing something careless and get blamed if Gryffindor loses the first match of the season,’ she said adamantly.

‘Whatever you say,’ April laughed. Before marching off, Lily heard her friend’s smug proclamation that said event wasn’t until November.

On her way down to the common room, she caught sight of the boy in question sitting at the foot of the staircase. He was glaring at it as if it were responsible for all his troubles.

‘What do you want, Potter?’ She saw him flinch at the manner in which she pronounced his surname as if it were acid. Nevertheless, he stood up and faced her. As she watched him, she noticed how he held onto the left side of his abdomen with a look of pain on his face before quickly dropping his hand when he caught her gaze fixated on him. ‘Are you–’ she began asking as he said, ‘Lil, I–’

‘Erm, you can go first,’ she said as she brushed aside a strand of her hair.

His voice came out alarmed as he continued with his sentence, ‘I got mugged,’ The look on his face one of a deer caught in headlights.

She stared back at him with a look of bewilderment on her face. She opened her mouth before quickly closing it; not quite sure what to say to that. Instead, she raised an eyebrow and waited for him to elaborate.

‘I panicked,’ he admitted. The worry in his voice evident. ‘I didn’t get mugged. Although, Sirius did say it would be better if I said I was.’ He laughed nervously before adding, ‘He’s under the impression that you want to murder me.’

‘I wouldn’t call it an impression considering I told him as much.’ Taking a deep breath, she took a step closer to him and asked, ‘So what really happened? The James Potter edition, that is.’

He sighed before meeting her gaze. ‘I got ambushed by a few Slytherins when I was coming back from the kitchen. They gave me a nasty curse to the stomach and disappeared once they heard the sound of someone approaching us. It was Dirk Cresswell, you know, one of the Hufflepuff Prefects. He saw my wound and went to find Professor Sprout to help take me to the hospital wing.’ Absently, he moved his hand over his middle once more.

He ran his other hand through his hair, pulling at it nervously. His eyes pleading with her before saying wretchedly, ‘I never meant to miss our date.’ He sent her one of his lopsided smiles, ‘I’ve wanted a date with you since our fourth-year, Evans; so please trust me when I say that had I not been surprised by the Slytherins, I would have shown up.’

She cast her eyes down for a moment, feeling guilty for thinking poorly of him—all prior thoughts of vicious dragons and hexing forgotten.

‘I suppose being attacked is a good reason for missing our date,’ she acknowledged softly. ‘Even if you weren’t actually mugged.’

Her eyes held a mischievous glint in them for a moment that had James speechless. Especially when she placed a hand on his shoulder and tilted her face up to get a better look at him. He was close enough to her to admire the assembled freckles that were gracefully spattered across her face and caused him to become tongue-tied at any given opportunity.

With the same look of mischief still present, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth before impishly remarking, ‘I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me, won’t you?’ And with a playful wink sent his way, she headed up the stairs.

Revised: August 21, 2018

[callmearcturus]

DVD commentary meme: ASAFAF chapter 3

@daughter-of-the-blood asked for the scene in ASAFAF ch 3 “take a body to desert”, where Jake and Dirk have their question-answer game. Which I am thrilled to talk about so I’m going to do the whole scene.

MASSIVE TEXT POST UNDER THE JUMP:

When you were very small, your grandmother was Queen, and then she wasn’t anymore. Your uncle was King. He was a tall man with striking features, who you had met once or twice but did not know very well.

He was kind, and ushered you into the room you’d be sharing with your cousin, who was just a year younger than you and fed the aching loss in your chest with sweetness and affection. She was your family, and held you tight on the nights you woke up crying after dreaming of fire and Look away, Jake, close your eyes, don’t watch.

Literally the entire plot thread around Jake and being almost ostracized from his royal lineage because something his grandmother did, all of it literally just spun out of one line from AHB. There is a single reference to the fact that Jake’s gran was burned, per Dave.

And even that’s not very specific. Like, burned how, it could have been arson or an accident or something. But like, honest to god, the connection of “witch” to “burning” was too much for me not to extrapolate wildly from. It’s so silly, honest to god.

I remember talking to dirkar about it after and their almost bemusement on how what they thought of as a throw away line turned into this major backstory beat for Jake.

But it’s something you want to do with AUs. Or, erm, that I want to do with AUs.

If I tell you “Jake English has serious issues with his feelings on inadequacy,” I don’t technically need to justify that. That is canon. Anyone who has read HS knows about it.

But when I move a character to an AU, I personally do like translating those things over. Why does this Jake have those issues? The reasons are not the same. The road goes away from here.

You lay in bed, staring at the sunlight pouring out over your floor, and wonder if anyone is there to hold her right now.

The King was never more than a distant face and a strong, warm voice. But Jane had loved him desperately, and you never wanted her to know that pain.

I like this thing with Jake, that he’s often emphatic about things through how they directly affect him. Here, the King has died. Jake is not upset as a Patriotic Prospitan, nor as someone who was sort of the ward of this king. But he’s sad that Jane is sad. That this event affects Jane is what’s important to him.

More than anything, you want to be there for her.

do you really tho jake hm hm HMMMM

Jake would have no fucking clue how to help Jane, and you vocally tell her he’s so sorry he doesn’t know how to help, and Jane would resent having to comfort him for that while she’s busy mourning, etc etc. It’s really good he’s not there to “”””help”””””.

Instead, you lay around and do nothing, which is starting to become a bad habit of yours. It is all you are capable of sometimes, though. Before, you were meant to serve at her side, her right hand to reach where she could not. Now, you are well out of her reach, dozing in your room with the window open, letting the briskly cool breeze of Derse rustle your hair while the last of the Prospitan royal family bears the weight of the entire kingdom on her shoulders.

Jake with bouts of depression is a recurrent thing in ASAFAF. Like, it’s about as explicit as it can be without a doctor there to go “yo he depress.” But it’s a feeling I got from Jake in canon, honestly, that he was prone to downswings, so.... it’s here in the fic. /shrug

At least your useless spell doesn’t last long this time. Every day, someone checks on you: Rose, with her predictions that you will be fine soon. Dave, with quiet apologies and hugs. Roxy, with a big tempting bottle of something rich and intoxicating.

Day four, you ask the maid to draw up a bath. You clean yourself and shave, and venture out of your room, inordinately proud of yourself for your initiative.

I love doing that bait and switch with day four. WOULD DIRK HAVE COME? WHO KNOWS. Perhaps it’s all the same, since Jake goes to Dirk on day four.

But really, Dirk would never have shown up. He purposefully tries to avoid invading Jake’s private space. And this is before the sparring match, and how that moment trangressed the boundaries they had, imagined and actual.

The royal wing is quiet this morning. Its early enough the twins seem to be still asleep. Normally you are not awake at this hour, but three days of nothing but mourning and rest have you fully alert and eager to see anyone.

You check the war room to no avail. Then the dining room, with still nothing. There are curtains drawn in the library, a dimness to the room abated by candlelight, ignoring the bright daylight outside.

Derse’s royal family is singlehandedly funding the candlemaker industry in their kingdom. Wasteful lil shits. OPEN THE CURTAINS.

The Prince is sitting at one of the tables, licking his thumb and flicking through a book with narrowed eyes. Across from him, Roxy sits with her feet up on the table, legs crossed at the ankle.

The beginning of the conversation is a mystery, but as you let yourself in, you overhear Roxy say with warm jocularity, “Well, we’re givin’ them enough of our blood, why not a mop to go with it?”

You pause almost midstep, eyes widening.

Dirk’s eyes flick up to yours, then across his book at Roxy. “What?” When she goes unanswered, she finally turns and sees you. Her face goes pink. “Anyway, you’ll figure it out!” Her boots thump against the floor as she gets to her feet. “Sunspark, you’re lookin’ peaky, sit, sit, there’s tea left. I’ve… got stuff to do. Reports to write, birds to feed, you know how it is.”

Roxy has featured heavily in three of my AUs now and she is without a doubt the most fun to write.

Like, on top of that, this bit here was maybe my favorite Roxy bit to write. She has the capacity to be such a fucking mean person, in a way that I feel exceeds the capacity of any of the other Alphas. Mostly because Roxy’s Fatal Flaw in canon is her deep well of passive aggression. She is the most paggro person I’ve ever written.

But like, it’s kind of fucking delightful? She is fucking talking to her brother about coronation gifts and she suggests a bucket to mop up all the Dersian blood. Like. Jesus girl can you dial it down.

But boy does she feel like shit when she sees Jake’s overheard.

It’s one of my favorite things about ASAFAF. Roxy, and her loyalties. Roxy is loyal to Derse first. She likes Jake, and she thinks he’s good for the family, and she’ll go hunting with him and give him advice and shit, but in her day to day, she is dealing with Dersian people and jockeying the kingdom into the best position she can. She does not care about Prospit. And while she often keeps a lid on the full extent of that, sometimes she’s dead honest about it.

She squeezes your shoulder as she passes and heads out the way you came in.

In the eddies of awkwardness left in her wake, Dirk sighs. “I love my sister. I do. I feel I have to remind myself of this fact on a regular basis.”

You take the vacated seat near Dirk, and offer a wan smile. “I don’t mind. What were you discussing?”

“Coronation gifts. Derse has not sent one to Prospit for many, many years.” His fingers tap against the paper of the book. “I was thinking about a copse of silverwood trees.”

Silverwood trees are a recurrent magical touchstone in my shit. Oh, if only people knew where it came from. /embarrassed cough

You nod, and pour yourself tea. “That’s a lovely gesture. And I think at this point, given the history between Derse and Prospit, any genuine gesture will be treasured regardless of the actual gift.”

Dirk lets out a hum and marks something down on parchment.

The silence stretches across the space between you, prolonged and teetering on the verge of becoming awkward before settling warm. It’s only broken by the sound of Dirk’s pen scratching the page and the softest clink of your spoon against the side of your cup as you stir your tea.

Huh, a lot of ASAFAF was soundscaped settings. Weird.

You are aware of Dirk’s eyes flicking up periodically to check on you. For a while, you pay it no mind, seeing it as simple attention. It’s not out of place given your past few days sequestered in your chambers, and you find you don’t mind being fretted over. But by the time you are on your second cup, you ask, “Does His Majesty have a question?”

The corner of Dirk’s mouth shifts into the very start of a smile. “His Majesty is not one to pry.”

Jake is flirtatious in the wake of the troll delegation. What happened there, the way Dirk framed the situation with Jake as his warden who instills his punishment is a Heavy Thing, obviously. And Jake is aware of that.

But he also still likes that Dirk picked him over a potentially fortuitous alliance. Because Jake’s selfish.

“His Majesty is barely looking at his work, so he should probably say what’s on his mind.” You take a breath. “If this is about… the past few days, I’m alright, honestly. It’s vexing but I seem to… fall under the weather at the worst moments. Like the shock of things makes me sick. I don’t mean to be a bother.”

/shakes tamborine to the beat of “Tradition” DEPRESSIOOOOON~!

“You aren’t. And I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better.” Dirk’s lips press together, a pale white line. “It’s difficult to know how to help.”

“It’s passed.”

“Good. Thought that isn’t what I wanted to--” He stops hard, and takes his time redipping his pen into the inkwell. “I’d like to ask you something.”

“Of course.”

“Your cousin will be Queen soon. Within a fortnight, if Roxy is correct, and she tends to be to my great dismay and benefit.” You snort, and Dirk gives you the faint acknowledgement of a lifted eyebrow before continuing. “But, why were you not first in line? You’re a year older than the princess and share the same royal lineage.”

Oh. You set your cup down, and stare down into the dregs that drift idly along the bottom.

CUE ME MAKING UP SHIT ON THE FLY TO PAD OUT JAKE’S BACKSTORY

and it also sets up some of the major differences between Derse and Prospit, but they aren’t explored in this story. perhaps they will be elsewhere...............................

“You need not answer if it doesn’t please you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s a fair question. I’ve been asking my own about Derse, so…” You trail off and fidget with your teacup, using a finger to spin it slowly around on your saucer. “It’s not so simple as normal succession rules. My grandmother was the Queen, and I was her direct descendant. But then we had our King, rest his old soul, and Jane’s his only child. We both had equal claim. So it was… decided that Jane would be first in line, and I was trained to be her aide.”

you know i don’t know if i could write a jane who was not in some way an heiress? it’s a trait that nearly defines her, and its fingers are in every other piece of her characterization.

“Decided,” Dirk echoes. He always does that, imbuing your simple words with something more just by repeating them. It never bodes well. “Because your grandmother?”

“My… no.” You can’t help but frown, confused. “I don’t know what you mean, but no, the-- the regents passed down the decree. Said I had the wrong temperament. They explained it very well, it made sense.”

Psst. Derse knows about the witch queen that was burned to death. They super know. It strongly colors Derse’s vision of Prospit.

“When was this?”

“When I was fourteen.” You remember it vividly, that dark room under the palace and the old gentlemen who might’ve lived down in that dark place; you never saw them outside the undercity. You remember being told you would never wear the crown. It seems so far away now, and you’ve long, long since come to terms with the fact, to the point that imagining yourself on the Sunburst throne seems like an absurd dream.

“I lacked the emotional fortitude, or somesuch malarkey,” you add, because Dirk’s stare has not abated at all. “Which is true enough, I suppose.”

“Is it.” I like that Dirk’s disagreement is palpable form just two syllables.

“Dirk, I just had to have a three day long lie down over-- over someone I-- we were not very close. It’s probably a fair assessment. The regents help us keep Prospit on the up and up, they know what the kingdom needs.”

He lowers his gaze finally, and you take a shaking breath. The beat in the conversation is discordant, unnatural, like a missed note in a song. You wait for Dirk to respond, but something holds his tongue. You are somewhat relieved. Talking about it makes you feel pinched and raw all over again, like the day you were named the superfluous heir.

It’s uncomfortable also because Dirk is being so gentle with Jake, and Jake knows that and is trying not to feel coddled. But that’s one of Dirk’s issues, that he consistently positions himself as everyone’s patriarch and can be kind of condescending about it.

But well. He’s the sovereign. Soooo.

The entire line of thought is uncomfortable, but you work up the courage to say something anyway, if only to turn the table on him. Lest he ask you more questions that make your chest hurt. “Roxy told me some things about your predecessor. You were crowned at eighteen, that’s terrifying.”

“But necessary.” Dirk has his pen in hand again, but doesn’t dip it in the ink, simply holding it.

“She said…” As soon as you start to ask, your voice falters. But the topic has been nagging at you all this time, pecking away at the back of your head enough through your stint of lethargic sadness.

“Go on.”

“She said the old king was possessed by demons, but that you can’t be? I’m not sure-- Prospitans don’t toy with magic like Dersians do, so I don’t know what that’s all about but it seems… important?” You are wilting as you speak and already regret bringing it up.

“Roxy communes with demons and spirits for information. They have insight we don’t, that we cannot even understand. But they can get their claws in you if you aren’t careful. Or if you don’t care,” Dirk says, turning a page of one of his books. You don’t think he knows what he’s reading. “My father didn’t. So, here I am.”

“And you’re… you were made immune, somehow? That seems like damned useful magic.”

Why the hell did I even go this route...

I think its another type of depression thing maybe. Sometimes it manifests in this particular way, where you are extremely high functioning, but everything around you is just dialed way down.

It’s also a matter of creating a justification for this young man running a kingdom and being favored as the ruler. The sheer extent of Bad Shit that came before Dirk was outrageous, so putting him on the throne was a cause of mixed celebration. How do you feel true relief about having a new king when in the process you’re sacrificing their youth?

Derse is incredibly grateful to have their new king. But most of them also know the incredibly high cost to have him.

This is how Dirk got away with sending Dersians to Prospit. The amount of good will around Dirk is staggering and powerful in its own right.

He lets out a faint hum and sets down his pen, appearing to give up on the facade of disinterest. “How about this, Jake. I will trade you.”

You go still as a small animal in the shadow of a hawk. “Trade?”

“An answer for an answer,” he intones, voice dropping low, soft enough you almost want to lean in to hear him. “Honesty paid in kind.”

What started as idle inquiry seems a great deal more serious now. But you can’t help but edge closer, resting your crossed arms on the table. “I can agree to those terms, Your Highness. It’d be your question then, I believe?”

Dirk nods. “Did you want the regents to pick you?”

CAN’T START WITH “WHAT’S UR FAVE COLOR” GOTTA GO FOR THE JUGULAR HUH DIRK

It’s an unkind question softly given, his voice almost weirdly gentle and quiet between you.

You remember the stone room without windows. You remember the strange men in their high chairs, reading aloud their decision. But you remember the cold most of all, how it stung your knees and arms as you stood down there.

You lick your lips. “I don’t… Perhaps I wanted to be considered? I don’t disagree with their decision. But I did always want to be… important to someone.”

“For whatever it’s worth, you are.” When you breathe a laugh, Dirk’s eyes catch yours. “You are. You handle the twins so well, it helps immensely. You help keep Roxy from going stircrazy. You’re…” He clears his throat, looking away, at his fingers, rubbing at the spots of ink there.

Part of it is that Jake wanted to be considered, obviously. It’s an insult that he wasn’t. But actually being king? GOD no, no thanks.

It’s something I wanted even more emphasis on, how Jake’s role is valued around the castle. It’s not a small thing to be a caretaker and to be good at it. Dirk finds incredible worth in it, both on its face but also because it’s a massive relief to have backup when it comes to wrangling the twins.

Also yeah Dirk cuts himself off to avoid saying something he feels he doesn’t have the right to.

That is, by the way, almost always Dirk’s hangup. That even if he cares for Jake and even if he gets the feeling Jake cares for him, he will not risk taking more from Jake than he already has. Because Dirk’s dramatic like that.

There’s heat in your cheeks, but you can’t bear to hear more now. So, “It’s my turn then, is it? Right, uh…” As Dirk waits, you feel the same sensation as carrying a loaded firearm. The potential for danger in your grip. “Did you wish to be king?”

A surprised blink makes it past the impassive mask of Dirk’s face. “That’s a strange question.”

He’s completely thrown by the idea. Like asking a kitten if it wanted to be a cat someday. Like, what? Weird.

“You--” You wave a hand emphatically. “You asked me much the same!”

“Oh. I suppose I did.” He drums his fingers against the table as he considers it. “I knew it would be me.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“At the time, yes, it was. Ask something else if you are dissatisfied.”

Fine. You take your time, thinking about it. Dirk refills his tea as you watch his hands. He takes it without milk, but sweeter than you would have guessed. Eventually, the right question hits you. “Rose sees the future. Dave sees…. the dead. What do you see?”

Weird aside: I have always always always given like explicit focus on character’s drink preferences. I don’t think I’ve ever written someone having their coffee or tea black and without sugar. Because fuck that’s gross. No.

“Nothing.” Curt, clipped. Suddenly, a shutter draws over Dirk’s warm tangerine summer eyes, and you almost feel struck. Especially when Dirk continues in the same breath: “What happened to the old Queen, to earn such an end?”

HEY NOW DIRK

He’s being an ass. Which is like.... that is a core of his character. He’s in a sense forgiving and kind... until you actually hurt him. This entire story sprang from him being hurt and reacting in a way that seemed eccentric and dangerous. But really, he just... knows how to get the effect he wants and is wiling to make shit happen.

Also Dirk def knows the old Queen was a witch.

You balk immediately, startled and upset at the gall of it. He’s made a mess of a soft morning discussion, and you don’t know why. Perhaps it’s his idea of revenge for your question.

You could just not answer, but you don’t want to be defeated so easily. You have more things you want to ask. “I don’t remember. It happened when I was very young, too young to understand, and they don’t-- we don’t speak of such things.” Taking his example, you barrel on into your question. “Did you have the sort of magic your siblings do, before?”

“That wasn’t an answer,” Dirk says. His gaze is not the comfort it once was, but you cannot look away. There’s a challenge there. You want to meet it.

“It was, and it was honest. Our ways aren’t like yours.”

“Fine.” He pauses only a second before his answer. “I did. I don’t anymore.”

“Why not?”

Dirk smirks, more than a little mean. It fits his face more naturally than a smile. “Not your turn.”

“Your answer was obtuse and I can ask another. Or are you changing the rules?”

His teeth show. “Is that your question now?”

man can see how much fun i had writing this, it’s awful

not as much fun as dirk is having, to be fair

A lot of what Dirk likes in Jake is how he bristles and how he reacts so beautifully to things, and it’s great to just... poke him in a verbal joust.

You cross your arms and lean back in your chair, waiting.

He watches you with an intensity you can only call hungry for a moment, eager for what you’ll do, if you’ll snap back at him again. The keen light in his eyes that emerges every time you show him some bite should be worrying. But now, you just withhold it until he sighs and relents, nodding.

“I used to have some… affinity. But given how our last sovereign fell, we needed to ensure such things did not happen again. My father made… poor decisions.” A grimace takes over Dirk’s face before he puts it cleanly away, cool and blank again after. “The day I was coronated, they ensured I wouldn’t fall prey to the same things.”

“But how?”

Dirk does not need to answer this, but he allows it.

He doesn’t answer right away, instead staring into your eyes. Whatever he’s looking for, he seems to find, and continues: “A hardening of the heart. That’s what they called it, but it was just a euphemism for some ritual. It made me safer, and we were in sore need of safety.”

THE HAAAARDEST OF HEAAAARTS, THE HAAAARDEST OF HEARTS.

The hardening of Dirk. God lets see how I can pile up the trauma on Dirk... It’s more building of the backstory.

The fire in your gut is blown out like a candlelight, leaving something nervous and regretful behind. “Hardening your heart. What… does that entail?”

“No,” Dirk tells you, his stare making your eyes water now in your desperation to hold it. You fear even blinking might break this thing settled around you. “My turn. When you came to Derse, who decided you would ask me to dance? Was that you or your esteemed princess?”

Okay here it is. Okay.

So this is the moment when Dirk forgives Jake for what he did.

Like, up until now, there was not forgiveness between them. There was instead a sort of peace bought on reciprocal hurt. Dirk felt betrayed and humiliated by what the Prospitans did to him, especially Jake. And in return, he gave them a batshit deal to secure their future, and put Jake into this position far from home, albeit safe.

But that initial hurt has always been there, and asking this question is a confrontation of that. And it’s the only way Dirk can finally get beyond that, and that’s like... well, not step one in the healing process there (Jake hitting him prob was!) but it’s a big step.

Does that make sense? I hope it does.

Your mouth goes dry. This game no longer seems fair. But against the Prince of Derse, few are. He plays so viciously, and you feel thrown by it.

But it means something, THERE YOU GO BOY and your curiosity is unabated. Stroked to a greater flame, if anything. You swallow past the tightness in your throat. “You wouldn’t have… I didn’t…” It’s harder than you thought, even after so long. “Does it matter?”

“Ultimately, no. Was it you or her?”

“Ultimately, no,” he says, because admitting personal stakes is hard.

Part of you desperately wants to stop this. Just stand and leave. Everything inside you still feels raw and vulnerable, and Dirk’s eyes burn as they hold yours. It makes you want to cower.

You could never have been a king.

Which is not a damning offense.

“Jane thought…” You suck in a breath. “I didn’t know you then. I was nervous, and it was my first time out of Prospit. And things were so dire. When she suggested it, I…”

You don’t know what about this Dirk is looking for. What he could possible gain from a painful memory.

But he seems to get it.

The Prince’s gaze slides away, to the middle distance off your shoulder. You’ve caught him doing that so many times, dozing with his eyes open. Where he goes in his own head, you don’t know. “I don’t know what was involved. It was apparently imperative I never learned. They gave me a draught for dreamless sleep, and when I woke up it was done.”

“What did it do?”

Just as quick, as if he was prepared: “Are you unhappy here?”

Aaaaand Dirk would not have ever asked this before asking the other thing. Already things are moving faster.

You don’t stop to think about it. You don’t want to slow down enough to think right now. “No.”

The Prince seems satisfied with that, nodding. “It’s difficult to explain. I lost the hindsight of before they did it. I get the impression things were more vibrant back then.”

“What was?”

“Everything. The world’s a little further away. Or there’s something in the way. It’s as though a dark glass was put over my eyes. I don’t remember what things were like before, so it’s hard to put into words. I just know things are different. Greyer.”

“Greyer,” you repeat with numb lips. “That sounds… awful.”

oh look its more depression metaphors. hi guys, i’m a hack???? i hope you were all aware.

He shrugs. “You have to be aware of the loss to feel it. And besides, I understand the need for it.”

“Oh, Dirk...”

He looks down at the table, frowning. “It's fine. It's not everything.” His words are halting, his usual even cadence broken and forgotten. “Some things... are still bright.”

So there are two ways this could have gone actually.

One is the obvious answer: Dirk is so drawn to Jake and so in love with him that it pushes through the greyness instilled on him.

The other is the sequel-that-never-happened: All royal bloodlines are imbued with powerful magics, and as Jake’s awaken in the more magic-nurturing environment of Derse, he grows into them and purely on accident unmakes Dirk’s hardening.

But unfortunately... there was some things that I liked about the sequel ideas, especially the deeper exploration of Prospit magic vs Derse magic, but... IDK in a way it weakened ASAFAF? And I didn’t like it enough to commit to fixing that up.

SO LETS JUST GO WITH OPTION ONE THERE.

You know your next question. You already know the answer, you think.

“What things?” you whisper.

Dirk lets out a slow breath. “Not your turn.” Abruptly, he stands, picking up his parchment, his eyes on his hands and not on you. “I have to see about this coronation gift. Excuse me.”

Heh. I like that even as we are watching the power between Jake and Dirk slowly evening out over this story, there are these moments for Dirk where he has the upper hand and he uses it. It’s a ruthless streak I don’t get to write very often for any character, but I fucking enjoy it so so so much. Letting him be someone who does things that make sense but also lean hard into his power and position. IT’S FUN. HM MAYBE I SHOULD DO IT AGAIN SOON HMMMMM.

He leaves, and doesn’t ask you anything more. You feel terribly cheated.

Man I love ASAFAF. I enjoyed writing it so much. Picking a favorite AU is like picking a favorite child.

Or uh so I assume? Close as I’ll ever get.

[landofsomethingsomething]

Headcanon: Dirk has a lot of hickeys on his neck frequently

Roxy and Jane arrive together, bustling in from the chilly outdoors in a flurry of hot pink and cool cyan. Jane never seems too bothered by the cold, but Roxy is swimming in a coat so thick her head looks almost comical sprouting out the top of it. Not to mention the scarves, spilling out everywhere, trailing behind her. She catches his expression – he must have looked pretty fucking amused – and tosses her hair and lifts her chin like his opinion has only strengthened her dedication to the look. Jane follows after her, smiling and giving them a little wave as she bustles into the booth bench across from them. They both have snowflakes melting in their hair. 

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Jake greets them, flashing them an unfairly charming grin. He toys with the straw in his drink. “Glad to see you made it, weather and all.” 

“Us?” Jane laughs, folding her hands over themselves on the table. “Nonsense. This is nothing, barely a flurry. Frankly, I was afraid it would be the two of you who called off, this week!” Her eyes flicker to Dirk, and she opens her mouth like she wants to keep going, but whatever she’s about to stay gets caught in her throat, and Dirk feels his eyebrows pull down as Jane’s eyes widen and her mouth just kind of hangs there, open. 

“What?” He asks, looking over his shoulder and back again, suddenly nervous. Jane blinks. Her lips fold shut and she sits a little straighter in her seat. She adjusts her sharp cut cyan blazer, and clears her throat. Next to her, Roxy hoists her elbows on the table, rests her chin in one gloved hand, and lets out an extremely undignified little snort. Dirk glares from one to the other. “Jesus, what the fuck? Is there something wrong with my face?” His heart is actually kicking up, his palms going a little damp with nerves. What’s their problem? 

“No, Dirk, your face is as sharply inscrutable as ever,” Jane says, but she’s looking out the window as she says in, and her voice is strained. 

Dirk pins Roxy with a glare he can feel deepening by the second. She meets his eyes and waggles her eyebrows at him, smirking. “What the fuck is her problem,” Dirk demands. 

“Wait, is there a problem?” Jake interjects beside him, and now he sounds nervous, too. Great. “I didn’t think there was a problem. We were just saying hello!” 

“Hello, Jakey,” Roxy agrees, and her scarves are piled so high around her neck and chin her voice is almost muffled into them. “And a great big hello there to you too, Mr. Strider,” she drawls this out like some kind of classical southern belle – her passion for imitating (and exaggerating!) Dave’s goddamn accent has got to stop. Dirk frowns, leaning back in his seat, tapping his fingers on the table. 

“See?” Jake says, sounding relieved. 

“How long have the two of you been here waiting for us?” Roxy goes on, fluttering her eyelashes. Dirk narrows his eyes at her, but she isn’t look at him anymore. 

“Oh, you know. Not long enough to make your entrance unfashionable, I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to know,” Jake says, and Roxy nods along. 

“Long enough to have gotten ‘round to some extracurriculars though, I see!” 

“Erm, what?” 

Jake blinks, tilting his head, and Jane whips her head around and hisses, “Roxy!” 

“Shit, you’re right, that’s silly. They’d never, would they, not in a place like this. This morning, then? Last night…?” She draws this last one out, and Dirk is just gaping at her, because he knows what she’s implying but he has no idea fucking – why?

Jane buries her face in her hands and makes a defeated sound, and in utter and bewildering contrast, Jake snaps up ramrod straight and gasps, “Oh!” 

“What the fuck?” Dirk asks again, this time directing it at him. 

“You’re talking about,” Jake makes a general gesture at Dirk, and he’s got these spots of color high and ruddy on his cheeks, but he’s not exactly wilting the way Jane is. 

“Great,” Jane says, muffled into her hands. “Now let’s all endeavor to do our best not to talk about it, please and thank you very much!” 

“Not to talk about what?” Dirk demands, and his expression has to be downright thunderous, by now, but Jake just gives him a nervous little laugh, Jane folds her arms on the table and collapses her face down into them, and Roxy waggles her eyebrows at him again.

“How about this,” Roxy says, and she straightens up and starts to unwind one of her scarves – black and purple and probably a gift from Rose. “You put this on and make yourself decent, so poor Jane here can enjoy her dinner without self immolating, how’s that?” She holds it out. 

“Make myself… decent,” Dirk says, eyeing it, and suddenly it clicks. “Oh my god,” he says, startling in his seat, reflexively pulling his collar up while the familiar heat of humiliation floods him. Roxy is laughing, again. Jane makes a defeated sound. He twists and glares daggers at Jake. “You said I looked fine!” He insists, and Jake shrinks back against the wall, but he’s biting his lip to keep from laughing, Dirk knows that god damn look. 

“Well, fuck me, Dirk, you did! You do. You always look damn fine, what am I supposed to say?” 

“God damn it,” Dirk says, and Roxy shakes the scarf at him. 

“Take it,” she says. He hesitates. “Do it for Jane, Dirk,” she insists, nudging her chin in her direction. Jane still has her head buried in her arms, and her shoulders are shaking with what Dirk thinks is laughter she’s desperately trying to keep quiet. “For Jane.” 

“God – fine, Jesus, give it here,” he snaps, and Jake makes a derisive little sound, and Dirk elbows him in the ribs, hard. Jake shoves him back. “Asshole,” Dirk mutters. 

“Y’all are so sweet,” Roxy says, fluttering her lashes, again, and Jane lifts her head. Her glasses are crooked on her face. She sits up and straightens them, calmly. 

“I’m going to flag down the waiter, now,” she informs them, in tones that aren’t to be argued with. “And we’re all going to forget that any of this ever happened.” 

“Amen,” Dirk says. 

“Roger that,” Jake agrees. 

“Fiiiine,” Roxy sighs, and Jane nods – but Crocker convinction and all, she still can’t quite meet his eyes for the rest of the night. 

[inudono]

Country in the Clouds - Lords and Gods

I’ve been in a writing mood since I can’t draw for long, so here’s another portion of Country in the Clouds. Commentary and feedback is always appreciated.

A dwarven kairg had to be seen to be believed. These underground cities were the definition of oppulent, and the Stonelords take every opportunity to brag about their greatness. Vinsen Dirk stood in awe at the grand entrance to Kairg-Duthlon; massive diamond gates carved into the mountainside lined with gold, silver, and numerous precious gemstones.

"Vaanosh Goldtongue certainly spares no expense..." Vinsen sat at the side of the road with his caravan entourage awaiting the envoy from the Kairg to usher them inside. "How long does he intend to keep us out here?"

"As long as he pleases." Ellena Dusken, the drow spymatron replied. "When one owns quite literally everything on the Southern Continent, everyone tends to march to their beat, and their beat alone."

"He could at least give us a rough estimate." Vinsen folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. It was a several days ride from Starshore to Kairg-Duthlon. Vinsen had only made the trip once before; when he and his husband Ricard first treatied with Highlord Goldtongue. Back then it felt like they waited outside the Kairg longer than the actual journey -to- the Kairg. Vinsen hoped that he would not have to repeat that process, now that he was on better terms with the Stonelords; that is to say, had proven to be an excellent source of income for them.

"Even if the Highlord did, he'd be under no obligation to actually keep it." Ellena said as she adjusted her cloak.

"Ricard gets to go sailing and exploring the high seas, while I get stuck outside a shiny gate." Vinsen rolled his eyes.

"Count your blessings, my lord." Ellena peered across the road leading away from Kairg-Duthlon. "It appears we have company."

Tagging for interest:

@perpetuallyfallingover @dancing-sword @the-foxwolf @confused-phyrexian

The chirping of birds and bugs were drowned out by the rhythmic beating of drums, gradually approaching the Starshore caravan. The source of music quickly made itself known, as an entourage of massive figures came into view.

"Orcs." Ellena Dusken frowned and pulled her cloak's hood over her head. "Goldtongue keeps interesting company."

Savage, yet noble creatures, the orcs of the Southern Continent were great and mighty warriors, towering over all but the dragonkin, and even measuring up to some. They were a shamanistic sort, keeping to their encampments and worshipping the goddess Gaia. They were quick to anger and conflicts against them never ended well. Throughout the wars that plagued the Four Continents, an orc's loyalty was highly prized, but extremely volatile.

"Are they a threat?" Vinsen raised an eyebrow, concerned.

"Of course." The spymatron replied. "So be humble, show respect, and we'll all remain in one piece."

The group was lead by an overly muscular woman with skin as black as charcoal, in contrast to the bright furs and feathers she draped herself in. Her hair was tied in an enormous braid, so long that another orc was carrying it behind her. A pair of orcs next to her were carrying an outrageously large greataxe, probably as tall as the woman in the centre, and just as thick as the orc's muscles.

"Who-" Vinsen began.

"Their War-God." Ellena interupted, quickly dropping to a knee, and motioning Vinsen to do the same. "Keep your head down, and speak only when spoken to."

"Who is this that stands before a God?" The orc woman's voice bellowed as her entourage approached Vinsen's.

"Erm... Vinsen Dirk. Lord of Starshore." Vinsen said with moderate authority, attempting to make eye contact.

"Your Eminence." Ellena said under her breath.

"Your Eminence." Vinsen repeated.

"A God has learned, and acknowledges this Lord." the War-God snapped her fingers and the two orcs carrying the giant greataxe approached. Upon inspection, the weapon's blade was crafted from Celesteel. "A God knows the human men from the shore of stars, responsible for the creation of mighty World Carver."

"In a way, I suppose we are." Vinsen examined the weapon. It was clearly of orcish design, made for much larger hands than that of a human or elf. Vinsen had no say in where his husband's patented Celesteel ended up after it was sent away to Kairg-Duthlon, so it made sense that some would end up in an orc's forge. "Might I ask your na-"

"This Lord speaks above his station." The War-God took Vinsen by his collar, hoisting him off his feet as if he were a simple rag. "He would be wise to bite his tongue, lest it be bitten off for him."

Vinsen audibly gulped, before being dropped onto the dirt road. The War-God let out a thunderous laugh, quickly joined by the other orcs. She picked up Vinsen just as easily, setting him on his feet and dusted off his clothing a moment before patting him on the shoulder.

"A God jests of course. Her name is Hej. War-God of the South." Hej held out her hand, presumably as an offer to be shaken. Vinsen held out his after a moment of hesitation, and shook. The orc woman's grip was firm, yet surprisingly gentle. There was a whisper of a sigh of relief coming from Ellena, and other members of Vinsen's caravan.

"A God expects to see this Lord beneath the depths of Duthlon. He will feast with us this evening." Hej grinned a toothy smile before snapping her fingers again, approaching the diamond gateway with her group. Kairg-Duthlon's gates began to crack open, as a dwarven man wrapped in elaborate gold robes stepped out of the portcullis.

"Your Eminence, War-God Hej..." The usher said, taking a knee. " The Highlord is expecting you."

"Hey-" Vinsen stepped forward, stopping short as Ellena quickly grabbed him.

"Not. Now." She wrapped her hand over his mouth.

"A God acknowledges this request; and demands this Highlord treat with this not so high Lord as well." Hej motioned to Vinsen Dirk.

"Of course, Your Eminence." The usher stands and turns to the caravan. "I welcome you all to Kairg-Duthlon."

Hej and her orcs marched through the diamond gates with the dwarven usher following behind them. Vinsen Dirk and Ellena Dusken stood with their group for a moment, gathering up their belongings and making their way inside.

"You handled yourself adequetely my lord." Ellena lowered her hood. "I confess, you had me concerned for a moment."

"I don't know where I'd be without you, Lady Ellena. I am in your debt." Vinsen let out a small chuckle.

"I'll add you to my list then." Ellena smirked. "Let us carry on. Kairg Duthlon awaits."

[disco-computer]

JACKET

It was a brisk Fall evening in Seattle, Dirk & Todd were exhausted from trying to track down where that random horse came from, they'd been at it all day and Todd is slightly burnt from the autumn sunshine. Dirk has an almost sore leg from all that running. "I'm glad that's over" announced Todd after a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I never wanna see that guy's face again!" agreed Dirk. After walking for a while back towards the flat, the cool air was all of a sudden starting to set in as it does this time of the year around sundown, though Todd had been burning up all day he was now feeling cold from the Fall air. His casual ripped jeans and thin band tee shirt were beginning to chill him. "Hey, are you cold? Take my jacket." "Dirk, I could never! You always wear your detective jacket" But by then Dirk had already pulled it off and Todd felt the coziness around his shoulders from the lining already warm by Dirk's body heat. It felt nice and even had a light scent of Dirk's British Leather cologne, which Todd loved. "There, that's better. Yellow looks good on you!" Dirk admired how it really brought out his assistants' - erm - best friends' eyes. It was like they sparkled light blue. Dirk felt himself blushing a bit and tried to get distracted by the evening sky. "Ah yes, this is nice and comfy. Thanks, Dirk" "You know Todd, I'm really glad you are here to help me." "What do you mean?" asked Todd. "I mean...I like you, a lot. Well, more than a lot." Todd smiled and looked back at Dirk, who's hair was slightly messy from the day's events but god, he was so gorgeous. A magical detective Todd often enjoyed fantasizing about regularly, in which he was usually underneath of. The empty public park they walked through was right around the corner from where they lived, the two of them took a break and sat on the bench. "Dirk, I'm glad you think so." And Todd kissed him, holding Dirk tight and close to his body. It was an amazing moment for Dirk too, the boy he'd been crushing on since day 1 when they met outside that old hotel lobby where Todd used to work, after he'd tracked him down. The two held each other close, Todd's right hand resting on Dirk's thigh. Todd finally had what he wanted, Dirk Gently in his arms in what was clearly turning into a make-out session. He slid his tongue out of Dirk's mouth. "I think we better head back now, were almost home and you're going to get cold next if we stay here all night!" "Oh, okay! Well, I don't know about that..." says a happy Dirk, smiling from ear to ear. Dirk and Todd holding hands, finally reach the pavement leading to their appartment. Todd who felt nice and secure wearing his boyfriend's jacket returned it to Dirk, and thought of a great way to pay him back for it tonight. A nice dinner perhaps, or something better.

[lavellington]

3 Random Things Meme

Okay, so @nekosmuse​ tagged me in the three random things meme, and I had the obligatory moment of “but I’m not an interesting person” panic before I decided to suck it up. Here you all go. Since I’m mostly in Dirk Gently fandom at the moment, I’ll start off with something both important to me and thematically relevant:

1) I first read the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy in a caravan in Wales.

Douglas Adams was a game changer for me. I grew up in a house where no one was particularly into sci-fi, and my only exposure to science fiction or fantasy narratives were Harry Potter (I’m a Harry Potter brat forever), Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I guess high concept 90s movies à la Big or Groundhog Day. 

When I was fifteen I read Douglas Adams, which was my gateway to Doctor Who, which was my gateway to Star Trek, which sealed my fate. Most importantly, I thought they were HILARIOUS. I have never laughed so hard at any other book as I laughed at h2g2 or Dirk Gently. To this day, I don’t think any other writer has influenced my adult taste or sense of humour as much as Douglas Adams.

To claim that I first read h2g2 in a caravan in Wales is slightly disingenuous, as I had actually already devoured the first four books in the series at that point, and was reading Mostly Harmless, which I brought with me on our family holiday. Plenty of our family holidays involved caravans, usually in Ireland or the UK, so I always brought a few books in case we got rained in and I got sick of playing board games. I have an extremely vivid memory of being trapped in this tiny caravan with my parents and younger brother for an epic, howling storm of at least three days’ duration, and trying to explain to my mother what was so funny that I literally couldn’t breathe through my laughter.

(It was this bit:

“If any of them had chosen to look out of the window at that moment, they would have been startled by the sight of Ford Prefect dropping past them to his certain death and flipping v-signs at them.” )

I think the writing of Douglas Adams, especially “Mostly Harmless” and “Dirk Gently and the Long Dark Tea Time of the Soul” introduced me to the concept of gallows humour in a way that appealed to the depths of my soul. Things could be sad, and clever, and funny, and I spent the remaining few years of my adolescence probably being very puffed up and irritating about this fact.

2) I’m a vegan.

Okay, if you have any “vegan at a dinner party” jokes, get them out of your system right now. I don’t have enough interesting hobbies or personal attributes to leave this out. 

I went vegan last year, and it’s actually been pretty okay in terms of regulating my diet and so on. My main struggles have been as follows:

- People getting pre-emptively defensive and assuming I’m going to give them shit for eating meat or dairy or whatever, which inevitably results in them saying something along the lines of:  “Don’t you think a lion would eat you if it got the chance?”

Buddy. What do you think you’re arguing, here?

- Going home to visit my parents and forgetting that living in Dublin (an actual city) has spoiled me slightly in terms of dining choices, so that every time I go to a local restaurant with my family I am surprised all over again that the only thing I can eat is bread and sometimes pasta.

- Having to scan the ingredients of every fucking chocolate bar I pick up 

- “Vegan at a dinner party” jokes.

Mostly it’s been pretty okay, and I’ve been trying to also switch to cruelty free makeup etc, which brings me to my next point...

3) I work in high end retail, and I’m very conflicted about it.

Working in a swanky department store is not all you might expect it to be. You are much less likely to be seduced by Cate Blanchett and much more likely spending your day pretending not to be horrified at people casually dropping €800 on a small, black handbag. 

I work for a makeup and skincare company, which shall remain nameless, but which is not cruelty free. I found out the other day that our brushes are made from animal hair. In fact, in a disturbing twist, our lip brush is 100% weasel. I figure I’m not the only person to ever experience the cognitive dissonance of working at a job which conflicts with most of their personal beliefs, and I have to pay the rent, but it’s a weird situation for me.

There’s also the “It’s a stopgap job!” conflict, which is the mantra I’ve been repeating for the last five years. In my head, I only work in retail until I can either work in publishing or get back into academia, but after years of doing freelance proofreading/editing on the side and taking numerous, soul-crushing internships, I’m feeling a little worn down. Mostly this results in me watching old episodes of Friends and strongly over-identifying with Rachel and Chandler.

On the other hand, working in retail is sometimes kind of fun. I’ve had office jobs in the past as well (most notably when I lived in England and worked in an office in Reading, which is near to Slough, where The Office is set. This fact caused me to laugh on a near daily basis, and was not nearly as amusing to my co-workers), and on one memorable occasion worked as a door-to-door salesperson, which was its own level of hell. Any of these jobs can be kind of funny if you’re determined to be positive about it. My Weirdest Customer award probably still goes to that guy who approached me in a department store coming up to Christmas and opened with:

Him: Have you ever seen the movie Perfume?

Me (backing away slightly): Erm...yes?

Him: Do you have any perfumes like that?

Me: Like...perfume made of...people?

Him: Well, one of them was made of hair.

Me: No. I don’t sell any perfumes made of human hair.

Woman standing nearby: *uncontrollable laughter*

Luckily, he left before attempting to kill anyone or start an orgy.

So, there you are. Sorry it took me so long, @nekosmuse. I guess I have to tag three people, so... @ivyblossom @acloudofunknowing @vands88 TAG, YOU’RE IT.

[corvid-knight]

Sealskin

Jake tries to return a coat he happened to find, with some...interesting results. As in, he's now engaged to a selkie and a fae prince. He's not sure how to handle this.

(Backstory on how Jake met Dirk and Cronus in the Fantasystuck AU.)

(Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13524405)

You just wanted to return a lost item of clothing, and of course it isn't that simple.

First off, you've no idea who the fur coat belongs to. It's too large for you, it's heavy and the fur is snowy and soft and smells like clean salt water and the wind off the ocean, but that doesn't help with identification. It looks like it cost a pretty penny, though, and you intend to see it returned to its proper owner.

In the two days that you try to think of exactly how you'll do that, you find yourself sleeping with it by your bed, then giving up and using it as a blanket. The owner might not be happy with you for that, but it's extremely warm, and you dream of flying when you sleep wrapped in it.

(...or perhaps the dreams are of swimming, darting through the deep water in pursuit of shimmering shining things. You're not sure.)

Your cousin's the one who suggests the solution to your dilemma. He might be not-quite-ten, but he's a bright boy, in regards to most things. He tells you that mages and sorcerers can find anything, Jake, anything, and gives you a wide bucktoothed grin. For that bit of wisdom you give him the cactus you've just finished replanting in the sky-blue flowerpot you know he's liked since you made it, and start thinking about what kind of magic-talented people are available to you.

Since you have a distinct lack of funds, the choice isn't a difficult one. The lady of shadows who lives by the edge of town and takes in every stray cat that sits outside her house and laments to her agrees to trade half your stock of catmint for a tracing spell. She hands you a stone and tells you to turn until it grows warm in your hand, then go the way you're facing. The enchantment only lasts a few days, she says, and you thank her and reassure her that it won't take you days.

Actually, it takes perhaps an hour and a half before you track down the correct house and stand outside the door. You almost forget to slip the coat off and drape it over one arm as if you weren't wearing it at all, before you knock.

The man that answers is probably not human. You have little experience with fae or other magical creatures, but his eyes are wide and violet, absolutely stunning against skin the color of good dark honey. Pure humans don't have eyes that color. His white shirt might be plain but it's definitely not poorly made or cheap, and his teeth are the sharp points of a meat-eater as he smiles at you and runs one hand through wet black hair.

"Uh..." Gods, he's lovely. What were you here for again? "Sorry, hello, I believe I've found something that belongs to you!" And you hold out the coat, offering it up with both hands.

He doesn't take it immediately, which is...strange. Stranger still is the look that passes across his face—would that be fear? It's replaced with confusion, and then, as he looks up to meet your eyes, what looks like delight. "Dirk?" he calls, looking back over his shoulder. (His voice is as attractive as the rest of him, rougher than the honey of his skin but still somehow smooth, deeper than yours even though this man is slim and barely a head taller than you.) "Dirk, chief, you need to get your ass out and see who's brought me something back."

"I just wanted to bring your coat back," you protest as the lovely man wraps an arm around your shoulders and guides you through the door. (He still hasn't taken said coat out of your arms, and you can't help but hug it nervously to your chest.) "There really doesn't need to be a fuss—"

"Cronus?" A second man steps through the door into the next room, and you abruptly lose all ability to do anything, including breath. If the man who answered the door—Cronus—is lovely, this one is...oh, gods, you would gladly die, looking at him. He's shirtless, pale-skinned, all angles and planes that fall together into a body that makes you long to see what his loose trousers hide. His hair is golden waves pulled back into a loose ponytail, wisps escaping to frame his angular face and accent his amber eyes.

He's smiling at you. His mouth quirks up at one corner, and you can't think.

"Babe, shit, you're—" Cronus begins, in a tone that suggests alarm even though there's obviously no reason to worry with this beautiful golden being in the vicinity.

The aforementioned beautiful being looks down at himself, sighs, very calmly says, "Fuck. In my defense, I wasn't expecting a human," and...does something. You aren't sure what. It somehow lessens the aura of beauty around him, though, and you remember what lungs are again. "Sorry."

"I'm, um." Words are a bit harder. "Hello."

"He's got my coat," Cronus points out, and steps back quickly as you try to offer it to him again. "Hold up, kiddo, I think you'd better hold onto that for a minute."

The other one—Dirk? You think Cronus called him Dirk, although your memory's abruptly a bit hazy on the events of the last few minutes'—tilts his head, examining you with eyes that might be made of molten gold. "He does have your coat."

"Should I take it?"

"I mean..." Dirk shrugs, mouth twisting up into an amused smile. "He is cute. But then again, I don't think he knows exactly what he's doing."

"That's quite true," you feel the need to add. "I'm. Erm. Confused."

The two of them trade glances that seem to exchange a wealth of information that you're not privy to, and then Cronus steps back to stand next to Dirk, facing you.

"I'm—" Dirk begins, then shakes his head, takes a deep breath, and starts again. "My name is Dirk Strider, prince of the Summer Fae, currently in chosen exile. This—"

"My name is Cronus Ampora." The dark-haired man looks both determined and afraid, and you're not sure why. "Consort—"

"Husband," Dirk corrects gently.

"...yeah. Husband of the prince of the Summer Fae. Child of the sea, who the sea's disowned for losing half my nature." He huffs, gesturing at the coat in your arms with the hand that's not clutching Dirk's. "Which you're kinda holding."

"Uh..." You're still lost, not that you intend to say that. Dirk's fae, alright, you don't—

Wait. Wait.

He just told you his name. A prince of the fae freely told you his name, without coercion or trickery.

"...oh, dear." You hear the woefully inadequate words slip out of your mouth.

Dirk's eyes widen, and even though he's a good five feet away from you it's only a heartbeat before he's standing at your side, taking hold of your arm and offering support that you may actually need. "Are you all right?" he asks, and you don't know what to make of the genuine-seeming concern in his voice.

"I don't want your name!" It comes out as an embarrassing almost-wail, and you try to cover your face with your hands. This leads to your remembering that you're still holding the fur coat. Without thinking you raise it enough to bury your face in it, taking a calming breath of its salty scent. This muffles your voice a bit when you continue. "I'm no one, why in the bloody fucking hell would you give me that?"

"...mostly because you just came in and proposed to my husband." Dirk's voice is calm and full of amusement, but those words still snap your head up out of the soft fur so fast it actually makes you dizzy.

I've offended one of the fair folk, you think. Gods, I'm dead.

He's smiling. It's reassuring. Cronus is beside him, and he just looks excited.

Again, you hold out the coat. "Please just take this and let me go home." Your voice is shaking and you can't do anything about that. "My apologies, I'm so very sorry, I swear I'll make amends in any way you want me to..." Please don't turn me into an animal. Or kill me. I don't want to die!

Dirk and Cronus exchange another look. Then the former pulls you into the other room, giving you a gentle push towards a chair and taking a seat himself.

"So," he says, leaning towards you a little and hurriedly reversing the movement as you can't help but flinch. "Cronus could take his coat back from you, but then you'd need to either stay here, or he'd have to go home with you."

"Why?" You don't understand anything.

"I'm a selkie," Cronus offers. "That's—"

"...I know what it is, thank you." That may have been rude. You sigh and adjust the heavy coat in your lap—that is sealskin, isn't it? Gods, you can't believe you didn't realize that. And if a mortal returns a selkie's coat, it is considered as a binding proposal of marriage. Oh, dear. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...um. Intrude?"

"You haven't." They both say it at precisely the same moment. It's Cronus who continues. "Sweetheart, if I'm going to be bound to another lover, you seem like a pretty damn good option. Attractive, obviously a good person, hot, pretty, lovely—"

"Cro, stop. You're going to make the poor human implode." Dirk stifles a laugh.

"Thank you." How on earth do you stop blushing? "Dirk..."

"Yes?"

"You're not...upset about this?"

He just shrugs, glancing over at Cronus before focusing on you. "I mean, if you try to take him from me against his will, I'm more than willing to call all the forces I have at my disposal down on your head, but if you just want to date him, marry him, love him?" Another shrug, and a smile that almost sets you at ease again. "You gain two partners, rather than one. Assuming you'd like me as well as him."

"Yes." Oh, gods, you didn't mean to say that out loud, but you might as well commit. "Um. If you're sure you're all right with that state of affairs?" Okay, so that does not qualify as committing, but you're still rattled.

"Absolutely all right." Dirk nods.

Cronus gives you a sharp-toothed grin and shifts to the edge of his chair, leaning forward to take your hand and raise it to his lips. (You don't flinch this time.) His skin is cool when he presses a kiss against the back of your hand. "Keep the coat," he says softly. "Least until you work out what the hell you're getting into. We don't want to trap you in something, do we?"

"Uh..." You're not sure what the right answer is, and it's difficult to think anyway when he's holding your hand oh-so-gently. But you do think of something that it's very important you say. "...my name is Jake. Jake English."

"Jake," Cronus repeats, and you can see Dirk mouthing your name behind him. "English. Good name."

You don't know how to answer that, either, but you smile at him.

You leave several hours later with the coat around your shoulders and an order for half a dozen potted rosemary seedlings in your pockets. The next time you stay longer, and eventually there is a night when you don't leave at all, but sleep in the spare room. After that, there's a morning when you wake up with the fae sprawled out across half the bed and the selkie curled up as close as he can possibly get to your side, and—months further along—mornings when you wake up in a tangle of long limbs and discarded clothes wound up in the blankets. By that time the coat stays hung by the door, owned by all of you equally, and you've moved everything you own that isn't plants to their house, and converted your smaller house to a shop where you sell plants that may or may not carry the ambient magic of your partners.

All you meant to do was return a coat.

You're not sure you really ever manage to do that, but this is a much better outcome.