#first time i got the colors right without any effect woo

[mochaclouds08]

got inspired by one of Lautrec´s paintings so heres ghostsoap as The Kiss <3

here´s the original painting! we saw it in art history class recently and i couldnt get it out of my head since so i had to make it about them :,)

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 12

Masterlist

Winding down from the frenzy of the last chapter... Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit​ for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤

Word Count: 5.9k

Recommended song: "I Don't Care" by Fall Out Boy

“Mon amour, wake up.”

Pierre’s sleep-heavy voice rouses you from the best sleep you’d had in a long time. You’d fallen asleep to the sounds of his even breathing under the soothing touch of his thumb tracing patterns on your side.

You crack your eyes open to see him silhouetted by the white light of the waning moon, his bare chest left uncovered by the blanket slung low over his hips. The sight alone has your mind instantly jumping into overdrive, fighting the need to sleep with the need to continue ogling the bare skin a foot from your face.

“I let you sleep as long as I could,” he says softly, reaching behind him for his phone. “We have to be on the M1 in about half an hour.”

“Mmmph,” you groan, snuggling back under the blanket and closer to him, chasing the warmth radiating from him. “The sun isn’t even out.”

His chuckle shakes the bed. “I figured you would say that which is why I made you breakfast and picked out your clothes. All you have to do is brush your teeth and get dressed.” 

You hum appreciatively and press a kiss to his bare sternum. “Is this how you’re going out today? Because I won’t complain but you might cause a few heart attacks.” A kiss to your temple is a small reward for your comment, as well as a concession.

"Don't worry, this is reserved only for you." He stretches an arm above his head, grinning when your eyes immediately are drawn to the way the muscles ripple and pull under his skin. You stare shamelessly as he flexes a little for your benefit, the action going straight to your head. 

"As it should be." You bite your lip and let your fingertips dance over his chest, memorizing the way it rises and falls so predictably with each deep breath. Against your better judgement you trail kisses up over his pectoral and spot them along his shoulder, dragging another light chuckle from him.

"My love," he warns, voice tinted with mischief, "we don't have time."

"Oh I think we do." You continue your path over his collarbone and to the hollow of his throat. Taking advantage of his biggest weakness, you flick your tongue over his prominent adam’s apple. The move has his hand engulfing your upper arm, giving you a warning squeeze.

"As wonderful as this is" -he sucks in a sharp breath when your teeth graze his neck- "if I'm late Horner will kill me."

"What's new?" You say, but draw back. The mere mention of his name made you see red and shattered the moment. "Do you really want to go back to Red Bull after how they treated you?"

"No," he admits, slipping an arm around you and tugging you up and into a sitting position, taking advantage of the momentary lapse of lust. "But if I want a shot with a top team when my contract is up, I don’t have much choice."

"Where do you see yourself going?"

Pierre studies you as you slip into the clothes he had selected for you. Nothing fancy, just an AlphaTauri branded navy and white hoodie and some light wash jeans. You don't miss the way his lips twitch upward when you notice it's his hoodie, his last name embroidered in block font on the cuff a dead giveaway even if the hoodie hadn't been ridiculously oversized on you.

Cheeky bastard.

"I think I would look good in sunshine yellow," he remarks. You make a show of looking him up and down under the pretense of imagining him in a Renault branded hoodie or their signature black race suit. Truthfully it was just another excuse to drink him in like the fine wine he was and recall how he had tasted on your tongue last night.

He would look good in any color on the grid but you don't grant him the satisfaction of pointing that out. Instead, you lean forward to toy with the waistband of the jeans he had hastily buttoned seconds earlier. "You and Daniel get along just fine." You snag him by the belt loops and yank him forward back onto the bed. "I think you should go to McLaren.”

“I’d still look good in orange.”

You wind your fingers under his waistband. “I think you’d look best wearing nothing at all, actually.”

“The time,” Pierre protests lightly when you pop open the button and undo the zipper. He groans when you yank the denim down around his thighs, finally submitting to your touch and lacing his fingers in your hair. Your lips explore the planes of his abdomen, any and all thoughts of speed abandoned on your end. "If you don't hurry up we're gonna be late."

"Maybe you'll just have to drive fast. I hear you’re good at that."

**********

"So how is it that they got your car all the way to London?"

"It's got its own private jet."

You roll your eyes and smack the hand resting on your thigh. His response is a light squeeze and a chuckle before he continues, "They've got a few spares they keep around for when drivers come to town. I can't be seen in a Mini or it would cause a scandal."

"Oh yes it would be quite tragic." His hand charts a dangerous path along your thigh. He knows exactly what he's doing as he slots a thumb between your legs and presses it tight to the apex of your thighs.

You snap your knees shut, effectively trapping his hand "Now you're just being cruel."

"Only dishing out what you did this morning," he points out and wiggles his hand free to rest on your knee instead. The message was clear: he had shaken you well enough for his liking and was perfectly content to leave you frustrated until he could get you home.

“So catch me up on what I’ve missed,” you say, determined to distract yourself from Pierre’s slight teasing. “What’s new in the life of the rising star in Formula 1?”

“Rising star,” Pierre mumbles and rolls his eyes. “Not yet, my love. Getting there, but not yet.”

“Please, you’re too modest. Last night when you fell asleep- you were out like a light as soon as your head hit the pillow, don't give me that look!” Pierre picks his jaw up off the floor and shakes his head as you continue, “I read plenty of articles that called you the next big thing, right up there with Max.”

The comparison didn't seem to sit right with him. He shifts in his seat, rolling words over on his tongue. “I’m sure you’re caught up then. I haven’t done anything really besides train and race.”

“I did notice you’ve beefed up a bit.”

“Yet another reason to thank Pyry.”

“At this point I should send him a fruit basket for his trouble.”

“Maybe you should.” Pierre grins, hand leaving your thigh for a split second to upshift. “What about you? How’s year four treating you?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” you groan. “My senior project is already killing me and I’ve only just started it. We have to design a building from the ground up- I mean I like architecture but I’m trying to be an engineer, not an architect. I dunno why I have to be the one to design a building! At this point it’s just a brick box.”

“Sounds challenging,” Pierre notes, flooring it when he merges onto the highway. Though the speed makes your stomach flip, you don’t miss a beat.

“My team doesn’t do much either, I’ve been doing most of it. I could rant for hours about it.”

Pierre glances at the clock, then back to you. The blue of his eyes is blocked by his signature purple tinted sunglasses, shielding them from the rising sun that casts him in a warm orange glow. “Humor me. We’ve got time.”

The hour and a half drive was by no means dull with Pierre's teasing touches and endless string of questioning along the way. He asked after every aspect of your life that had transpired in the last four months, only stopping you once in a while to interject with an opinion or anecdote.  He didn't stop at your life either, even asking after Ben's relationship. You'd been happy to report that he had indeed wooed his crush and had officially asked him to be his boyfriend.

"Those secret French lessons paid off," Pierre jokes as he pulls up to the imposing glass fronted building that served as Red Bull Racing's headquarters. The sweeping curve of the entrance was flanked on either side by two-story red and yellow bulls; proof that the team's dramatics extended far past the track. Anyone approaching for the first time would have been intimidated by the sheer size of them that suggested they were ready to stomp on their competition at a moment’s notice.

“Guess it’s time.” You sigh and undo your seatbelt and fiddle with the buckle, doing your best to stall. There was no reason to be this nervous. You were no one to these people; the focus would be entirely on Pierre. You would be an afterthought, not that you minded because it made it easier to fade into the background. 

Pierre picks up on your hesitation in a heartbeat. “I’ll keep them off your back,” he promises and you nod, the single sentence taking the edge off. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You reach for the door handle but Pierre tsks and you pause.

"You know better." You bite your lip to keep back the grin fighting its way to the surface as he comes around to open your door. He offers you his hand and you gladly take it and are pleasantly surprised when he threads his fingers through yours and heads for the entrance.

The atrium serving as the lobby is breathtakingly gorgeous. You had to hand it to the interior designer; they knew what they were doing. Sleek white marble floors are accented by red and yellow leather chairs scattered in small groups throughout the grand space. A tiered circular modern interpretation of a chandelier hangs above to offer guidance to the accountants, engineers and artists that weave through the lobby on their way to their respective wings or offices.

A waist high, glass front cabinet of drivers helmets serves as the reception desk. The unmistakable scent of a fresh cup of coffee hits you as you approach and the secretary hands a steaming paper cup to someone before they scurry off, presumably to a private office if they were important enough to warrant special attention. The first rays of morning sunlight glint off the silver Red Bull logo inlaid in the black marble behind the woman at the counter, making you squint.

"Bonjour Monsieur Gasly," she says in perfect French. "Ça va?"

"Bien," he says simply and switches to English for your benefit. "Has Christian come through yet?"

"He has," the woman says, glancing sidelong at you. Whatever conclusions she draws about you are insignificant enough that she writes you off immediately, angling her body towards Pierre and resting her chin in her hand. The posturing puts her ample chest on display, nearly spilling out of her billowing blouse, but Pierre's eyes don't wander. "He's not expecting you yet. Voulez-vous un cafe?"

"I'm good." The woman may have been determined to alienate you but Pierre was having none of it. Pierre turns to you, a grin playing on his face. This was your first test as an official couple and he intended to see how you handled it. "How about you, my love? Coffee?"

The woman's eyes slip to where your hand remains clasped in his. She cocks her head so slightly you think you might be imagining it until Pierre's grip tightens, a silent encouragement. Your confidence soars. If this was how Daniel's girlfriend felt when the two of them were out, you finally understood why they didn't hide. It was a rush knowing that everyone wanted Pierre but he only wanted you. No matter how blatantly women threw themselves at him, there was no doubt in your mind that he would never give a single one of them the light of day.

It was about damn time you afforded him the same unwavering commitment as he had shown you.

"No thank you," you reply sweetly with a mocking smile directed to the woman. You lean in and drop your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You might want to fix your shirt though, it’s… slipped. I know I'd hate for that to happen to me and no one tell me, especially at work. I don't think I'd ever recover from it."

Her face immediately turns scarlet as she stands straight and folds her arms over her chest. "If I were you-"

"Let Horner know I'm here," Pierre interrupts and it's somehow the hottest thing he's ever said. His purely commanding tone leaves no room for argument. 

"Of course," she replies with a sharp smile in your direction that makes your spine stiffen. "Good luck. Christian is in rare form this morning."

"Just ignore it," Pierre murmurs and sweeps his thumb over the back of your hand as he leads you across the cold marble and down a carpeted hall. "You handled that well.”

“I may have gotten a few pointers from Daniel’s lover.” Your soft smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The short interaction had sapped most of your confidence, leaving you on uneven footing. “I would rather not have to deal with that again soon though.”

“I can handle the women easy enough when I know I’ve got you to come home to.”

The tightness in your chest eases further when the hall opens into another startlingly white space, this time packed with rows and rows of navy cubicles. But that's not where your attention is drawn- instead, your gaze is immediately snagged by the case of trophies towering high along the back wall. Cups of every shape and size shine within, each one representing a different podium for the team achieved in various years and tracks.

"There must be over a hundred," you breathe, mesmerized by the glinting silver and intricate craftsmanship. The case was easily thirty feet tall and you had to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the ones in the top row. Each one told a story of blood, sweat and tears, each one earned by a driver who had made countless sacrifices to be where they were and finish on a podium.

"A hundred and eighty five to be exact," he counters, laughing at your amusement. "Your inner architect is screaming isn't it?"

"Only a little." 

Pierre laughs outright at your white lie and tugs you along. "You can stare on the way out. I'll even show you which ones were Max's."

"Did you memorize what all his trophies look like?"

"Hey, meetings with engineers get boring. It's one of the more interesting ways to occupy your time when they are going on and on about fluid mechanics and thermodynamics- you know, stuff you understand but not me."

"Oh whatever, you enjoy those meetings and you know it."

"Only a little," he quotes.

People recognize him as you pass and some nod or give a simple greeting as they go about their morning but no one stops him to chat. The air feels a bit hostile, like no one knows what to do with him now that he's walking through the building after a nearly two year absence.

"Do you miss it?" You ask after he smiles at someone for the millionth time. 

"I miss the team," he admits, "but not the management culture. My team was great- they supported me any way they could but it didn't help that Horner didn't exactly encourage them to believe in me. It's hard to crank out results when there's no one on your side."

"I'm on your side," you point out, nudging him with your hip. "You've got me forever, no takesies backsies."

"I'm grateful for it," he murmurs and gives your hand a squeeze. He hadn't let go once; not when he had to open a door or the two of you had to walk single file to let people pass.

The building was a labyrinth and if it wasn't for Pierre you'd have been lost the moment you set foot inside. He navigates the twisting halls with ease, having no need for the countless signs posted along the way.

He leads you up a set of steel stairs after what seems like ages. When he knocks on a heavy oak door, his grip on your hand turns possessive like he suspects the office’s occupant would try to rip you away from him. 

“Morning.”

God, even the one word makes rage simmer in your veins. The voice precedes the man and Christian Horner swings open the door, a plastic smile splitting his face. He doesn't bother acknowledging you with a greeting, instead addressing his driver directly.

“I wasn’t expecting you to bring a guest.”

“A pretty face was needed around here,” Pierre snaps back without missing a beat. You bristle, free hand curling into a fist. If there was one person you didn’t mind teaching a lesson to, it was Horner. He had little respect for anyone he viewed as disposable- up to and including “underperforming” drivers.

Christian raises an eyebrow. “Sure. She can wait out here- you and I have terms to discuss.”

Fine, Horner wanted to play dirty? So could you. When it came to staring him down, you became fearless. He was the one person you refused to let intimidate you.  

Drawing on your newly minted confidence you smile up at Pierre and silence the protest forming on his tongue with a grin. “Gimme a kiss, race winner.”

Pierre doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours. Cupping a hand to the back of his neck you draw him in and nip at his lower lip. The hand on your hip tightens at Christian's scoff but Pierre makes no move to break away. You linger a moment longer than necessary to drive your point home: you didn’t care what Horner had to say about you, you were here to stay and he would have to get used to it.

Pierre gives you a small, blissed out smile before dropping your hand and following Horner inside. The door clicks but doesn't shut all the way, Pierre leaving it cracked for your benefit.

Uninterested in eavesdropping on small talk, you lean on the metal railing to observe the research and development garage coming to life on the floor below. Hybrid engines in various stages of disassembly dot the space, small teams of mechanics and engineers tweaking components to reduce weight or increase horsepower. Pistons and valves are scrutinized and exchanged before being placed under stress to test their strength.

An FIA official in a red jacket wove through the garage to observe and jot notes down on a clipboard. He looks over the shoulder of an engineer pouring over formulas on a whiteboard, startling him when the official asks a question. Someone calls your name from below and you search for the origin, finally spotting the woman and waving back at her.

Management may have their qualms with Pierre but it was clear there were still some within the team that had his back. They were likely the same ones that knew he would have to leave the Red Bull umbrella to find any semblance of success. They may not have possessed the guts to stick their necks out for him when Horner had cut him but they were at least happy to see him back around headquarters.

"You sure you'll rise to the challenge?" Horner's question drags you back to the mezzanine. 

"I'll take seventh. I'm only a few points away and we have plenty of races left."

He had five races to catch up to be exact. Pierre currently was comfortably ahead of the pack in ninth, Sainz was only three points ahead in eighth, and Norris ten points beyond in seventh. It would only take a DNF or two from his rivals and a few podiums to pass them up.

"Right," Horner starts. "There's a reason you've done so well this season and it's not luck. You've been racing exceptionally well and I don't want that to change."

"If there's something on your mind just get on with it." Pierre's voice is calm and collected in a way yours wouldn't be if you had been in his shoes. You've been dying to rip into Horner since the day he wrote Pierre off.

"There's been a fire in you the past few months since she has been gone-"

"Leave her out of this."

The tone sends a chill down your spine. It maintains the same level headedness that Pierre had perfected over the years and you had come to expect when he was backed against a wall, but it was laced with an unspoken threat. The intent was clear: he would walk out and abandon his chance for a seat at Red Bull if it meant protecting you.

You creep to the door to peer through the crack. Horner crosses his arms, a sly smile on his face. "You would sacrifice your chance at a championship winning seat for her? Everything you've worked so hard for, gone in a flash, because of her?"

"Without question," Pierre answers immediately. The conviction and commitment behind it nearly makes you stumble. "I'm sure there's plenty of other teams that would love to have me after the season I've had. She’s not going anywhere, so either you stop disrespecting her or I walk out."

You clench your fists, ready to burst in and demand Pierre stop being a fucking idiot. His long term plan saw him at another top team that would take care of him and nurture his skill- a long stint at Red Bull Racing was never in the cards. It wasn't an environment for everyone. Some people like Max thrived in it, letting the toxicity roll off their backs but for Pierre it was a cruel form of punishment. However, a seat at Red Bull for the 2022 season could mean the difference between an offer from Alpine and an offer from Haas when his contract was up for renewal. 

The idea of seeing his number stickered to the floor in a Red Bull garage excites and intimidates you. Last time he hadn't been given the chance to prove himself. Would they still hold that against him? Knowing Christian, he probably would. On the other hand, it meant that they admitted their mistake in cutting him mid-season, whether they said it outright or not.

Pierre's redemption day was on the horizon and you couldn't wait to see the look on Horner's face when he finally won. And the longer Christian stays silent, the more potent the urge to throttle him grows. 

Christian gives a slow clap. "Now there's the unwavering commitment that was missing during round one."

Your heart hammers in the dead silence as papers are shuffled. "Here's the contract. Terms are as discussed, you secure seventh in the world championship in 2021 and the second seat at Red Bull Racing is yours for the entire calendar in 2022. No demotions, substitutions, or shuffling of drivers unless medically necessary or mutually agreed upon by all affected parties."

"And the same spec car as the number one seat," Pierre insists, spine straight. "Same strategy." 

Christian waves a hand. "Yes, that's in there too. Feel free to take a moment and read it over."

He does, allowing Christian time to pour a knuckle of whiskey and set the glass before Pierre. He pours himself an identical glass and waits until Pierre signs and initials all the boxes before raising it in acknowledgement.

"Congratulations. Welcome back to Red Bull- conditionally."

Pierre leaves the glass untouched and remains silent, staring his potential future team principal down. He gives the man no margin to question his abilities further, conveying all he needs to with a look that would have had you shaking at the knees. Even if you can't see his face, wrath radiates from him in waves and you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it when it explodes.

"Right then." Christian lowers the glass, his fake smile vanishing. "I look forward to seeing what you can do."

"Don't worry. I'll deliver."

You step back and allow him to set the mood as he exits the office and slams the door behind him. Pierre sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "You heard all of that right?"

You nod. "You wouldn't have really walked out, right?"

"I almost did."

He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like you should know that he would choose you over all of this, that all of his dreams and everything he had sacrificed to achieve them thus far meant less to him than you did. How many times did he have to prove his unwavering commitment before you realized it was true?

Pierre laces his fingers through yours, the heat welcomed by your ice cold skin. It was as much a comfort to you as it was to him. "I just have to grab some things from Max's office and then we can head out."

His jaw is still set after his stand off with Christian and you want nothing more than to ease his mind. Publicly comforting him with a touch to his chest or a kiss to his neck was out of the question so you settle on temporary distraction.

"Hey, you know what I want to see?"

"What's that?"

"That room full of all the old chassis. You know, the one that they hold all the fancy virtual events in? I wanna see those."

"I think I should be able to get you back there." He veers down a hall and you yelp, pulled along by his momentum. His attitude brightens a little at your laugh. The grin he throws your way is your own personal sun, warming your soul. 

"Hey- hold on." You pull him to a stop and lead him into an alcove. The inch of space between your chests is charged with electricity, begging to jump from one to the other.

"Can I help you?" He asks and grins down at you.

"No," you say nonchalantly. "Just wanted to be selfish for a second."

You rise up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He melts into you, one hand coming up to cup your jaw while the other finds the small of your back. You side your tongue over his lower lip and he presses you against the door leading to who knew where and opens his mouth to you. You sigh into the kiss, arms winding around his neck and losing yourself in him.

Now that you had gotten over your anxiety, everything was so much easier. You know there's press roaming about the building and any number of them could pass by at any moment but you genuinely couldn't care less. Let them talk; you were over caring what anyone thought or said.

All that mattered was the man beneath your fingertips. You would endure a lifetime of insults if he was the one to soothe the wounds afterwards. As long as you both were happy, no one could come between you ever again.

Pierre pulls away when someone passes by and coughs quietly.  "You're trouble," he murmurs, leaving an arm propped next to your head and effectively caging you in.

"And you're dangerous," you tease, tugging on his hair and exposing his throat enough to nip at it once. "Together we're the perfect pair."

He groans and leans away. "Keep that up and I might have to stay in London an extra week."

You slip out of his grasp and give him an unrestrained grin. "Don't threaten me with a good time." You spin on your heel and set off down the hall, swaying your hips a little more than necessary.

"You know where you're going?" He calls after you.

"Someone will point me in the right direction, I'm sure."

"Someone like me." He catches up to you and once again takes your hand in his. He was enjoying showing you off almost as much as you enjoyed hanging on him.

"Maybe we should head right to Max's office and hurry home, huh?"

"Maybe-"

"Pierre, there you are."

You both turn to a woman hustling up the hall after you. She’s slight and her brown curls bounce as she jogs to where the two of you pause at a bend. You glance up to Pierre to see if he's just as confused as you are.

"Hey Mary," he says cheerily. "How are you? Sorry I didn't check in with you when I got here."

"Oh it's fine- why aren't you in the Alpha samples I sent?” The woman props a fist on her hip and tips her head to the side. “I think I got your size right now that I’ve laid eyes on you. I was hoping for a shoot today since you've finally come by."

It takes you a moment to register that she's addressing you. You shoot Pierre a look and he offers you a tentative, closed off smile. "Um, what Alpha gear?"

The woman's chocolate brown eyes go wide. "The ones I've been sending to Pierre. Hoodies, dresses, jackets. All the stuff from the new line. They have been sending the samples to you, right?"

"Um, yeah I've gotten them," Pierre says, rubbing his neck. "I haven't given them to her though."

"Oh, I see!” Pink tinges Mary’s cheeks. “I must have missed a memo. I just thought that you'd want to do a shoot with her today, since we already had a quick one planned for you. After all, you talk about her all the time."

"He does?"

Mary nods. "Oh yes, we've all heard plenty about you. You're lucky to have someone so enamored with you. I just dropped off some more samples in Max's office as a little thank you for letting us steal him so often-"

"Okay, thank you Mary," Pierre says abruptly. "I'll get back to you on that."

Pierre steers you away and down the hall. "What was she talking about? Why would they want me to come by for a photo shoot?"

Pierre runs a hand through his hair and pauses outside Max's office. The Dutchman must have been away because Pierre pulls out his key and fits it in the lock. "I just- come on."

He waves you inside and you obey, letting him close the door and grant you some semblance of privacy before continuing. 

"I never formally told anyone that we broke up. Most people came to their own conclusions once they didn't see you around for a while. Some people didn't get the message. Obviously Mary was one of them. I would still talk about you, I couldn't help myself. There was one shoot where Yuki and I were together and he mentioned off hand that you'd be a good brand ambassador. I tried to explain that it wouldn't work but Mary wouldn't hear it and she just kept sending me more and more samples.”

You draw a breath and interrupt his rambling. “But where-”

"I had it all in a box in my office but I struggled to concentrate with a reminder of you hanging over my head. I sent it over here to Max and that's where it's sat ever since. I used the excuse that Max was in town more often than I was and no one read too far into it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You whisper. "I would've taken them. I'm sure you got an earful from Mary."

"Would you have?” Pierre pauses, your silence in the face of his frustration speaking volumes. “I waited four months to hear from you. Tell me that sending you thousands of dollars in unreleased merch wouldn't have made you even more hesitant to come back to me."

Not knowing what else to say, you let your gaze fall to the carpet. Sending you expensive things would have felt something like a bribe, like he was trying to influence you with fancy clothes.

Pierre shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past now. We can take it home today and you can wear it when I take you for dinner and Alpha will get the press they’re after. Everyone will be happy.”

He wasn’t happy. That much was plain to see. He hadn’t been able to stomach seeing something intended for you, even that minute of a reminder had been too much for him to bear. God, you had thoroughly wrecked him. You were lucky that there were still enough pieces of him left to heal. 

“I didn’t realize you were hurting so bad,” you say, voice barely above a whisper as you cross the cramped space to him, stepping over piles of strewn paperwork carefully so as to not disturb whatever random order they were placed in. You don’t dare reach out to touch him as his shoulders slump, any and all forward momentum he’d gathered suddenly sapped.

“It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever gone through.”

Unable to let him suffer alone with his thoughts, you wrap your arms around his middle and let your cheek rest between his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to alienate you. I was waiting for you, too.”

“You needed space and I gave it to you.” His hand rests on your arm with a gentleness you’ve come to expect when he lays himself bare like this. “There were so many times I almost gave in to the impulse and just messaged you but I made myself wait. I didn’t want to rush it and make things worse. You always need time to think things through- I knew you would come around eventually. It didn’t make it any easier though.���

You rub soothing circles on his side as you blink back the tears that spring to your eyes. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I’m sorry I took so long and I’m sorry I made you wait. It had to have been torture-”

He turns in your embrace and cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The pad of his thumb sweeps across your cheek, the metal of the ring on his middle finger biting into your flushed skin. “It’s alright. You had a lot to sort through and I had to respect that.”

“We lost so much time-”

“Hey,” he says softly, ducking his head to meet your eyes. “We’re together now. If there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that you can’t let missed opportunities control you or else you’ll never be happy.”

You nod, swiping your sleeve under your eyes. “What did they send?” you ask, nodding towards the box overflowing with tan and navy threads.

“Pull up a chair,” Pierre suggests, “there’s a lot.”

You roll over Max’s desk chair and tug on Pierre’s arm. Once he gets the picture and sits, you settle in his lap. He winds an arm around your middle, the close contact already soothing your frazzled nerves.

“That better?” he murmurs.

“Much better.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @ricciartodododo​

If you have asked to be tagged in the past and I missed you I apologize! Just comment below and I’ll get you added for future updates. Thanks for reading ❤

[speechlessxx]

In The Rain. (Chris Evans x Reader)

Summary: Can a classic case of miscommunication be solved before the rain puts out the flickering light of love? 

Warnings: trash. lmao. this is better than my radio silence, so... lol... fluffy, angsty (you know the drill)

Word Count: ~2k

The lights flickered for only a second when the bright streaks that painted the sky were followed by deafening claps of thunder that shook your house. The rain was heavy as it pounded against the windows and the harsh winds were no kinder, but they were nothing compared to storm brewing within you.

A deep sigh escaped you as the blanket around your shoulders slipped off and pooled around your waist. You had a warm coffee in one hand and a book in the other while you sat at your reading nook watching the dark sky. It was a collection of poetry with several multicolored Post-It flags sticking out from its pages. Each color represented a feeling a poem elicited, and you found yourself flipping to those with a dark blue flag – the color of sorrow, heartbreak, sadness. In all honesty, it was self-pity.

You weren’t sure why you lingered for so long. Nothing but history and memories were keeping you in his life. The amicable breakup left you detached yet still attached to him. And what made everything worse was that you were still in love with Chris.

The breakup shocked those closest to you. You and Chris were – well … – the most unsuspecting perfect match. You were two completely different souls that balanced one another out. You complemented one another – hell, you completed each other. You were two independent entities that pushed the other to become a better version of themselves. The energy shared between you was radiant and the love was consuming. It was pure and unfiltered. Passionate. You weren’t one to believe in true love – in soulmates, or even twin flames – but then you met Chris and everything changed.

But like all matches – like all flames – they burn out.

You blamed it on anxiety – on expectations. You never had a long-lasting relationship. Chris was the first man you ever felt a true connection to – and that scared you more than you let on.

He was nearing 40 – the ripe age to settle down, to have a family. Although you were certain you wanted that with Chris, you weren’t sure if you wanted that now. Your reluctance had you absentmindedly push him away. You began to untether yourself to him. Untangling the beautiful, strong bond you once had until it was nothing but a single thread.

Although it was you that started to pull away, it was Chris who vocalized his unhappiness. It was Chris who instigated. The night you broke up, he refused to listen to your worries and your reasons for your sudden aloofness. “Do you even love me?” He asked you, but he didn’t wait for a response. You already blamed yourself – and it hurt twice as much when he blamed you, too.

It shocked you when you found out he told friends and family the breakup was mutual… because it was Chris who severed it … The supposedly mutual breakup kept an open door of communication for your families. While your family never bothered Chris or his kin, Scott constantly reached out to you, as well as his mother. They’d often invite you to house parties, dinners, karaoke nights… When you’d decline – finding it was a bit of a territory breach – they’d always claim Chris wouldn’t make an appearance but he always did.

Although you were broken up, you were forced to remain friends. You were forced to look at him across a dining table as if you didn’t know his deepest secrets. You spoke casually as if you never spent late nights unburdening your souls to one another. You acted as if you were friends that were never completely in love with each other.

You remembered the phone call from Scott this morning. He relayed a message from their mom, asking you to come to dinner. When you declined, Scott demanded for a reasonable answer. He often found, “I’m your brother’s ex-girlfriend” a useless excuse.

“I still love him, and it hurts because we’re pretending like we were never together.” Your voice broke. “I’m trying to pull away – trying to move on – but I don’t know if it’s me holding onto hope, or if it’s just....” You couldn’t finish your words – you weren’t sure how to. You felt guilty for confessing this to Chris’s brother of all people. You knew it wouldn’t confidential – that he’d tell Chris – but you just had to say it out loud once.

You heard Scott sigh over the phone. Taking pity on you, he decided it was probably best that you kept your distance from Chris – which was the opposite of the goal of him constantly inviting you out. “A storm’s coming tonight,” he mentioned. “And I know how rain helps calm you.”

But it did anything but that.

-=+=-

Chris had some idea of where it went wrong. The night it all ended, he blamed you. He knew he was in the wrong for that.

The night of his outburst haunted his memories, keeping him up all hours of the night. The image of your tearstained cheeks, reddened eyes, and pure heartbroken expression was burned into his mind. He saw it every time he closed his eyes. He remembered how you barely got a word in because every time you opened your mouth to speak, to reason, to argue, he spoke over you with such a heated, rage-filled tone that he didn’t even recognize.

He was afraid to lose you and because of his own arrogance and stubbornness, that’s exactly what happened.

You were unraveling your bond slowly, tactfully while he tore it to shreds.

And he regretted it every single day.

“Is (Y/N) coming?” He asked as subtly as he could while he and Scott set the table. Scott simply shook his head. Chris placed a plate onto the placemat as thunder shook the house, the glasses rattling slightly. “Do you know what she’s doing tonight?” He asked, trying to stay casual though everyone saw right through it. Scott’s brows were furrowed as if contemplating and his mouth was pressed into a firm line. Knowing him for all his life, Chris knew when his brother was hiding something. “Scott.”

“I can’t tell you!” Scott finally answered. That answer pulled at Chris’s heart – were you with someone? Is that why you weren’t here? “She’s just… she just needs a night.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chris frowned. An upside to this “amicable” breakup was having his family constantly pull you back into their atmosphere. He wasn’t sure if they did it for him (they did), but he was thankful for all the nights you walked into their family home, gracing him with your presence even if you barely spoke. His brother remained silent and Chris called his name again.

“She’s just upset, okay?” Scott revealed. Chris’s frown deepened as he cocked his head to the side in confusion. “She just needs some time to think and heal.”

“What does that mean?”

Scott sighed. “I can’t tell you. She told me not to – Chris… do you plan on getting back together with (Y/N)?”

“Of course.” Chris answered with no hesitation. “I love her.”

“Then, why’d you break up with her?” Scott asked.

The question caught him off guard. Of course, he planned his apology. He planned his dramatic way to woo you back into his arms – to make you fall in love with him again. He didn’t quite know how to execute it – should he have been a cliché with a boombox, calling your name outside your window?

“I… I guess I felt like she was pulling away… and so, I felt like I had to beat her to the punch,” Chris cringed. It was a childish sentiment… But perhaps it was because his ego couldn’t take being broken up with? Or perhaps the thought of losing you clouded his judgement so much and consequently, his fears came true.

Scott scoffed at his brother, rolling his eyes for effect. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah and I feel bad about it, but every time I try to talk to her, she closes up.”

“I wonder why.” Chris groaned annoyedly at his younger brother, slapping the palm of his hand to his forehead. “She told me before that she felt as if she didn’t belong with you because you’re ready to start a family and she wasn’t.”

“When she say that?”

“A while ago…” Scott scratched his chin.

“But I don’t… I don’t need a family right this second. I just need her.”

“Does she know that?” Scott asked him. “Because all she knows is that you had enough of her.”

“I didn’t really give her a chance to talk…” Chris confessed. “I just… I kinda just ranted at her.”

Scott sighed disappointedly. “In all honestly, brother, I think you need to have an actual conversation with her… Not just a I’m-gonna-yell-at-you …”

Lightning flashed through the windows as the rain steadily poured. It didn’t look as if it were going to let up any time soon. Chris glanced at the clock. It was early into the evening – if it hadn’t been storming, then the sun would be painting the sky a beautiful orange sunset. Instead it was dark, gloomy – uncertain like your future.

Without much contemplation, Chris rushed out of the dining room, cutting through the kitchen. His mother gasped when he barged through the doors and walked to towards the front. “What are you doing?” She called after him. “Dinner’s almost ready!”

“I’m getting my girlfriend back,” Chris told her. His mother’s worried expression melted into one of pride as she cupped her chest with her hand and gave him an encouraging smile.

“Go get ‘er.”

“Love you, ma,” Chris called before walking out the door and braving through the storm.

-=+=-

The doorbell startled you from your nap. You hadn’t even realized you began to drift to sleep. With little regard about your appearance, you drudged towards the front door, wondering who could be at your house at this hour – especially with a storm like this.

“Chris?” You gasped, eyes widening as your ex-boyfriend was shivering from the rain. He was drenched, standing at your front porch. “Why are you here in the rain?”

“We need to talk.” You felt the blood leave your face. The last time he said those words to you, he left you crying and heartbroken. Thunder rumbled as you stared at him. “Scott told me.”

“Of course he did,” you rolled your eyes with frustration. “Chris, I don’t want to talk –“ You tried to close the door, but he easily overpowered you, keeping it open.

“No, we need to talk about this,” Chris snapped before sighing. “(Y/N),” you always loved the way he said your name. “I don’t want a family right now… I just want you�� I just need you.”

You stared at him. Chris was never one to lie. He was terrible at it. His eyes always gave him away. Much like they did tonight when they revealed he was being truthful.

“I’m sorry,” he told you. “I’m sorry I’m an asshole that night. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you – that I didn’t even try to listen.” He paused, waiting for you to butt in, but you never did. You just stared at him in silence as you processed. “You’re the only one I want to be with… and I understand if that’s not what you want… You can close the door and we’ll pretend this never happened. We can go back to whatever we were… But I’m not going to ignore this.” When you remained silent, he said, “please, please say something.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful,” you finally said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me doubting myself – that I started to push you away because I was afraid of what a serious relationship with you meant…”

He took a step towards you, hands reaching for you. One hand found its home at your waist, the other cupping your cheek. “It’s not your fault…” He said. “I love you and I always will. Please, take me back.”

“I love you, Chris,” you muttered before your hands wrapped around his neck to pull him towards your lips.

[daydream-believin]

A Nice Rock For You, My Love (Please Accept)

Summary: Douxie would like to give the reader a special present.

Warnings: Swearing, stabbing, blood, swords and a knife.

Word Count: 3092 -ten pages 12 point times new roman, baby!

A/N: even i couldn’t predict where the hell this was headed. have fun with this. i sure did ;)

Douxie placed his newest rock onto the window ceil in his bedroom. He’d display it for a while, but add it to the collection jar with the others once it was replaced. Every morning he’s wake up, see the shiny stone on his window ceil, and think of his wonderful significant other.

Y/n was an odd duck, but an endearing one at that. They spent most of their time out in the local forest. Douxie wasn’t sure what they did out there for so long each day, but that didn’t matter as long as they’d come back to see him in the evenings. They’d return to civilization every night scruffy, smelly, and with twigs stuck in their hair, but he thought they looked lovely. Enchanting even. A little dirt never did hurt anyone.

He was going to have to get a new jar soon. Every week or so, Y/n would present him with a new one. A token of their affection for the wizard. He kept every single one. He kept one in the pocket of his favourite jacket. Y/n had found that particular one in the flat of a creek bed. They were drawn in by the bright blue color, reminding them of their beloved wizard’s most recent dye job. After fishing it out, it turned out to be a piece of beach glass, but it was very smooth and rounded. Douxie was using it as a worry stone.

Of course, rocks weren’t the only thing Y/n had brought him. Any small thing not tied down the forest could offer was up for grabs to the local cryptid. Sometimes they’d leave him feathers from a bird they swore they got permission from to take. Sometimes they’d give him sticks they carved intricate designs into. Sometimes bones. A lot of times bones. Not enough bones for visitors in his home to question though. They just assumed he was really goth. One time, Y/n even straight up gifted him a jar of mud. Well, it supposed to be soil from the picnicking spot they often spent their dates, some water from the nearby stream, with a few hand-plucked flower heads added to the top. Romantic, right? Unfortunately, it was accidentally shaken up between the time Y/N made it and the time they presented it to Doux. Still, it was proudly displayed on his shelf.

As tokens of affection began to collect, Doux decided he should return the favor. He’d find the perfect gift for his dear Y/n. One to show them just how much he cared, just how far his affection for them reached. Something to make that toothy smile light up their pretty face. Something to seal a promise to them, that he’d be by their side until the end of time.

So here he was, in this jewelry store, trying to find that perfect shiny rock for his significant other. It wasn’t going too well, to be honest. Everything was too fancy, and quite frankly, too expensive. It was like the whole store was polished and perfect. All those rings were beautiful, yes, but they looked like they belonged on the finger of a middle-class suburban spouse, not his wonderfully scruffy partner. His darling sasquatch. Too impersonal for his taste.

He’d decided that the only way to match Y/n’s energy was to find the stone himself. Luckily, he did live in Arcadia. Right below his feet were a system of caves that spanned at least a hundred miles. Surely the local trolls wouldn’t mind. Okay, so they did, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

After some exploring some of the tunnels for a while and getting a wee bit lost in the maze, he eventually came across a patch of purpley clusters growing from the cave wall. Amethysts, he guessed? Maybe fluorite. Either way, it was marvelous. The color was even close to that of Y/n’s magic. They put off a nice good energy too. This would be perfect. He just needed to find a small enough piece, or chip off a bit, and his quest would be complete. He magicked himself up a knife and set to work. It took him several tries, but eventually he wound up with a nice rock. It wasn’t perfect, even kind of lopsided for a ring, but it was a really good purple rock. Raw too. Uncut and unpolished, like them.

He brought it over to his work buddy Annie’s place. She had been really into jewelry making this year. Douxie had seen some of her work. It was top notch. She’d make him a nice personalized ring and set the stone into it. And he’d have the peace of mind knowing that this gift would be an excellent piece of craftsmanship. Hopefully Y/n wouldn’t lose it in the river. Thankfully, he had measured their ring size during their nap yesterday. So it would be nice and snug. Not drop-in-the-riverable at all… He’d enchant it.

Now all there was to do was wait. He had to give it to them at just the right moment for maximum romantic impact here. He’d watched a thousand proposal videos on youtube to get some semblance of an idea of what he was supposed to be doing. To be honest, a lot of them seemed kind of over the top and forced. While Doux was a showman, he didn’t want to go that route. This moment was going to be special. Intimate. Full of love.

He’d set up a lovely date for the occasion. A moonlight picnic in their favourite spot. Romantic, with candles. And roses. And champagne. He’d bring his acoustic too, to play for them. A classic serenade for his love. He also dressed up the trees around with some twinkly magical lights. He was thinking of making them a little show with magic lights too, to narrate their love story. After it was all over, they’d head over to the clearing to go star gazing. And they’d fall asleep under the stars in each other’s arms as a betrothed couple. Okay, so maybe he was going over the top after all. Just a tad. He couldn’t help it.

Once he got it all set up, he asked Archie to watch over it while he went to go get his darling. He even acquired a blindfold so he could get that maximum surprise effect. But he didn’t take into account the fact that nature isn’t exactly flat, and he had to help them carefully navigate the forest floor. At a certain point, he just decided to just pick Y/n up bridal style and carry them, eliciting a giggle from them. It was faster and easier for both parties. Also more romantic. A win-win. Y/n noticed his heart was beating pretty fast as they leaned against his chest. He was getting antsy as the spot came into view.

He was pleased and relieved to see that nothing had gone amiss so far. Everything was intact. Archie was just lazily snoozing on the blanket. Douxie cleared his throat to catch Arch’s attention and silently shooed him away with a head jerk. The dragon-cat nodded and took off towards town. Douxie placed Y/n down onto the blanket, oh so gently, taking their blindfold off to reveal everything. Y/n was, to Douxie’s dismay, immediately aware that something was up. This was quite the set up before them. They reacted nervously, which disheartened him slightly, but he couldn’t back out now. He wouldn’t back out now. He won’t.

He handed Y/n the bouquet of roses, and they flushed. That wonderful pink color of their cheeks somehow gave him enough courage to help him make it through his entire prepared speech without stuttering. What a feat. Despite their earlier wariness, Y/n was captivated. They hung off his every word. Douxie came to the conclusion that he must be using every drop of luck he had right now. Now for the best part, or the part that could embarrass him the most, depending on whether or not his luck continued. Time to woo his beloved with a special song he wrote just for them. Time to bear his soul. His fingers danced over the strings with practiced skill. The most beautiful melody Y/n had ever heard. They had stars in their eyes. He was halfway through his serenade when the heavens opened up.

Douxie almost instantly cast a magic shield over them. It was beautiful, in a way. The raindrops bucketing down, hitting the transparent glowing shield. It made a private percussion symphony just for them. Rain. Douxie saving the day. It was so cliché, they laughed together. Those freckles on his face danced adorably as he shook with laughter. So, in the spirit of clichés, Y/n decided to repay him for all his chivalry with a kiss. It caught him off guard at first, eyes wide, but he quickly melted into it.

As the kiss deepened, he pulled his fingers through their hair. They let out a moan into his mouth. He couldn’t help the lovesick grin that spread across his face. He turned his attention towards their neck. They tipped their head to give him better access, letting their hands travel down his back. He smelled smokey, he must have had some spell backfire on him today. How endearing. As Doux kissed right under their jaw, they opened their eyes just a half-lid. And then promptly snapped them open all the way. They briskly pulled back, eliciting a whine from Douxie.

“Uhhh, Doux,” He turned around to see what had frightened them.

“Oh fuzzbuckets,” he blinked at the sight, “is that a wolf?” Douxie exclaimed in disbelief.

“No, no, not a wolf. It can’t be a wolf. There’s exactly one singular wolf pack in Cali and its definitely not in fucking Arcadia Oaks.”

The wolf stepped forward. It was smaller than a normal wolf. A wolf-dog maybe. It snarled at them, spit dripping from its sharp teeth. They dared not move, and risk provoking it. Still as statues, Y/n and Douxie watched as it howled a warning to them. Or at least they thought it was a warning.

Suddenly, a very tall figure appeared through the trees. Black cloak billowing in the dark storm, it was if cooked up from some horror novel. Well, a children’s horror novel. It probably could have been much, much scarier. Especially to a couple of wizards that also frequently wore black and walked through the dark with their own less-than-domestic pets. But nevertheless, the sight raised the hackles on the backs of their necks. The wolf-dog ran to its master’s side. The figure patted his familiar’s scruffy head, then strode towards the picnic.

Douxie and Y/n swiftly sprang to their feet. Doux stepped in front of Y/n, to their annoyance. They could hold their own and Douxie knew it, but he couldn’t help those protective instincts. As the figure came closer, he dramatically tossed back his hood. Lightning struck at the very moment his bearded face was revealed to them. Completely by coincidence, honest.

“Eoin?” Douxie exclaimed in surprise. That expression of surprise then twisted into one of disgust. “Oh bleeding balroths, it’s fucking Eoin.” He half-shouted, half-grumbled.

“Aye, Hisirdoux! My old pal! How’ve you been, bruv?” Eoin flourished his cloak and smirked at the two. He eyed up Y/n. “And what a lovely partner you’ve got here, might I add.” Y/n shifted to be a bit more behind Doux.

“What do you want, my friend?” Douxie frustratedly asked. Y/n was getting the impression that, despite the terms of endearment here, these two were not friends.

“Why, don’t you already know, little Douxie? I’m here to settle something I should have long ago.” He said in a now less-than-friendly tone of voice.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Douxie was exasperated. Eoin just started coming closer. “Alright, mate,” Douxie raised his hands, flicking through his cuff, getting ready for what he knew was about to transpire without any more delay. His adversary shot up his hands to stop him.

“Oh! No, no, no! Friend, we’ll settle this like men. The old-fashioned way.”

Eoin summoned two rapiers out of thin air. Both some sort of gleaming black metal and glowing jewels. He kept the one with the red gems in his right hand, and tossed Douxie the one with the blue gems with his left. Color coordination, one supposes. Douxie tested the blade with a few swings and parries. His eyes looked down at the rapier and then to Eoin. They sort of bowed to each other.

They fenced back and forth deftly. It was like a dance. A tango. Y/n was impressed at how light footed Douxie actually was. Maybe he planned this? Was this a part of the show or something? It would be an excellent way to prove how capable he was of defending them from evil or whatever. But they got the feeling that this was undeniably real and not planned by, if not for the rancid aura hanging in the air, the absolutely murderous looks in the two men’s eyes.

The wolf-dog came towards Y/n. They readied a spell for defense, but the dog just, sort of sat next to them? It looked like it was also watching the fight intently. It would woof at the two whenever its master got the upper hand, almost as if cheering him on. Strange. A good boy, Y/n supposed. They’d reach down to pet it but they didn’t fancy losing their hand.

Eventually, Douxie came out on top. The duel had been nasty, but it now looked as if it was all but through. Douxie had Eoin knocked onto his back in the mud at the base of one of the massive old oak trees Arcadia was known for. He held his blade to Eoin’s throat, and they locked eyes. Douxie was huffing for air. But to Eoin’s surprise, He started apologizing. An entire speech. Confusion flashed on Eoin’s face. Hisirdoux had always felt guilty about his transgressions as a lad, about the people he trampled in order to survive before Merlin gave him a home. So he’d spare his old enemy. He was terribly sorry he’d begun this feud in the first place.

“And what say you, old buddy,” Douxie grinned hopefully with a glimmer in his hazel eyes. Douxie held out his hand in an offer of actual friendship. He stared into Eoin’s eyes. Eoin stared into his. Eoin’s shaky hand began to reach up to take Douxie’s. They clasped their hands together. Brothers. And for a moment, Douxie had really thought they had made up this time, looking into Eoin’s feeble smile. That is, until Eoin yanked Douxie down towards himself on the ground. Right into his ready, hungry blade.

To the soundtrack of Y/n’s screams, Eoin stood up, casually tossing Douxie’s limp body off his sword. The wind whipped his cloak as he stormed off, into the storm. The wolf-dog followed his master, howling in victory. Y/n was crossing the woods to cling to Doux in an instant.

He coughed up some blood, and intensely stared into Y/n’s eyes. He weakly took their hand, and caressed their cheek. Then remembered to reach into his pocket and pull out that special ring. He slipped it onto their slick, wet finger. Oh, it appeared that their hands were covered in blood. His blood. Neat.

“I- I wanted to a-” he coughed up some more blood, “to ask you if-”

“Yes! Yes, of course,” they sounded panicked, “please, save your breath, my love.” They pleaded. He feebly leaned in to kiss them, but then his world went black. His body fell like a ragdoll into Y/n’s arms.

Try as they might, they weren’t a healer. Purple light shone like a beacon in the black stormy night. They performed as many healing, even vaguely healing-ish fixit spells as they knew. Unfortunately, this was a stab wound from a magic blade. They couldn’t take him to the hospital, even if they had any trust in modern medicine. Hot tears streamed down their face. But the word hopeless is not devoid of hope. Hope sparked in their heart as they remembered something, somewhere, important.

They had to get him out of here, and fast. He was bleeding out. There was so, so much blood. It had positively soaked through Y/n’s already wet clothes before they were even half way to their destination. The smell of the rain mixing with all the blood was sickening. It was hard to find their way in this darkness. They slipped on the mud and tripped over rocks. Y/n was starting to slip into a panic attack. They couldn’t even go very fast, he was so heavy in their arms. And Y/n was frightened of hurting him even more by accident. Y/n was very, very frightened in general.

Time moved like molasses. In what could have been years for Y/n, the cave they were carrying Douxie to finally came within sight. Their heart was threatening to pound right out of their chest. They mustered up the last of their strength and broke out into a sprint. Bolting through the curtain doors of the cave and knocking around the strings of bones that hung with them, Y/n dropped to their knees.

“Please! Save him! I beg of thee.” They pleaded to the three old women sitting around the hearth.

***

Douxie was awoke to the sound of shuffling and unintelligible whispers. He could smell a strong mix of herbs in the air. He felt the soft back of a cold hand rest on his forehead, so he slowly opened his eyes. He was met with the red tear-streaked face of his beloved. Y/n gasped. they excitedly called to whoever else was in the room with them that he was now awake. He did not recognize these women. He did not recognize where he was. He supposed that didn’t matter.

Y/n pulled him into a gentle hug, as if he were made of glass. A handsome glass sculpture that would shatter if they let go of him. They just lied there, holding onto each other for dear life, for what must have been an hour. Breathing in each other’s scents, they had still refused to let go, but Douxie started to cough again. They reluctantly pulled apart, and y/n started their interrogation about any pain he might be experiencing. He was alright, a little sore, but fine. Nothing time won’t fix. And time he was glad to still have with them.

***

bonus A/N: i swear this was supposed to be normal, just a sappy proposal fic. but once i set everything up i was overcome with the urge to stab him. so i created a character specifically to stab him. idk im not sorry. at first i had eoin like, cheat the duel with magic, but i figured doux would be his own downfall with that bleeding heart of his we all love so much. happy november y’all.

[freedom-shamrock]

Speaking on My Behalf

Also over on AO3

@saijspellhart allowed me to take this delightful idea and run with it, so here we are.  Go team!

Chapter One

"All right," Marinette said, handing Adrien the steaming mug. "One Cheng family, top secret laryngitis treatment. Careful, it's hot." She could smell the fresh lemon juice as it wafted in her face.

Adrien snorted ruefully, grasping the mug carefully before slumping back into the couch.

"He says, thank you," Plagg offered helpfully from his place sprawled in his holder's ultra messy bed head.

Adrien smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm just sorry I can't do more to help you," Marinette said, feeling bad. This was his first real illness since they'd decided it made more sense for Chat Noir and Ladybug to share an apartment. It would limit the risk of anyone else figuring out their identities the way they had.  The miraculous were excellent for preventing colds and illness, but apparently they didn't really impact allergies. The warm spring had been brutal on her partner and close friend. Tikki would point out that he was also Marinette's first and only love (or strongly imply it in her look and point it out once they were alone together), but she was asleep in her nest in Marinette's room.

Adrien shook his head and waved one hand as if to push her worry away.

"There's only so much even you can do, Buggy," Plagg offered. "He gets that."

Adrien vigorously nodded his agreement with his kwami.

"And to be fully honest," the black cat of destruction continued, "he wouldn't have gotten half this kind of treatment back at the mansion." His face squished up in a way that Marinette had come to learn was disgust. "His schedule would've been cleared, partly anyway, and he'd be abandoned in that compensation-chamber-of-shitty-parenting that his father called a bedroom."

Adrien frowned, looking petulant while he made indignant shushing noises at his kwami.

Marinette moved closer, scooping up the book and laptop from the ottoman near the couch, so she could take a seat there. She'd always felt Gabriel's cold nature ran into neglectful, if not full-on abusive, territory, but Adrien was quick to change the subject when things got too close to discussing his family life. "Nathalie doesn't have much of a bedside manner, huh?"

Adrien rolled his eyes. It was amazing just what he could express without his voice, and it was no wonder he was loving the acting classes he'd snuck into his schedule.

"Well you don't live there anymore, and we Dupain-Cheng folk do not believe in allowing those who are ill or uncomfortable suffer alone." She reached out to run her fingertips over his cheek, pleased when he closed his eyes and hummed happily. "I'll be checking on you regularly, and I won't be any farther away than the other room, so just send Plagg if you need anything, okay?"

His gorgeous green eyes fluttered open and he gazed softly at her.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg agreed, his voice a jarring break in the gentle moment. "I'll come get you if he needs anything."

She'd brought work home from the La Fleur Fashions, the design house she'd joined before she even finished school. It was a small and highly exclusive house focused on women's evening wear, and while that was a bit limiting for her tastes, it paid well, and she enjoyed what she was doing. She'd made sure her contract allowed her to create her own  designs so long as they weren't competing for the same market, for her online boutique. Lucky Bug provided mostly one-of-a kind or commission pieces, including daywear and menswear. "Are you sure you don't want me to bring my work in here?" she asked for what had to be the fifth time.

Adrien's forehead scrunched up as he let out a huff.

"He would like to remind you that he's spent most of his twenty-three years coping on his own when he's ill," Plagg offered.

Adrien's eyes shot up as if he could see his kwami through his skull.

"He'll just feel guilty if you come out here," Plagg added. "No one has the whole guilt thing down like my kitten."

"Don't I know it," Marinette muttered, letting out a sigh and ignoring Adrien's indignant expression. "I promise, I'm happy to be here if it gives you any comfort, but I'm also not going to push. I definitely don't want you to feel more guilty about things that are basic human needs." That had been the first thing they'd had a serious talk about after moving in together.  He was constantly apologizing and trying to avoid being a nuisance.  "You are my best friend in the whole world," she insisted, brushing her thumb down his cheek.

"Ooooh," Plagg purred. "Better than Alya?"

"No contest," she replied, delighted by his response.

He closed his eyes and melted against her hand.

"I am always here for you," she promised. More than anything else in the world, he needed people who cared for him unconditionally, people who wouldn't turn their backs on him and leave him to languish in loneliness.

⁂

Adrien snapped his laptop closed. He was bored out of his mind and while he should have been happy to binge on Netflix, he was stupidly restless. The bright spots in his day had all involved Marinette, dear sweet Marinette, doting on him. He'd woken with a terrible sore throat from his allergies. He'd been able to easily identify it by the distinct characteristic that it felt like he'd tried to swallow a cactus (which he'd actually done once as Chat Noir, and would not recommend). His room mate, super partner, and all around best friend had been more kind to him in the first ten minutes than his father and Nathalie had been, combined, for all his sick days ever. His throat already felt better, but his voice would be gone for at least the rest of the day, but probably longer.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and gently poked at Plagg, hoping to go for a run.

"No," Plagg grumbled. "We are not going out as Chat Noir today unless there's an akuma." His words were accompanied by tiny feet stomping on Adrien's head. "The Guardian wants you to rest."

Adrien's groan came out as more of a whine thanks to his irritated vocal cords.

"I get that you're fidgety, Kid," Plagg sounded a touch more compassionate. "But she's the boss, and she's right."

Adrien pouted. It was incredibly unfair that his kwami was so affectionate toward Marinette, yielding to her requests with no need of bribery. His frustration was disrupted by a delighted squeal from Marinette's room.

"Woo hoo!" She sounded giddy, and like she was trying to keep her enthusiasm toned down.

Adrien grinned. She was probably doing that full body wiggle that she did when she was super happy and excited. He opened his mouth to call to her, then remembered he couldn't.

"What are you celebrating in there, Pigtails?" Plagg called. He had almost as many nicknames for Marinette as Adrien did.

"This new dress is so awesome," Marinette replied. "I love it when I nail it on one of these. Monique is gonna love this one."

Adrien snorted. Monique loved pretty much all of Marinette's designs. It hadn't escaped his notice that the head designer and founder of La Fleur was asking more and more of her junior employee. She was clearly coming to Marinette when the stakes were highest, though being the humble person she was, Marinette hadn't noticed this herself.

Adrien waved his hand above his head, frantically trying to get Plagg's attention. He wanted to see that dress. He loved it when Marinette gave him his own private fashion shows. They were his own guilty pleasure, and admittedly featured strongly in his daydreams.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg muttered. "Hold your horses, Kid." He raised his voice to reach Marinette. "We get to see it, right?"

Marinette's head popped out from the tiny hall toward her bedroom. "You really want to see it?"

She looked so happy, and Adrien felt blessed having her bright eyes so intensely focused on him. He vigorously nodded, cupping his hands together in silent plea.

"It would be rude to leave us hanging," Plagg added.

She disappeared with a giggle. "Okay.  Just a minute."

Adrien settled back into the couch, grinning like an idiot and vigorously rubbing his forearms to shed some of his excess energy. A new evening dress. He wondered if it would be cute or elegant, or something else entirely. Since they'd been living together he'd seen her create the gamut of evening dresses, from sweet things for teen starlets, to flirty numbers, to luxurious and sophisticated pieces sought by A-listers. And what color might it be? She'd done everything, though she preferred not to go with black unless it had accents because she felt there tended to be too much weight on basic black. The people wearing her works of art were guaranteed to stand out.

He tried not to pay attention to the sounds of zippers and the swishing of fabric. He was a model for goodness' sake. He could handle having a gorgeous woman change nearby without blowing a gasket.

"These shoes aren't quite right," Marinette cautioned, breaking him out of his little spiral.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg replied. "It's all about the dress. We got it, Princess."

Adrien couldn't hold back the hiss when his kwami dared use his personal nickname for her.

Plagg merely snickered as he floated off Adrien's hair to land on the back of the couch.

Adrien scowled and batted Plagg off his perch. His death glare seemed to have no effect on the cackling little beast. He felt himself gathering for a pounce when the sound of heels on the wood floor announced Marinette's impending arrival. Freezing, he curled his lip one last time in warning before slowly and intentionally easing himself back into his reclined position.

Marinette sauntered into the room, treating it as her own personal runway. Sashay, sashay. Pause and pose. Quarter turn, pose. He could practically hear the drill he'd walked her through when he'd taught her runway basics. She may not have had real training, because his tutoring had hardly been anything, but she totally killed it, and Adrien was pretty sure his soul left his body the moment he got a good look at her.

The dress was a stunning sleeveless number in a magenta to midnight blue ombre with an overlay of tulle to give the fabric depth and movement without too much weight. The neckline dropped into a gorgeous V ending at her sternum. The skirting had a slit at the front that crept high enough to flash pretty much all over her amazingly toned leg.

She moved to her final pose, directly in front of him, a sultry little smirk on her lips. It was a good thing he was already sitting down, because the wink she threw him would have definitely killed him. She was so amazingly beautiful and talented. Even if his voice had been working, he would have had no words for her now.

After a moment, she relaxed her pose, giggling as she looked down at the dress. "I have to say, this is one of my best."

Adrien nodded vigorously in agreement..

She let out a happy sigh. "What do you think?"

Adrien opened his mouth for a moment, but found himself shutting it again with a little head shake. He still didn't have words, even ones he could silently mouth to her.

"NettieBug," Plagg said smoothly, darting up to float in front of her. "I can answer honestly for the Kid here when I tell you that you're hot as fuck."

⁂

I suspect this will need one more chapter to be truly satisfying.

Apologies for being so absent. I'm still herding kids and managing the household while we are all safe at home for a few more weeks (I can not wait for school to end!). I'm trying to fit in writing where I can, but often don't have the energy.

⁂

Check out Chapter Two >>>

[wisherbysharlight]

Can’t Deny It, Who You Are Is What You’re Feeling

Word Count: 5685

Pairings: Demus, LAMP(and all variations thereof)

Janus is trying to settle into his new role as the makeup artist for a small off-off Broadway production, but he can't seem to figure out the relationships going on in the troupe, let alone what he has going on with the eccentric set designer...

AO3 Link

Janus squinted at the side of the stage. He should definitely be trying to make himself useful, it being only his second day, but he had just finished an eye test on Valerie and he was fairly certain he could pass off his staring as making sure it looked right where she stood in the spotlights. Hell, that’s what he’d been doing originally, before getting side tracked by the male lead sliding off the stage to the crafts table, where he’d sidled up to Patton, the costume designer Janus had met yesterday. Patton had beamed like Christmas had come early and promptly started breaking off pieces of his muffin to feed over his shoulder to the man who was now firmly attached to his back with his arms around his waist, visibly giggling the entire time. They looked carefree and besotted with each other in a way that made an ugly curl of envy build up in his stomach, but he couldn’t look away once he’d started. At least, until the props master interrupted him, that is.

“They’re tooth-rottingly sweet, huh?” Janus would deny the sound he made til his dying day, but he was fairly certain it could only be described as a yelp. The prop master cackled, holding their hand out to shake, which Janus took, grateful for the distraction. “Hey, it’s Janus right? I’m Talyn. Could you come back this way and give me a hand with moving some of these bigger pieces over to the wings for the next scene?”

“Oh sure Talyn, I don’t have anything until my next stage test in an hour or so,” he assured, carefully pasting a smile on his face that he hoped looked genuine.

Talyn threw a thumbs-up over their shoulder as they went towards the workshop and Janus took the opportunity to look back over at the crafts table where Valerie had now joined the two during a break and was laughing brightly as the actor playfully picked Patton up, throwing him over his shoulder to head over to the drinks table, and Janus could hear the shrieks even from his distance, “Rooooman, oh my goodness, you put me down right now, you big show-off!” Huh, so Mr. Leading-Man was named Roman. Good to know.

“You’re just so easy to toss around, Patton-cake. Maybe stop being so cute and I won’t be so tempted,” Roman shot back, opening a can of apple juice with an overexaggerated casualness.

“I’ll get you back for this, you heathen,” Patton cried, changing tactics to poking and tickling at Roman’s sides.

The laughter could still be heard even in the back wings of the auditorium where the workshop was, and Talyn had to raise their voice to be heard as they worked to finagle a fake-flower covered arch through the doorway, “Thanks for the help. The set designer, Remus, is out shopping for supplies today and he’s usually the one who actually moves this kind of stuff, but the director needs this for some sort of choreography today.”

“No problem at all,” Janus assured again, eager to prove his usefulness. “Happy to help when I can.”

By the time they finished getting the bulky prop to the proper side of the stage, the break was over, Roman was back onstage with Valerie, Patton had gone back to the far wings of the stage to continue working, and Janus had a new actor to meet and a fake scar to attempt to do in a transition that lasted less than 10 minutes.

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Less than a week later and Janus once again found himself squinting to the side of the stage, but this time it was up higher in the sound and light booth. Actors were scattered throughout the theater, running lines with each other, and the Technical Director seemed to be taking the opportunity to work with the Lighting Technician on setting up a few cues. Nothing out of the ordinary, most of the productions Janus had worked on in school worked the same way, no, the interesting part was just how close the Technical Director was to the Lighting Technician in the booth as they worked. They seemed to be able to communicate without speaking at all, effortlessly moving around each other and flicking different settings and somehow coming out with the correct configuration without ever saying a word.

The ease around each other was palpable, and that was what caught Janus off guard. He’d worked with the TD, Logan, once, and that interaction had been succinct, professional, and brokered no nonsense. Now, though, Logan’s shoulders seemed to loosen up the more time he spent up in the lighting box, and every once in a while, when the technician was triple or quadruple checking a light, Janus could see the TD huff and roll his eyes teasingly, then dodge an equally teasing swat to his side or shoulder. And he’d smile , a real smile, not a smirk or a placating pleasantry, and Janus felt that nasty longing that was tinged green with jealousy snake up into his throat again.

He forced himself to look away, finally, just to see Roman sitting in the makeup chair looking thoroughly amused and he was suddenly glad he’d chosen to wear a full face of makeup today, not just covering his left side like usual, because now he could at least hope that his thick foundation would cover up the way his face flamed up at getting caught staring at a couple again . “Hello Roman, did you need something?” he asked, going to his workstation to avoid having to look at the actor’s smirking face anymore.

“Hmm? Oh. Yes, yes, yes, I did, I was wondering if I would be able to offer up my time for you to practice the second act’s possession effects, as I know you were saying it would be difficult to practice on a dummy, and I am much further ahead in my memorization than the others,” Roman rattled off, and when Janus turned back to him, he quickly averted his eyes from the lighting box. Hm, so apparently he wasn’t the only one looking, that was interesting…

“That would be great actually, thank you. Getting that pallid coloring done three times in one intermission is going to be tough unless I do it a few times ahead of the show, I appreciate it.” He brought his rolling cart over to the makeup chair and crouched in front of Roman, watching carefully without giving away that he was focused on anything other than the makeup. After the third time Roman’s eyes strayed towards the light box he decided to speak up, “What’s the lighting technician’s name? Haven’t met him yet.”

“Oh you mean Tall, Dark, and Moody? That’s Virgil, him and Logan grew up together so they’re pretty used to each other by now, it’s really great to watch them work,” Roman enthused, and that made more sense, Roman was just appreciating the well oiled machine. “We all send Logan up there when it looks like he’s ready to murder the next person to say ‘slightly behind schedule’. Or when Virge gets new cues and gets so overwhelmed he starts gnawing on that giant hoodie he’s always got on. They really good at chilling each other out.”

Janus absorbed all of this as he brushed a small test bit of gray over Roman’s cheek bones, mulling it over and ultimately content to just let Roman talk. By the time he was done with the ghostly sheen, he had learned that Logan, Virgil, Patton, and Roman all went to college together and all joined the budding troupe together straight afterwards, even though they all had offers for separate larger companies scattered across the country. It was clear that Roman would talk about his little group forever if he were allowed to, had spent almost 10 minutes alone enthusing about some cosplay work Patton did in college with this adorably smitten twinkle to his eye, but Janus had to let him up from the chair eventually. When he stepped back to admire his work, though, Roman didn’t make any moves to get up. “Spent all this time talking about us, how about you? What brings you to our humble little company instead of some larger agency?”

Janus startled a bit, not used to getting asked anything about himself. “I suppose I was intrigued by the premise of the play, and wanted to do more hands-on work than most agencies allow new graduates.” It wasn’t quite a lie, and Roman didn’t need to know that this particular theater had been Janus’s saving grace growing up, how he owed the owner, Thomas, everything, how…

“My brother is the exact same way. Not happy unless he has full, creative control over his sets,” Roman laughed, and Janus tilted his head curiously. “I mean it’s better that he has an outlet for his thoughts. You don’t wanna know what he gets like when you try to stifle him, woo boy. Much better he swing a hammer at the scenery than at my head.”

“It was a wiffle ball bat, I only hit you once, and you didn’t even have a concussion. And beside that, you practically dared me to.”

Janus spun so quickly his beanie tilted slightly, and he fidgeted with his gloves to hide the fact that his heart was racing, but his face remained carefully even, “Remus. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” The man had a way of blending into the shadows until you least wanted him to jump out at you. Janus had been too startled to even react the first time, but Remus had taken it as though he wasn’t scared at all and was now determined to make him scream. Luckily, Janus had great experience controlling his expressions, the few times he’d been caught daydreaming observing relationships around the theater notwithstanding.”Were you looking for Roman or are you just here to bother me?”

Remus swooned dramatically, “Bother! You wound me! Nono, Joan sent me, they want Roman on stage to help Virgey-poo calibrate the acoustics after I, er, nudged one of the speakers over. Accidentally, of course.”

Roman rolled his eyes and scoffed, “You pissing Virgil off has never once been an accident. But I’ll head over there before Tickle-Me-Emo has a heart attack.” He turned to Janus, patting him on the back, “Good luck with him, don’t let him near anything sharp or he’ll try to cut his own bangs in the name of creating a new hairstyle.”

“I can handle him just fine,” Janus drawled, and pointedly ignored the suggestive look Remus gave him in return. Instead, he focused again up on the lighting box where Virgil seemed to be ranting, hands flying in front of his face, as Logan patiently listened. Roman finally got up on the stage and Virgil started messing with the sound board, forehead creased in concentration, and Janus pretended there wasn’t a tug in his heart when Logan leaned over to smooth the skin out just between his eyebrows with his thumb, earning himself a small but genuine smile, before heading back down to work.

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Three weeks into rehearsals and Janus was really getting the hang of his new life. He and his roommate, Remy, the publicity manager for the theater, had moved into a new apartment closer to the theater with Remy’s boyfriend Emile, as between the three of them they could now afford more than what basically amounted to a shoebox. He’d made friends, something he’d thought was somewhat of a pipe dream before. He absolutely adored his job. Two to three times a day he would snag actors to do test runs of looks and see how they turned out on stage, tweaking things here and there when he could. The rest of the time he would help out around the theater, helping Logan with keeping Remus in line and on schedule(Remus would sometimes demand only Janus be allowed in his studio, and Janus had found that Remus was much more bearable when he felt he was paid attention to. Pleasant, even, if a little random and impulsive), shopping for props for Talyn, running lines with Valerie or Roman or Terrence or the background actors when the others were busy, or, most often, assisting Patton in costuming.

Apparently, Patton was supposed to have an assistant but they’d had a family emergency and Patton had brushed off the idea of trying to find someone else on short notice. Janus had noticed, of course, that Patton came in earlier and stayed later than almost anyone else and so he went out of his way to help where he could. He had some basic sewing experience and worked well as a sounding board for Patton to bounce his ideas off of while he worked, and Janus was thrilled to be able to be helpful. He had also noticed Patton was more willing to take breaks if he thought Janus needed one and Janus was not above being a bit dramatic with his yawns to get Patton to relax for a few minutes. He’d become fond of the guy.

He’d just gone to the craft table to grab something Patton would eat, intending to goad him into taking 15 minutes off. He’d gotten a bit sidetracked when Remus decided to “stumble” into him, leaving a large forest-green handprint right in the center of his chest and loudly declare that he needed to take it off (Janus made a note in his head to spend the next day in his workshop, he was definitely looking for attention, and he was missing the rowdier man a bit besides), but he had still only been gone about 20 minutes, so he was surprised when he heard another voice coming from the sewing room aside from Patton. “- and we need to make sure Valerie’s weighted dress is done before next Wednesday, she needs to rehearse the choreography with the added material-”

“Lolo, relax. I’ll get it done, I promise,” came Patton’s voice, light and almost teasing in a way Janus had never heard before. He’d almost describe it as… flirtatious? But that didn’t make any sense… “You’re starting to sound like Virgil with all that fretting. You know me, you know I never break a promise.”

“Y-yes,” and now Logan sounded flustered, which really was out of character, “Of course, Patton, I just wanted to make sure you had all the resources you needed and were not overextending yourself-”

Patton cut him off again, and this time Janus got the impression he was very amused, “I’ve got everything I need, right here, Mr. Berry. I even promise I’ll do something to relax tonight, sound good? Pick up a bottle of wine and have a night in, maybe watch a movie, something to really decompress…” Janus got the distinct feeling he was missing something, because Patton was speaking as though he had a completely different meaning behind the words, but they seemed completely innocent.

Janus finally decided to head into the studio then, feeling like he’d been eavesdropping on something private, and when he saw Patton he was leaning against his desk casually, no indication in his body language at all that he’d been flirting like Janus thought he’d heard. He thought maybe he’d been mistaken, but Logan was adjusting his tie even though the knot was perfect, like always, and had a very faint pink to his cheeks that he would have missed if he weren’t paying attention. He lightly cleared his throat before speaking, “Hello Janus. I was just heading out. Thank you for assisting Patton with keeping to the deadlines, it is much appreciated. Patton, we can continue our discussion later.” Patton smiled brightly, looking like the picture of innocence, and waved as Logan headed back towards Remus’s workshop and Janus repressed a wince. Yeah, he’d definitely visit tomorrow if Logan was going to get on his case about deadlines too.

He pasted a smile on, making sure not to indicate he’d heard anything before coming in, “Hey Pat, I grabbed some cookies and tea from the craft table. Remus sends his regards.” He gestured wryly to the graphic tee shirt he held in his hands, still grateful he’d worn an undershirt today.

Patton beamed and took a cookie, looking all the more innocent when he bounced a bit on his toes, curls catching in the light as they moved with him, “Woo! You rock, we definitely earned a few cookies today!” He tilted his head curiously at the stain, then nodded like he’d decided something, “I can definitely get that out, by the way, just need some vinegar and washing soda. Re does stuff like that to Roman all the time. Leave it with me and it’ll be perfectly fine by tomorrow!”

Janus smiled again, feeling taken care of in a way he hadn’t in a long time, and it felt more real this time, “Thanks Patton.”

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Janus was making good on his promise to himself the next day, lounging on a chair next to the open door of Remus’s workshop even though it was technically his day off. He came into the theater every day no matter what just in case anyone needed assistance, but it was nice to not feel guilty for not doing his own work. He people-watched between the points where Remus would ask for his opinion on a piece or start up a seemingly unrelated conversation, letting the silence fall when Remus needed to focus. He’d been watching Virgil up in the tech box, messing with the settings for the lighting of one of Valerie’s solo scenes while she rehearsed. He had that focused crease in his brow again but he didn’t look nearly as murderous as when Remus screwed around with his speakers, so Janus didn’t feel the need to get Logan yet, but when the door opened behind the engineer he’d still been expecting the technical director to come in.

What happened instead was much more confounding to Janus. Patton burst through the door, looking worn down and cranky, and paced the room a few times with his hands waving around. Virgil took his headphones off without turning around and nodded along, not breaking focus at all but still responding from what Janus could see. Then, seemingly out of steam, the costume designer maneuvered around cords and computers over to Virgil’s chair and promptly ducked under his arm and threw a leg over Virgil’s before burrowing his face into Virgil’s neck. Virgil didn’t flinch at all, continuing to focus on the lighting of the scene by simply arranging Patton slightly on his lap so he could tuck his own head over his shoulder.

At some point in the performance on stage, Valerie and the director aimed a thumbs up at the light box, and Virgil gave a self satisfied smile as he leaned back and finally wrapped his arms around Patton in return.

“Jannie?” Remus called, sitting back from his stage setting, a beautiful star-lit grove, “Do you think you could make me look like a werewolf?”

Janus blinked at him for a couple moments, not knowing how to respond, before he just  shrugged, “Sure. Might look a little weird with your mustache though.”

Remus nodded, once, with finality to it, “How about a tentacle monster?”

“Same answer,” Janus replied, quicker this time now that he knew where Remus’s head was at.

“Huh. I think I’d like to try being a tentacle monster at some point. Could probably terrify the shit outta Roman. Not to mention all the benefits of tentacles.”

Janus laughed, charmed as always by Remus’s ability to just say whatever he felt like without hiding anything, “You name the time and place and I’ll be there, Remus.”

Remus gave him a blinding smile and Janus felt his breath catch a bit. God, this whole thing was so stupid but he couldn’t bring himself to care at all. He found that he’d do just about anything to make Remus smile like that again. “It’s really nice to have a partner in crime now,” Remus enthused, twirling his paintbrush without a care in the world if he splashed himself with paint.

“Yeah, Re, I get what you mean.”

By the time Remus had gone back to work splattering a blood stain artfully over a tree in the middle of the otherwise beautiful landscape, Patton had left the tech box and Virgil was back to his computer with his headphones on.

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It was one week til opening night, and Janus had been sent to find Remus, who had apparently announced he was going on a quest for inspiration which alarmed pretty much everyone who knew him, but instead he’d stumbled upon Logan, alone in the orchestra pit, looking like he was ready to scream as he tugged at the padlock on a crate. Janus made his way over and tapped Logan on the shoulder lightly, “Hey, everything alright?”

Logan’s eyes were fiery as he responded, and Janus was just a little bit taken aback, “The previous production group left the alternate curtain ropes in this container, nicely labeled and everything, except the box has this godforsaken lock and I do not want to have to pay for bolt cutters. Or have the time to buy them before dress rehearsals. It’s rather… infuriating.”

Janus laughed a bit and knelt down next to the box, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and taking a long thin piece of metal out, “You don’t have to do that, rotation locks like this are ridiculously easy to pick.” He manipulated the piece of metal up under the last rotation dial and pressed up, trying to listen for the click even though Roman and Valerie were rehearsing their final duet up on stage. He finally got the lock to pop open and turned to show it to Logan, only to find him thoroughly distracted by the scene on the stage.

Janus could understand, he had no interest in Roman Prince( his brother on the other hand...) but even he thought the way he was waltzing Valerie around the stage was a bit hypnotizing, the lyrics soft and sultry and romantic for the final number of the performance. Logan seemed to be completely entranced, singing along under his breath to Valerie’s piece and following their movements carefully. His eyes were filled with nothing short of adoration as he swayed to the music and as Janus watched carefully, the movements matched up fairly evenly to Valerie’s part in the dance as well. Logan didn’t look away until the director had called for a cut for adjustments. He shook himself slightly, seeming to remember all of a sudden that Janus was there, and flushed brightly as he took the lock from Janus, “Oh. Um. Thank you, very much. Where did you learn to pick locks like that?”

Janus could practically envision his mask slipping into place, covering the memories of manipulating the door to the theater open for what must have been the hundredth time only to come face to face with the new owner…

“Oh it’s barely a party trick, just something I picked up along the line. Let me know if you need any more street-rat techniques,” he brushed off with a wry grin, waving a hand dismissively, “Anywho, any chance you’ve seen Remus around?”

Logan eyed him a bit critically for a moment then seemed to choose not to push it further, “Yes, I believe I saw him lurking back by your station actually.”

Janus repressed a disappointed sigh at himself. Of course, Remus had come looking for him if something had upset him. He took off for the makeup room quickly, leaving Logan behind to stare up at the stage again while Roman began rehearsing the solo piece of the song. He didn’t miss the small wink Roman aimed down at the pit when the director had turned to answer a question, and filed that bit of information away with Logan’s admiring gaze to analyze after he’d made sure Remus was alright.

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Janus was not used to anyone being in his station before him, but he was starting to become used to being surprised, so he didn’t even really react to seeing Roman and Virgil commandeering one of his makeup chairs, Roman’s hands buried in Virgil’s long black and purple hair, twisting it into intricate braids as they argued fiercely. “No, Virge, you don’t get to say ‘American Idiot’ is your favorite Broadway song. That doesn’t count.”

“It totally counts. You wouldn’t say ‘Honey, Honey’ doesn’t count, even though that’s just an ABBA song!”

“Don’t you dare bring Mamma Mia into this, that is a classic!”

“So is American Idiot!”

“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” Janus droned, smiling at the Venti Iced Mocha sitting on his rolling tray, ice not even melted yet, with a little doodle of a green dragon blowing fire at what he could only assume was Roman on one side, and a python wearing Janus’s signature beanie on the other. Virgil and Roman both turned to glare at him and he smirked back, lounging back in his chair and taking a long sip from his coffee in a loose impression of Remy, “What are you two doing in my domain aside from attempting to drive each other up the wall?”

“Princey was having a minor meltdown about opening night tomorrow, so I told him he could braid my hair,” Virgil told him, squinting curiously at the cup like he was trying to make out what the doodles were.

“Not true! Virgil was freaking out about opening night, not me, and he asked me to braid his hair,” Roman whined, though Janus noted that the whole time Roman’s hands never stopped moving and Virgil seemed to lean further and further into them, both their shoulders relaxing more and more as the braids took a more concrete form, “Though I will admit it is somewhat of a ritual for us at this point. Been doing this since freshman year of college when Virge first started growing his hair out.”

“Barely had enough for one braid back then, you would just do it and take it out over and over again while I ran lines with you,” Virgil commented fondly, fidgeting with the end of a piece which was left down.

“And I didn’t have the skills which I do now, of course.”

“Oh, no doubt. Maybe I’ll cut it so you could test that theory.”

“Don’t you dare!” Janus looked up from his thank you text to Remus(he’d responded with a giant squid emoji, followed by a dirty joke about proper thank yous which Janus found unreasonably funny), tilting his head curiously at Virgil’s smirk and Roman’s blush. “I-I mean, it’s your hair, obviously, but it definitely suits you being grown out.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll leave it be. Just for you,” Virgil shot back, and Janus felt like he could see the years of friendship in his smile.

Roman and Virgil stuck around for another hour until the director got there, ribbing each other over everything from music preference to sleeping habits to, bizarrely, the dark undertones of Disney movies, not even noticing when Janus slipped off to Remus’s workshop to have his own minor meltdown about opening night, lost in their own little world.

(Remus already had a hammer and some messed-up pottery out, actually encouraged him to smash stuff, cheering him on enthusiastically, and Janus thought he might have found his own pre-show ritual. He didn’t even realize he hadn’t felt envious of Roman and Virgil’s easy camaraderie and teasing affection at all until he was lying in bed that night.)

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

Janus made a downright embarrassing shriek when he felt a mustache rub against his neck and Terrence broke off from their conversation to the living room with a playful eye roll, leaving the other two in the kitchen. “Come on Re, don’t start anything you can’t finish in public,” he teased lightly, patting Remus on the cheek, the adrenaline rush from three successful shows, the pure joy at being officially offered a full time position within the theater troupe from Thomas (from Thomas , who took a chance on the high school dropout who snuck in to the theater to use the big mirrors and the real theater makeup and listen to music echo through the empty stage. Thomas who so generously gave him the recommendation letter he needed to get the scholarship to cosmetology school. Thomas who found him a roommate so he wouldn’t have to stay with an older brother that didn’t understand him at all. Thomas who had seen his talent for deception and pushed him to turn it into art. Thomas who Janus owed his entire life to...) and the three vodka sodas in his system making it difficult to even begin to hide his flirtation, especially since he was fairly confident at this point he wouldn’t be rebuffed.

He felt more than heard the laugh that followed as Remus pulled away, still leaving his arms wrapped around Janus’s waist, a testament to the comfortable something (Janus refused to call it a relationship, even in his head, lest he burst the perfect bubble of happiness) they’d fallen into, “Come on Jan, you can’t deprive me of finally getting revenge on my brother for the years of cast-party-brand PDA he’s put me through.”

Janus stiffened and he turned to face Remus quickly, bracing himself on Remus’s chest when he started to trip a bit out of tipsiness. He also blamed the tipsiness for his lack of ability to cover up his curiosity, “PDA? What do you mean? I’ve spent the last 6 weeks trying to figure out who would end up with who in that group, but Roman’s already seeing someone?”

Remus smirked at him, clearly enjoying a less-inhibited Janus, and didn’t audibly answer. Instead, he laced their fingers together(Janus was not blushing like he was a middle-schooler. He wasn’t. If his foundation just so happened to help hide that lie then so be it.) and led him back towards the living room where a particularly rowdy game of beer pong was being played with Logan and Virgil on one side with only one cup in front of them and Joan and Talyn on the other with two, all four of them looking like a giant weight was off their shoulders with the last show of the first weekend over and done with and four whole days before the next one. Patton and Roman stood behind Logan and Virgil’s side, alternating between making ridiculous and distracting movements and singing along to whatever was playing through the speakers. The other team missed both their shots and Virgil snagged the balls, handing one to Logan before holding the other behind him. Patton leaned in and blew on the ball, then leaned further to press a kiss to Virgil’s cheek with a visible giggle while Roman mimicked his motions with Logan. Oh, ok, that kinda made sense for how the pairings worked out, he supposed…

Janus’s head tilted in confusion as Roman and Patton promptly switched positions and repeated their actions before they actually fell back. Logan and Virgil then glanced at each other from the corners of their eye, smirked, and sent both balls flying in unison. They didn’t even circle the rim, sinking easily, and the room erupted in chants to “chug” that Joan and Talyn took good naturedly on one knee as they emptied their cups.

Janus wasn’t watching the prop master and stage manager, though, instead focused on where Logan had apparently flung himself into Virgil’s arms in celebration, wrapped his legs around his waist, and promptly kissed him like he was trying to devour him, glasses tilted with no attempt being made to adjust them. Patton laughed brightly and tugged on Virgil’s sleeve to bring them both over to the couch with a practiced ease that said this was a fairly regular occurrence, Roman practically skipping as he followed. Logan transferred to Roman’s lap once they were settled, kissing him with the same amount of barely-restrained hunger, and Patton took his place in Virgil’s, pressing small kisses up his throat at the same time as he hooked his pinky with Logan’s and nudged his feet under Roman’s thigh, at which point Janus looked away, blushing furiously at just how shameless they all were.

He turned back to Remus with wide eyes just to find him openly laughing at him, “How long have you spent trying to figure that out, hm? For someone so smart you’re kinda a dumbass sometimes.”

Janus pouted, still feeling flustered and embarrassed that he’d somehow missed the idea of polyamory, but in the back of his mind he was delighted that the angry green jealous monster was no longer clawing at his insides at seeing so much open affection. He finally had someone who replaced that nasty curl with fluttering butterflies. Someone who gave a shit about him, and who was darkly hilarious and creative and didn’t hide anything but didn’t push Janus to be completely open in return. Someone Janus could truly see a future with, someone he felt he could trust.

He made a calculated decision, and his mouth turned up in a smirk as he grabbed Remus’s wrist and tugged him over to the pong table, “Tell you what, Re-Re. You help me win and you can have as much revenge as you want.”

Remus’s eyes went dark but his smile was blinding, “And if we lose?”

Janus grinned back, sharp and wicked, and easily sunk his first ball despite Remy’s boyfriend Emile jumping around ridiculously on the other side, “Guess you’ll just have to keep up so we don’t.” Remus’s grin widened even further at the challenge and he nodded resolutely, focus zeroed in.

For all the talk of revenge, they didn’t even notice Roman’s indignant squawk when Remus pinned Janus to the wall before Remy could even take the last cup off the table.

[softestvirgil]

Switching Places

Inspired by an ask I got a few nights ago! 

Summary: The sides get their roles swapped

Genre: Canon-verse

Rating: PG

Pairing(s): None

Word count: 3461

Warnings: Remus, Deceit, Sex mentions, cursing, dead animal mentions, fighting, light angst

Let me know if there’s any more I should add!

It was after three in the morning, and Thomas had been trying to sleep for hours, but it wasn't working. His mind seemed to be at war. So, he decided to do what he always did when that happened.

"Guys, we need to have a conversation!" Thomas shouted in his living room, and one by one the sides were summoned against their will, each one looking more disheveled than the last. 

"It's three in the morning, Thomas. Is something the matter?" Logan asked as he rose up. 

Patton rubbed his eyes and agreed. "Yeah, it is quite late, kiddo," 

"What could possibly be so important you needed to interrupt me in the middle of my beauty sleep, Thomas?" Roman snapped, sassily gesturing to his face when he said "beauty". 

"Don't think your beauty sleep is working," Virgil commented, annoyed by the whole situation but mostly how loud Roman was being. 

Deceit smirked from beside Logan. "I think it is," 

"Oh great, he's here," Virgil grumbled. "This night just keeps getting better,"

Logan blinked at Deceit. "I… didn't even notice his presence. I'm usually the first one to call out his name. Have I lost my touch?"

"Yeah, I called all of you," Thomas said and looked nervously over at the TV behind Roman.

"Oh no," Roman whispered. "We just got rid of him!" 

"Rid of me?" Remus laughed. "I'm not a dead pet, Roman. You can't just bury me in the backyard," 

"Dead pet?" Patton repeated with wide eyes.

Thomas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Listen, guys. We need to talk and then I promise, I will go to bed," 

"Great. What can we assist you with, Thomas?" Logan asked.

"Well, you all seem to be… at each other tonight…" Thomas began, looking at each side.

Roman scoffed. "Whatever do you mean? We've been getting along just fine," 

"Oh, really?" Thomas asked, looking to Virgil for confirmation.

"That has… not been my experience," Virgil said, staring daggers at Deceit. 

Thomas quirked a brow. "Well, what's going on, Virge?" 

"Oh, they have a nickname for you now… how cute," Deceit faux complimented, smirking as if he had the upper hand due to Virgil's violent reactions.

Virgil rolled his eyes. "The only thing that's cute here is that you even think you're getting to me,"

"Am I not?" Deceit wondered, eyeing the anxious side as he angrily tapped his foot on the floor. 

"No," Virgil said firmly, while still tapping.

Thomas sighed in frustration. "Listen, guys! I just, need you to explain how this all started. Please,"

"He," Virgil gestured to Deceit, who waved sensually. "Won't stop randomly showing up in my room,"

Deceit faked hurt. "What? I can't visit an old friend?" 

"We are not friends," Virgil told him. "And even my friends aren't allowed in my room," 

Roman nodded. "It's true, we're not," 

Remus perked up. "Oh golly, some pretty kinky stuff must be happening in there… wanna give us all the juicy details?" 

"What is with you and the word juicy?" Thomas asked to which Remus just shrugged.

"I just like it, it paints a nice picture… like the picture of a-"

"Yes, a butthole. Got it," Thomas finished for him.

Remus laughed. "Wow, Thomas! You're learning. I'm so proud," 

Virgil defended himself. "No, Remus nothing… kinky is happening in there!" 

"That is exactly what someone who has a super-secret sex dungeon would say…"  Remus commented, wiggling around for emphasis. 

"Moving on. They aren't the only ones who aren't getting along," Logan announced.

"Do tell," Thomas said tiredly.

"Well, Roman and I have had our fair share of arguments recently," Logan explained, and everyone looked at him as if he had just told the funniest joke.

"You… are you really that un-self-aware?" Virgil asked him. 

"What do you mean?" Logan replied, quirking a brow.

Virgil groaned. "I mean, you guys are always fighting! It's not exactly breaking news," 

"The only reason we're arguing in the first place is because of his stupid punctuality planner! It has so little room for creativity," Roman whined, stomping his feet like an angry child. 

"You have an hour allotted that should be plenty of time," Logan replied dryly, ignoring the matter at hand.

Roman scowled. "An hour is not even long enough to get the ball rolling, but if you were creativity you would know that," 

"Ball rolling… like… testicles… taped to a bowling ball?" Remus yelled, and everyone made respective sounds of disgust. 

"No… not at all..  like that," Roman replied, moving further away from his brother. 

Patton frowned. 

"Patton? You've been rather quiet. How are you holding up?" Thomas asked his moral side, who managed to work up a smile. 

"Oh yeah! I'm doing just fine, Thomas," He said, with a cheerfulness that almost seemed eerie.

"Yeah, he's lying," Deceit stated blankly, looking at his fingers.

"Yeah… I knew that, but thanks," Thomas replied. 

"I- wasn't lying I just…" Patton started but stopped himself. 

"It's okay. You can tell me," Thomas told him, with a warm smile.

"Well… I just don't enjoy how… frequent, Remus has been talking about dead animals and such,"

Remus laughed. "Dead animals are funny though, Patton. There's this one picture Thomas saw where-" 

Thomas shook his head, covering his ears "No! No. Do not bring that up. Or I'll definitely not be getting to sleep tonight," 

"If you'd just tell him-" Remus pointed at Patton, “and him,” he pointed at Virgil. "-to relax, and stop being such prudes, then everything would be fine," 

"I am not a prude. I just don't like hearing that kind of stuff. Animals are so wonderful and I love them!" Patton yelled, shocking everyone. 

Remus giggled. "Oh no! Daddy's putting his foot down, everyone. What're you gonna do, huh? Spank me?" 

"Well maybe if you two would just leave, then we can call it a night," Virgil said, and the two dark sides looked genuinely hurt by his words, which Thomas was surprised by.

"I tend to agree, Virgil," Roman said and Virgil glared at him. "I just mean that… you're being a bit too p- uh, overly cautious," 

"Okay, you know what? You can leave too," Virgil sneered and Roman gasped at him, putting his hand to his chest.

"Okay, no. Guys, is there any way we can settle this for the night, without anybody leaving?" Thomas asked, looking to everyone for an idea.

Then after a moment of silence, Roman finally came up with a plan. 

"I have an idea," He declared abruptly.

Logan exhaled, tiredly adjusting his glasses. "Oh, do tell," 

Roman suddenly looked tense. "Well… you're not going to like it," 

"What is it, Roman?" Thomas pleaded.

"We could go into daydream mode and... switch roles, " Roman explained. "And then that would allow us to see from each other's point of view?"

"Switch roles? Is that even possible?" Thomas wondered. 

"Anything is possible in the mind palace Thomas," Roman bragged with a smile. "My job is pretty cool you know," 

"You're right. I do not like this," Logan informed.

Patton raised his hand as if he was in class "I'm willing to try. If it'll help," 

Virgil widened his eyes. "I'm not! Thomas this is a bad idea. A very bad idea," 

"Listen, I'm willing to try anything. I'm exhausted and you guys fighting is what is causing that. So if switching roles can help you put aside your differences and see from each other's points of view, then I'm all for it," Thomas announced. 

"It may work but I already have an idea of where this is going and I would rather go back to the old puppet idea," Logan said. 

"Oh, come on Logan. It might be fun!" Patton encouraged.

"Hmm. Would it be so fun for you if you got switched with one of them?" Virgil asked the "them" he was referencing was obvious to everyone, including the ones he meant. 

"Uh, well…" Patton trailed off nervously.

"I just proved my point," Virgil stated. "Let's just table this for another time," 

Thomas reached his limit. "You know what? That's it. Roman, I give you permission," 

"Really?" Roman asked. 

Thomas nodded. "Really. I just want to sleep at some point tonight," 

"Woo! Okay," Roman cheered. "Alright let me just…" 

Roman snapped and then they all appeared in the mind palace, which was currently blank. 

"One second…" Roman shut his eyes and then they all seemed to be back in Thomas' apartment.

"This… is just my apartment," Thomas said.

"Or is it?" Roman smirked.

"Wait, we're in the mind palace right now?" Thomas asked, looking around in awe at "his apartment" which looked exactly the same, but somehow slightly brighter.

Roman looked around, proud of his work. "Yup," 

"Wow, Roman, I'm so impressed," Deceit said, and he too was looking around but with less wonder and more judgment. 

Roman was touched by this. "Thank you," 

"Can we just get this over with," Virgil snapped, rubbing his temples. "I'm getting a migraine," 

"Alright if you insist," Roman sighed and shut his eyes. He then snapped his fingers and, it happened. 

At first, everyone was disoriented, but then it really set in.

Everyone was in the same places, but they had all switched roles, as well as colors. 

"Wow, I love this," Virgil said and was startled by his own voice, slapping his hand over his mouth. That wasn't his voice that was… Deceits. His hoodie was now covered in yellow patches rather than his usual purple, but he was glad he at least didn't change clothes. 

"Okay so, Virgil is now, Deceit. Cool," Thomas said, nervously eyeing Virgil who looked as if he was going to vomit. 

"Oh, oh no…" Logan said dramatically, looking at his shirt. "I knew it. I knew you would do this," 

It was red, which meant he had swapped with Roman.

Roman sighed. "Don't look so disappointed, Logan. This exercise will be highly effective in helping us better understand each other. You may as well try to participate with an open mind,"  

Thomas eyed them. "You guys sound like each other and I don't know why, but I wasn't expecting that," 

Roman all the sudden had glasses, and Logan's had disappeared. "Yes, well, we have swapped traits and it seems clear to me now that our traits have a lot to do with our mannerisms and speech patterns," 

"You stole my glasses you heathen!" Logan shouted, ignoring Roman’s previous statement.

“Indeed,” Roman said. “Wait a minute…”

Logan frowned dramatically. “I do not enjoy this one bit Roman, I am already cranky! Change me back!”

Roman adjusted his glasses as Logan would. “No, I don’t think I will,”

“I totally don’t want to change back,” Virgil whispered quietly, his tempest tongue in full effect.

Remus pouted, his clothes now blue instead of their usual green. “C’ mon Roman, it’s not very nice to make Logan and Virgil do this if they don’t want to,” 

“Oh no… oh- not-” Thomas realized Remus had switched with Patton which meant…

Patton sighed, knowing what Thomas was thinking. “Oh yes! I mean definitely no but also yes,” 

“Patton? How do you feel?” Thomas asked nervously, which caused Virgil to flip his hood over his head.

“Like a buttcheek on a stick,” Patton said and then he too covered his mouth. 

“Oh, that is not ideal,” Roman commented, eyeing Patton cautiously.

Logan scoffed. “Not ideal? None of this is ideal Roman!” 

“It’s not only my fault. Thomas gave me the go-ahead,” Roman reminded.

“Yeah uh, what the hell, Thomas?” Logan yelled. “How dare you do this to me! It’s not fair!”

Thomas backed up. “You guys are the ones keeping me up so if you could just learn whatever lesson you are supposed to be learning from this we can all go back to normal and I can go to sleep,”

“If Roman weren’t such a b*tch we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Logan defended himself, to which Roman just rolled his eyes.

“Look at you, Logan. You are usually so eloquent but now you cannot even form a good insult. It’s pathetic,” Roman’s words were full of malice and Logan’s eyes went big.

“This is why I didn’t want to do this! I have to be-”

“Taken seriously. We know! Now, we don’t care,” Roman stated. “You have proven time and time again that you are simply incompetent at your job, so maybe I should do both of our jobs,”

“That is not… at all the resolution you guys should be having right now,” Thomas commented, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. “Play nice, please,”

“Play nice? Play nice? Did you hear what he just said to me?” Logan was upset, and the louder he got the more he sounded like Roman, which was a thing he had yet to notice.

“I don’t like this,” Deceit said, finally speaking. His voice was much lower and more similar to Virgil’s tone.

“Deceit! You’re here! And you’re-”

“Anxiety and I have no idea how Virgil does this. I’m not having a good time,” Deceit informed, fixing his hair to cover his face. 

“Well, I’m sure it’s not all bad,” Remus tried to reassure Virgil, as Patton would. “It must have its moments,”

“Oh yeah, it’s fantastic,” Virgil whispered again, still echoing. He now had Deceit’s cape instead of his hoodie, and his hoodie had appeared on Deceit instead.

“Well, maybe now you understand why it’s not okay to just drop into Virgil’s room whenever you feel like it,” Thomas suggested, to which Deceit nodded.

“Yeah if any of you randomly dropped into my room right now I would probably scream so uh, sorry, Virgil,” Deceit apologized to which Virgil just groaned.

“You aren’t talking much, Patton,” Remus said and Patton just looked down.

“I would rather not,” Patton murmured from underneath his hand. 

Remus shrugged. “Well, now you know how I feel,” 

“How you feel?” Thomas repeated.

“You always say the first thing that pops into your head,” Logan agreed.

Remus sighed. “Yeah because I can’t control it. Being quiet is like…”

“Pulling out your own teeth with a pair of needle-nose pliers,” Patton said. “It hurts,” Then his outfit shifted to be more like Remus’ and Remus’ started changing too.

“Exactly,” Remus nodded.

“I had no idea, Remus…” Roman said, dropping for a moment to feel a bit of guilt for how he had treated him. 

“It’s not like you ever asked,” Remus replied, pouting. 

“I’m not going to come over there and fight you if you don’t turn us back,” Virgil yelled at Roman. 

The more time they spent in each other's roles the more they were changing, and despite the fact that he was technically Deceit now, this was still just the mind palace, and he was still just anxiety, so all of this was affecting him… which meant it was affecting Thomas.

“Well, I am glad,” Roman said flatly and Virgil just wanted to rip his hair out.

“I really… want to stay like this forever!” Virgil yelled again, his face was full of rage and it did not match his words.

“Good, maybe you will,” Roman said and everyone stopped. Roman was not willing to give this up, he had a point to prove but why? No one was really sure, and they were all worried, but Logan was worried most. “You can’t be serious,” He said, but he knew there was a big chance he wasn’t joking. Especially considering he couldn’t really “joke” right now.

Roman remained stoic. “I am serious. I have the upper hand, here. None of you know how to end daydream mode except me, and I certainly will not divulge that information,”

“Why not?!” Logan screamed, and Virgil covered his ears, then noticed that Deceit did the same.

“Too loud, dude,” Deceit said, and Virgil looked offended. “That’s not my thing…”

“Because clearly none of you deserve your roles, and neither do I,” Roman was taking this all wrong, and Thomas was unsure how to fix it. “So, we may as well stay this way,”

Virgil was reaching his limit, still echoing fully. “Thomas isn’t anxious right now, and we definitely don’t need to find a way to stop this,”

“Oh… yeah. I didn’t even notice,” Thomas said, shaking. “Patton, Logan… You guys are creativity right now… you got any ideas on how to get us out of here?” He asked, which made Logan and Patton meet eyes.

Roman rolled his eyes. “Nice try but the mind palace won’t listen-”

Then Logan got an idea. “Patton? Snap at the same time as me on 3,” Logan instructed.

“Okay,” Patton replied, quietly.

“I wouldn’t do that-” Roman tried but it was no use.

“1...2...3!” Logan shouted and the two snapped at the same time, causing them to rise back up into Thomas’ real apartment in a big flash of light.

“Have we all returned back to normal?” Logan wondered, and began feeling around for his glasses, then when he found them he practically jumped from joy. Which caused the others to stare at him. “Ahem… pardon my outburst. Just glad to be back to my old self again,”

“It was really cute, Logan!” Patton squealed. 

Virgil sighed in relief, no longer echoing. “That was... horrible,”

“I loved it, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Deceit said.

“Well, I know that’s a lie,” Thomas said, and Virgil frowned. “It isn’t under his control half the time. I couldn’t tell the truth no matter how much I wanted to,”��

“It seems like that’s the case for Deceit and Remus, neither of them can really control how they talk,” Roman said, empathizing with the two a bit. 

Remus laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I like my job! It’s the tits!” 

Patton grimaced. “I’m sure it’s not… a…”

“A tit? Two tits?” Remus asked. “It’s more like five or six tits, sextupli-tits!” 

“Oh, a pun, that’s nice,” Patton was trying, and he lent a warm smile to Remus, who smiled back.

“You’re not half bad yourself, Daddy,” Remus replied with a wink before sinking down, and Patton waved goodbye to him. 

“I don’t want to leave too, I’m having a great time,” Deceit began sinking out.

“Hey! No more going in my room!” Virgil yelled, making sure Deceit was clear on that. 

“Alright. Fine,” Deceit conceded, and finally went back to wherever he came from.

“Roman… do you have anything to say to us?” Thomas asked, and Roman crossed his arms. 

“Nope,” Roman insisted. “I did nothing wrong,”

“You can’t really think that…” Virgil said and looked at him. “Can you?”

Roman shook his head. “Logan deserved it for not allowing me more room to express myself. It isn’t fair that in order for Thomas to have a productive lifestyle in his mind, he must abandon creativity. Creativity is a big part of who Thomas is! Without me- us… he wouldn’t be the Thomas we know and love,”

“I suppose you’re right, I’m sorry, Roman,” Logan said, genuinely feeling bad. Which was new for him.

“Did… did you just apologize… to me?” Roman asked, dumbfounded.

Logan fixed his tie. “I did indeed. Regardless of how you handled it, I wasn’t being fair to you and I ignored how you feel. For that, I am sorry,” 

“This is so cute! We’re all getting along!” Patton cheered.

Virgil rolled his eyes with a smirk before sinking out. “Yeah… I’m gonna go back to my room now and think up more ways to stop Thomas from going outside, later,” 

“What a productive evening! It’s already 4:30!” Patton exclaimed and sunk out.

“Yeah… that’s what night time is for… not sleeping,” Thomas commented sarcastically.

“Go to bed, Thomas,” Logan said, then sunk out.

“Yes, do try to get some rest… and Thomas?” Roman began.

“Yeah, Roman?” Thomas replied.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said, with a sad smile.

Thomas smiled. “It’s.. alright Roman. It all worked out… I think,”

“Me too,” Roman said before finally sinking out, leaving Thomas to go and get some use of was left of the night. 

Bonus, End Card!

Remus rose up in Virgil’s room. “Virgil! Where are you hiding the sex dungeon!”

Virgil hissed. “There is no dungeon, there’s nothing kinky... just lots of cobwebs!” He yelled. “Get out!”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Remus asked and looked around for Deceit.

“I’m not! He would be here if I were and you know it,” Virgil reminded.

Remus frowned from disappointment “Alright… fine, but if you’re holding out on me-”

Virgil scoffed. “I’m not. Goodbye, Remus,” He then waved sassily signaling the creative side to leave.

Remus smirked and waved back as he sunk down. “Fair well, Virgil. See you soon,” 

Authors note: I know Patton didn’t say a whole lot in Remus’ role but I found that hard to write! Apologies!

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

YAY TH! 💛i was thinking plus size reader travels with Jaskier &Geralt, she's good friends with both but has always been in love with Jaskier She has notebooks she draws in & is so careful to never draw all of jaskier ON one page She's got pages of eyes, hands, chest, neck, hair, all the little parts of him she loves But she thinks he could never love her cuz she's not the typical kind of girl he goes with One day he finds her notebook he knows he shouldn't look she always swats him away 1/2

But he cant help it. He’s so curious and at first he doesn’t realize who it is, just thinks the art is beautiful. And then on the last page there’s an incredibly detailed drawing of a feild of buttercup flowers, maybe with Jaskier in the middle playing his lute in the sun. he talks to her carefully about it. Cuz she’s shy but she usually tells him everything, and he loves her too he just never wanted to make her uncomfortable. Then love confessions! Woo! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! (2/2)

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 1,836Rating: GTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle a/n: This was a really interesting challenge for me. I’ve been plus size my entire life and I don’t think I’ve ever once written a character who looked like me. Writing this was really eye-opening for me and made me really think about how to portray a plus size character in a way that was positive while still acknowledging the very real insecurities and struggles. I hope this is ok and what you were looking for and thank you for the prompt!

Being Jaskier’s best friend was glorious.

He always got invited to the best parties and insisted on bringing you along. He knew the best tailors who made you dresses that flowed perfectly with your body. Growing up you’d been forced into clothes that were the same cut and shape as others around you, just larger, which somehow left you feeling both swamped and pinched by the fabric as it tried to force your body into a shape it simply wasn’t. But the tailors Jaskier took you to fit wonderfully and if they ever rankled at or felt challenged by your size you never knew because Jaskier would have slain them where they stood if they even breathed a word to that effect. Jaskier was fun and affectionate but also fiercely protective in a way that made you feel cared for even if it did sometimes make your heart ache a little. When he turned away the men who came to ask you to dance or tried to pursue you he always declared it was because he knew their “reputation” and they “weren’t good enough for you” but a small part of you – well, alright, a very significant part of you – wished he were doing it because he wanted you all for himself.

He called you his muse though creative partner was a more fitting title. Being a ‘muse’ implied you just sat there and looked stunning and words flowed through the artist. In truth the pair of you talked through his song dilemmas. You challenged near rhymes and even though he put up a fuss in the moment, later on he would always thank you and give credit to you for helping him ensure a song flowed perfectly. In turn you would work on your drawing as he composed. You’d catch him sneaking a glance every now and then and you always swatted him away, but you’d been extra careful to ensure that even if he did look he wouldn’t realize what you were doing. Only one picture, drawn up after an especially beautiful day where he’d taken you to a field of buttercups, woven you a crown and declared you Queen of Springtime, exposed your deep secret. But he would never see it because you were too careful about keeping it close and he did respect your privacy after all

—–

Jaskier knew he shouldn’t do it.

You always kept your notebook on you and when you saw him try to take peeks you swatted him away. He knew it was private and important to you. So much so that he almost became jealous of the damn thing. When would you gaze at him the same adoring way you gazed at whatever you drew? His heart churned with jealousy at the thought that you were drawing someone. Some man he hadn’t been quick enough to push away. He felt a tinge of guilt at that, knowing it wasn’t fair to keep you from finding a partner when he was too afraid to make his intentions known. But he would tell you one day. As soon as he got any sort of sign that the feelings would be reciprocated. Or, if he knew you were interested in someone else, he was gracefully bow out and never tell you. And perhaps his answer was waiting in that notebook. And perhaps that was reason enough.

As he flipped through the pages he admired your great talent. The craftwork in drawing the hands, long-fingered and held in different poses. Some were positioned as though it was holding an invisible instrument while others were gestured openly or clasped together. Some hair that swooped to an angle, thick and fluffy in some though she’d also taken the challenge of drawing it wet, dripping down the neck into the collar of an undershirt. Then there were drawings of eyes. Though no color was etched into them the eyes were gorgeous. Light and filled with a light that nearly gleamed off the page. A thick neck, craning at an angle that attached to just the barest edge of a strong jaw. A picture of someone that only showed the collar bones down to the waist, an undershirt left open long enough to show an etching of thick, dark chest hair. He flipped through the photos feeling an odd sense of familiarity but mostly immense pride, already trying to figure out how to tell her that she must begin selling her art or at the very least not hide it away from the world any longer.

And then he flipped to the last page.

He almost missed it, skimming fast as the pages grew blank, but he saw a touch of color. He remembered the day he’d gifted you the colored pencils. Your face had lit up and you’d thrown your arms around him, pressing your soft, warm body against his and he’d taken the chance to hold you close for longer than your usual hugs, relishing the feeling of having you in his arms. That was the end of a perfect day. A day he’d almost told you, as he looked into your eyes, farmed by a crown of buttercups. He’d almost told you that even surrounded by the gorgeous blooms, you were the fairest thing by far. But his courage had failed him and so instead he’d found you the pencils, a technicolor declaration of love he worried he would never put into words. He’d wondered if you even used them since every drawing was in the same grey and white but there it was. A picture filled with color. And himself.

He sat cross-legged in the center of a wide expanse of buttercups, lute in hand. The same hands, he realized now, that he’d seen earlier in the notebook. The hands that held the book, trembling slightly as his heart swelled and took in the picture. You’d lovingly sketched every detail of his outfit from the cerulean of his doublet to the off-cream of his undershirt. His hair fell over his face slightly though did not obscure the brilliant blue eyes that gazed at the viewer of the photo much the same way he imagined he must be looking at it right now. His mouth was drawn open mid-song and he could even tell what lyric was passing through his lips. Your talent was truly spectacular. And you loved him. And he wouldn’t waste anymore time.

—–

When you returned from the market you were frazzled. You’d left your notebook behind and that was too dangerous. You’d practically run all the way back, arriving to camp winded and red faced. So much so that Geralt drew his sword, certain you were being pursued, and you had to convince him through gasps that everything was fine. And then you saw Jaskier walk into view, holding the notebook. Your heart sank and when Jaskier saw you he froze. He looked a little guilty but there was more there as well. You couldn’t place it, too anxious about your secret finally getting out. As he walked over to you, you began to try and form a lie that would cover it up and let things stay the way they were before.

“Geralt can we have a moment?” Jaskier asked once he reached you. Geralt opened his mouth to say something but Roach nickered and he sighed heavily and stood up, taking her reins and walking away without another word to either of you. Your heart pounded in your chest and you looked down at the notebook still in Jaskier’s hands.

“Y/N, I should apologize-”

“It’s fine just give it back,” you said quickly, reaching for the notebook but he pulled it away too fast.

“I should apologize, but I’m not going to,” he finished. Your eyes widened slightly and he held up a hand to staunch the angry tirade he could see welling up.

“Y/N, you’re amazing,” he said a little breathlessly, “Your art, your talent, it’s… it’s just beyond compare. I understand what it means, how important one’s creative works are and how personal, but please at least assure me that you aren’t hiding it away out of some misplaced sense of insecurity. Because you have nothing to feel insecure about, Y/N. Nothing.”

You fought back the tears that the words, hitting so close to so many parts of yourself you had never even told him about, brought to your eyes.

“Jaskier, how much did you see?” you asked, your eyes falling to the notebook.

“Everything,” he said, “I saw everything.”

“Fuck…”

“Y/N,” he tilted your chin up gently with one hand, raising your eyes to meet his. “I love you.”

“I know you do, Jaskier, we’re very good friends-”

“Y/N,” he said, cutting you off and gently resting the notebook on the ground so he could take your face in both of his hands as he stared into your eyes with his, brilliant blue and full of emotion, “I love you.”

The words resonated and even you couldn’t deny what he was saying. He wasn’t looking at you like a friend or a brother or anything but a man who was deeply in love and trying desperately to communicate it to the person he loved.

“But…” you began, and then bit your lip as you worried how to phrase it.

“What?” he asked, tenderly brushing away a tear.

“I’m not… you usually… I’ve… I’ve seen the women you’re with,” you began.

He nodded and waiting for you to continue.

“They are all very lovely and all very similarly bodied. That is, they’re, well, oh for god’s sake – they’re thin, Jaskier. You’re always surrounded by lovely, slender ladies and I am-”

“Lovely,” he finished the sentence for you.

“And plump,” you said pointedly.

“And plump,” he echoed, “Lovely and plump and talented and caring.”

“I just don’t want you to love me in spite of it,” you said, an old wound aching at the thought that he was listing the things that made your body an acceptable compromise.

He frowned and then before you could try and explain further he pulled you in for a kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours. His arms surrounded you and you pressed closer into the kiss. He pulled back and began to pepper your jaw with kisses, moving down to the slope of flesh beneath your chin and back up to your lips.

“I don’t love you in spite of anything. I love you for everything that you are, no exceptions, no alterations. Every inch, every ounce, every day. If you’ll have me,” he said, realizing you hadn’t actually said the words to him yet. You smiled and felt a weight you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying begin to lift off your heart.

“I love you,” you said. Jaskier’s face broke into a smile you knew you would never capture on paper but would spend the rest of your life trying to recreate.

Being Jaskier’s best friend was glorious.

Because Jaskier’s beloved is beyond words.

[foramomentonly]

@spaceskam So, your Jealous Michael stream of consciousness fic was so good it inspired me. And then I got angsty. I humbly dedicate this to you since basically I’m just copying your brilliant style.

 If you are reading this and don’t know what I’m talking about do yourself a favor.

It’s not that Michael doesn’t like this new guy Forrest, per se. He doesn’t, but personal incompatibility is not the biggest issue. He’s not trying to be best friends with the guy. He just wants to go twenty minutes in his own damn town without seeing him. Is that really too freaking much to ask? And maybe also to not constantly find him hanging around Alex like a puppy on an invisible leash.

First, it’s Bean Me Up, where Michael stops in one early morning to pick up coffee and pastries with which to woo a justifiably still frosty Maria. There’s Alex, dressed for a run, nursing what Michael can only guess is a black coffee. And he’s with someone. Someone familiar. Someone with a really bad dye job and a very stupid cardigan. Seriously, this is small-town New Mexico, a place full of unironic cowboy hats, functional boots, and ugly plaid and turquoise everything. The only individuals with a real sense of style are Maria, with her boho patterns and bright colors and flowy pieces, and more recently Alex, with his military-fashion boots and dark, tapered jeans and that fucking leather jacket. At least he’s not wearing the jacket. But all this to say you can’t just throw on a dull, shapeless cardigan and dig up some boxed hair dye from Alex’s high school medicine cabinet and call it a look. But Alex doesn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t seemed to mind at the ranch when they first meet Forrest, either. When Forrest was two steps from getting on his knees if Alex so much as asked to borrow a pen and Alex pretended not to notice and Michael glowered at them both. And now Alex is smiling at something Forrest says and raising a perfect brow, and when he catches Michael’s eye he doesn’t hold his gaze. Michael grabs his order and stalks off, and of course, it’s Forrest who runs out to tell him he forgot to pay.

***

Bean Me Up is just the first time. A few weeks later he’s finishing up at the lab with Liz and Kyle, and Isobel is hanging around because she’s not working right now and she doesn’t have much else to do.

“All right,” Kyle says, “if we’re done, I’ve got to head out. I’m meeting Alex at the high school track.”

“What for?” Isobel asks.

“Cardio,” Kyle beams, and Michael rolls his eyes. Who gets that excited about a hamster wheel for adults?

“Can I join?” Isobel asks, and, oh right. Isobel does these days.

Kyle says, “…yes?” uncertainly and Isobel flutters her eyelashes at him like good answer. Liz announces she’s coming to “the ab parade” too, and Michael wonders if she’s been sampling her drawer wine already. But the whole gang is game, so he is, too. He’s a joiner.

They get to the track and Alex is stretching idly in one of those sporty bro get-ups—shorts, athletic shoes, and the tee-shirt that’s been cut into an extremely baggy tank top that has more functionality as a wind tunnel than actual clothing. He looks relaxed and tan, and he has a prosthetic Michael hasn’t seen before; he guesses it’s specifically for athletics. He’s objectively admiring the view when Alex grins at someone to his left and Michael looks over and it’s fucking Forrest in a college tee-shirt and a fucking sweatband. He points to their group and Alex turns, smiling uncertainly.

“Do we have an audience?” he asks.

“Isobel asked to join us. I don’t know what these two are doing,” Kyle explains, holding his hand out to Forrest like it’s the most natural thing in the world for Alex to have company that isn’t one of them or dressed in army fatigues and letting him order them around. “Good to see you again, man. You running with us?”

Forrest grips Kyle’s hand, and these two fuckers would be BFFs.

“Yeah, if it’s cool with you,” he says, “I’ve been meaning to get more active-”

“Been pretty active lately,” Alex murmurs, smirking, and Michael literally gags. Alex shoots him a dark look.

“-and Alex suggested a run would be a good place to start.”

Kyle is spouting off fitness theories or whatever to Forrest and Isobel, and Liz wanders toward the bleachers, leaving Alex and Michael effectively alone.

“You got a problem, Guerin?” Alex asks, tone forced casual.

“You pick up a boyfriend since I saw you last, private?” he replies.

Alex, little shit that he is, has the audacity to laugh.

“No,” he says, “but I’ll be sure to update my Facebook status for you the second I do.” 

***

That’s the thing, too. Alex won’t admit he’s dating this tragic librarian loser. He doesn’t say anything to anyone. He brings F-word to The Pony where they sit on stools at the bar facing each other and practically fellating their bottlenecks from what Michael can tell from over the pool table, where he’s pretending to line up a shot; Alex has apparently introduced him to all their friends and Arturo, if their biweekly lunches at the Crashdown are any indication; and they text non-stop, Alex’s phone constantly buzzing in the pocket of his fatigues or the cupholder of the Jeep where he stores it while driving them to the library or the Project Shephard bunker, or dropping Michael off at the Airstream. 

“Want me to check that for you?” Michael asks when it buzzes three times in a row during a food run for what they now call the Secret Science Lab, thanks to Cam’s big mouth and Liz’s continuing mortification.

“No,” Alex says easily, “it’s Forrest. It’s unrelated.”

“Could be an emergency,” Michael goads, “what if he needs you to help him touch up his roots? ”

Alex glares.

“Spoiler alert: He needs you to help him touch up his roots,” Michael says in an exaggerated whisper.

“You could be a little less subtle, you know,” Alex says.

“What?”

“This whole ‘jealous ex’ thing,” he says, jaw clenched. “It’s getting old.”

“We’re not exes,” Michael says, “we’re bros. And I’m just looking out for you. Bro.”

Alex rolls his eyes.

“Well, look somewhere else. I’m good.”

Michael grits his teeth, tries to forget that they once told each other I don’t look away and that Alex absolutely remembers.

***

It officially becomes too fucking much when Forrest is at his house. Not the actual guy, though that would be bad enough, but his junk. Michael drops off some documents for Alex one night and asks to use the bathroom. Alex shrugs and steps aside to let him pass. Alex likes a neat space; he grew up in a military household with his fucking psychopath of a father and old habits die hard or sometimes not at all. So Michael notices immediately when there is just stuff lying around. Some folders scattered across the low coffee table; a glass on the side table still dripping condensation onto the wood; an ugly Forrest green sweater draped over the back of a chair in the kitchen. These things are very much not Alex’s, but there they are strewn around Alex’s space like half of a What’s Different About These Two Images puzzle come to life. 

Michael scoffs and says, “You know if I find his toothbrush in there I’m gonna use it to clean the toilet?”

Alex stiffens and his knuckles go white around the handle of his crutch.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he hisses, and Michael realizes too late that Alex is carrying all the markings of a crappy day in the rigid set of his shoulders, the clench of his jaw, and the way he leans heavily on his crutch as though he’s too proud to admit he would rather be resting. But they’ve been dancing around this massive, electric blue elephant between them for too long, and Michael isn’t going to back down now. Not his style.

“Oh, just that you apparently have a live-in boyfriend you didn’t bother to tell anyone about,” he says, lifting his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “No big deal.”

“So what if I do? Where are you parking your Airstream these days, Guerin?”

Michael avoids the question by pointing at the glass still sweating on the table and asking, “Be honest, did he jump out the back window when I knocked?”

“Why would he?” Alex spits. “He belongs here. You don’t.”

They both pause, their anger deflating at his words that hit a little too close to the core of what they definitely are not actually arguing about.

“You can’t just bring someone into our lives like it’s nothing, Alex,” Michael says, switching tactics.

“I would never tell him anything,” Alex answers, taking a hesitant step forward. “You know that. I would never.”

I would never tell.

I never look away.

I loved you. For a long time.

Michael hates the past tense. But the present sucks pretty hard right now, too. 

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles and turns back toward the front door. “Think I’m just gonna hold it. Have a good night, Alex.”

“Guerin-”

“Tell Forrest I said hello.”

[tizravenkatthing]

Spellbucks

A/N: So.... I’ve put this off long enough I think and I guess I should’ve been writing but oh well. This round it’s time for some Prinxiety! As per usual, please enjoy and I encourage constructive criticism if you have any for me.

Trigger Warnings: NIL

Pairings: Prinxiety (Again, just for this chapter)

Taglist: @peach-cake-slice, @peachflavoredcupcake, @no-i-dont-have-a-gender

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

Spellbucks Cafe

Chapter 2: Storm’s a’brewin

A tinkle of the bell signaled a new customer had arrived to the little cafe. Patton was as bouncy as he always did, and he was delighted to receive the man who stepped through his doors.

“Roman, right? I’m glad you came back!” the bubbly manager exclaimed.

As Roman smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck, Virgil turned his head to look at Patton and the man he was addressing, his attention drawn away from his homework at Patton’s loud, bubbly voice. As the two spoke, Virgil studied the man who Patton was talking to. They seemed quite friendly, though, Virgil was quite sure he didn’t recognize the man, nor seem him around before.

The man had deep emerald eyes, tan skin and his chocolate brown hair was half dyed to gold. And strangely enough, the man had looked to the side, at him, while talking to Patton and immediately turned his gaze away with a blush when he noticed Virgil looking back. That was definitely odd, did he catch a cold or something?

Meanwhile, Roman was freaking out. Not just normal freaking out but ‘extremely-gay-and-I-saw-my-crush-looking-at-me’ freaking out. Alarm bells were ringing in his mind as he faked his best smile as he talked to the cheerful Patton. He hoped he didn’t look weird. Was his smile crooked?? His hair our of place??? Why was his emo crush staring at him?!!?!?? Despite all his worries, he manages to sit himself, at the same spot he sat at last time, and picked up the menu. He couldn’t stop his turmoil of emotions as he chanced a glance sideways to the emo. By the time he had sat, the emo had got back to work on his papers. Using that chance, he feigned reading the menu as he took in the sight of the skinnier man. 

His hair was dyed purple and he wore a jacket that looked a patchwork of black and checkered purple which was halfheartedly stitched together. The eye shadow the emo sported was extremely dark, matching the color of his ripped jeans. The whole look was what he would usually call edgy or dull but for the person he was looking at, it all came together perfectly. He didn’t notice Patton approaching him as he observed the emo’s sharp jawline, his soft-looking hair, his delicate fingers....

“Roman?”

“AAH!!” Roman shrieked and then quickly covered his mouth a second later, drawing the attention of every patron in the cafe.

Roman’s face flushed red as mutters ensued and he got strange looks. Turning to Patton, he barely remembered to compose himself. 

“P-patton, I’m sorry, I was just... L-lost in thought.” Roman stuttered and gave Patton a sheepish grin. 

Patton raised a brow a him and looked at him in concern, “You sure you’re alright, Roman?”

“Y-yes. Absolutely. Perfectly fine, why wouldn’t I be??” He sputtered and rambled on, oooh, dear lord he was doomed.

Patton kept his expression of concern but pushed past it, “Right.... So, are you ready to order?”

Oh, shoot. He was so busy admiring his crush that he forgot to look at the menu! Roman quickly flipped through the menu in front of him and randomly pointed out a drink and a snack.

“U-uh, could I have these please?” He asked, trying his best to play off his panic.

Patton looked at him weird and he knew he must’ve pointed out something wrong. 

“Uhm... Sure. One Chill Pill and one Super Sugar Cake, coming up.” Patton repeated the order and Roman nodded. 

What was with the look, the order sounded totally normal. He looked down and observed his choices, only then did he see what was wrong. The Super Sugar Cake was filled with an extreme amount of sugar and sweet treats that even Roman couldn’t handle. It was stated that it induced hyper-activeness due to the high levels of sugar and was recommended for either extreme sweet tooths or those needed a large energy boost. And Roman didn’t look like he needed either. He had a healthy glow like he had slept like a baby and didn’t look the type to be extremely sweet toothed.

He cursed a little and scratched his head, gosh darn it, how was he going to survive that sugar bomb of a snack?! Beside him, Virgil had observed Roman and snickered softly at his panicked look. It was clear how the man hadn’t thought it through. He wondered though, what caused the guy to be so distracted to even forget to look at the menu?

Roman had heard the snicker, and without a second thought, whipped around and looked at Virgil, firing off an annoyed retort.

“What’re you laughing at, Hot Topic?”

They both froze, Virgil from the shock of being called hot and Roman from the realization that he had just got annoyed at his crush. Roman panicked, scrambling for something to say, his mind a mess of words of things to say and not to say, but Virgil beat him to it.

“So.... You’re telling me I’m attractive?” Virgil asked, surprising Roman.

“Huh? Uhm........” Roman looked like a deer caught in headlights, not sure what to do but slowly processing his words to form a reply. “......... Yes?”

Virgil’s cheeks flared with heat, going red as he now felt flustered and Roman was just in awe at how cute his crush was. Roman was known as a hopeless romantic among his friends, often times he didn’t think before he acted and for the better or worse, he did just that.

“Speaking of you, Hot Topic, I don’t think I caught your name?”

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

What started as a pursuit became a playful game of cat and mouse after a week of seeing each other at the cafe and talking, Virgil wasn’t so sure about dating Roman just yet though he loved to tease him. A lot. Roman had blurted out that he wanted to date him on the first day they spoke and that was a little weird for Virgil. No one had confessed to him before. Of course, he didn’t tell Roman his name even if he knew Roman’s (Well, the man told him without hesitation so could you blame him?). He had then dared Roman to try to get him to love him back. Just to see how far he’d go, and oh, try he did.

The second second was filled with roses and flirting, with Virgil deflecting and even putting down his attempts to get his number or his name. The third day, Roman had tried serenading Virgil with a song he had written and even more attempts at flirting. Obviously, Virgil deflected but decided that he would tease Roman, to try to get him to stop. The fourth, till seventh day, it was like a game between them. Roman would try to woo him and then he would then deflect it with teasing to try to make brunet blush or stutter, effectively halting the flirting and embarrassing comments for a time.

And by the seventh day, somehow he had quietly admitted to himself that, alright. Roman was adorable and also undeniably handsome. Like, did you see those dimples? And this gorgeous hair? His smile was somehow so cute?? And than his expressions, he loved it when he managed to make Roman blush, or annoyed. He didn’t want to admit defeat yet though, he wanted to keep playing their little game, buy himself time to think it through.

A tinkle of the bell and Virgil looked up to see who it was, the sight of the man he was thinking walking through the door making him smile. When Roman got close enough he leaned on his palm to look at him.

“So, Princey, what will it be today? A dramatic stage play? A poem? Oh, maybe a ring?” he teased.

Oddly, Roman didn’t react and just seemed..... Distant. He laughed at the joke but it was so much different from before... Like he had.... Given up?

“Oh.... Well, sorry to disappoint but I’ve got nothing today.” he said, looking away.

What was going on?? Did he hit his head or something? Virgil was almost scared to ask, scared he did something wrong to upset Roman. He leaned forward and looked Roman in the eye.

“Ro.. You alright? You’re not usually.... Like this.”

Roman just smiled and shrugged, quietly sitting in his seat and calling on Patton to order. They didn’t talk much, and it bothered Virgil. More than it should have. He spoke and tried to get Roman to talk but Roman only gave him short, almost curt, answers. He felt...... Weird. It hurt to see Roman like this. So..... Unlike the man he knew before. It was so strange, it was so odd, he didn’t know why but he felt deeply bothered. While Roman was looking off somewhere, distantly, he gripped his rippled purple shirt, near his heart. Something clenched at his heart but he didn’t know what feeling that was.

When Roman stood, Virgil was quick to catch him by the hand, somehow scared. “W-where.... Uh.... Where are you going...?” he asked, hesitant and at the same time confused. Why would he ask him that??!?!?

Roman just looked at him with the weirdest look, “To meet my partner...?” he said.

And Virgil was shaken, he flinched back and Roman just gave him one last look before walking towards the door. Virgil stared at the spot where Roman was sitting, a tight feeling in his chest. 

He had a... Partner?

What did that mean? A co-worker? A lover? A boyfriend? A girlfriend? Then what about him?? Was he just leading him on?!!?? He was consumed by rage and pushed his chair back, storming out of the cafe and ignoring the worried look Patton had. He slammed the door open and his eyes searched the street, quickly catching sight of his target across the street. He was walking, walking towards another man. A man. He saw red.

He dashed across the street, uncaring for all the stupid cars and trucks and traffic in his way. he paid no attention to the horns, he just dashed across the road like a mad bull. The man Roman was talking too looked terrified, pointing behind him and Roman turned his head to look. Virgil saw the fear in his eyes but it didn’t matter. He grabbed Roman by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?!?? AM I SOME KIND OF PLAY THING TO YOU???? SOME BOY TOY?!?? YOU LEAD ME ON AND NOW YOU ACT LIKE I’M SOME PEBBLE ON THE ROAD SIDE?!!?!??? HOW DARE YOU YOU SON OF A B-” He was cut off by a sudden wave of sadness that hit him like a tidal wave. 

Choking back a sob didn’t work for as long as he thought he could manage. He didn’t care, it hurt. It hurt so much...... Was this what it was like to love someone? The thought struck him and he quietly mulled it over as he cried. That.... That was it, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to admit that he fell so soon, he didn’t want to be some easy target. Hell, he rejected Roman’s dinner requests a hundred times by now because he didn’t know how he felt.......

So. This was love, huh.

He slid down and fell to his knees, his jacket having had slide down his shoulders and exposing how much he trembled. He was angry, and now he was sad... Sad and disappointed in Roman for not trying longer. But more than that, disappointed and upset in himself for denying his emotions and not grabbing the chance sooner. He felt warm arms wrap around him and he was surprised to find Roman hugging him tightly. He felt so safe in his arms that he cried more, hiccuping and gripping onto Roman’s shirt tightly as he did. Was it wrong to do this right in front of his boyfriend? It probably was but Virgil couldn’t stop himself.

Roman slowly petted and stroked his head, comforting Virgil with hushed whispers and coos. It felt so nice and calming that Virgil just poured his eyes out, taking in every feeling he could in that moment. It took a while but he managed to recompose himself, destroyed eye shadow and red nose aside. He looked up at Roman and he found it odd that Roman was smiling from ear to ear.

“..... Why are you smiling like that?” he asked hesitantly.

Roman seemed to just realize how much he was smiling and blushed as he covered it up. “Well.... I mean, this is the first time I’ve seen you chase after me than I after you, storm cloud.”

He blinks. So it was. “But it still doesn’t explain your dumb look, you big dork.” he retorted and Roman just grinned. A twinkle in his eye.

“Well, considering you were mad enough that you came after me.... Could I assume you feel the same way that I feel about you?”

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then once it registered he just flushed from head to toe and quickly covered his face with his hoodie, pulling the strings tight so the hoodie closed. “Y-you... Jerk!”

Roman just laughed as he shook his head, trying to coax him out from his jacket as he lifted him up, drawing a squeak of surprise from the emo.

“That wasn’t a no.” He said cheekily.

And Virgil was quiet for a few seconds, before responding. “It wasn’t. But.. What about your ‘partner’?”

Roman blinked and looked over to the intellect, the man next to him who had been silently observing the entire time just raising a brow. Looking back at Virgil, Roman grinned. 

“Yeah, he’s my partner. Partner in crime that is.” Roman said with a smile of triumph.

“.... Say what now?” 

Virgil was dumbfounded, but his expression turned into one of a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as he found himself carried back to the cafe by none other than Roman as he explained how he had confided in Logan, the intellect who Roman had walked up to, who also happened to be his friend by chance and another one of the cafe’s regulars, and had then hatched a plan to uncover Virgil’s feelings with Logan’s advice.

Virgil found himself utterly and undeniably exposed and defeated, pouting and sulking while Roman tried his best to comfort and get him to stop. Arriving back at his seat, Roman put Virgil down and grinned as the emo looked at him in annoyance. That, to Roman at least, was the most adorable thing. Alas, he needed to leave as he needed to attend to other matters for the day.

“So... I guess I’ll see you around next time?” Roman asked, a bit afraid his crush would go back to treating him how he used to. 

There was silence for a while as Virgil stared at him with his beautiful black eyes. His lovely voice then snapped Roman out of his daze and confused him. 

“Virgil.”

“What?”

The emo sighed, “My name is Virgil. Virgil Tempest. And you owe me dinner.”

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

Prologue, Ch 1 - [Next]

[oohfluffy]

DDND Ep. | KJI

Group: EXO

Member: Kim Jongin

Theme: Fluff | Dancer!AU | Dormmmate!AU

Word Count: 3,148

❁ Epilogue: With You ❁

After 4 years...

"Hmm..."

You whined as the warmth from behind you left you in the cold.

"Yeobo..." You mumbled quietly, turning to him.

"Shh. Just go back to sleep, I'll cook breakfast. You've been overworking yourself lately. Let me serve you, baby."

You smiled sleepily as Kai gently kissed your forehead before completely getting up from the bed. As you heard the door closed, you got back in your dreamland instantly.

"Breakfast's here."

You lazily opened your eyes, getting blessed by the wonderful sight before you. You giggled as you observed Kai's outfit.

"Why are you wearing an apron without anything underneath besides your boxers? Are you seducing me, you devil?" You laughed as you pointed at him, all your sleepiness got thrown outside the window. Kai smirked at you, putting the bed tray on top of your legs after you've sat up straight.

"You like it, babe?"

"No. Go and put some clothes on. It's cold."

Kai pouted, sitting down beside you as he grabbed his plain white t-shirt hanging on the headboard of the bed, wearing it as you've commanded.

He's such a submissive husband to you.

Not at night though, if you know what I mean.

"You're cold, yeobo." He mumbled as you picked up the chopsticks on the side of the bowl. Kai cooked bibimbap, making you slightly giggle at the heart-shaped egg on the center.

"Thanks for the meal, Kai." You smiled at him, making his pout turn into a grin. He leaned towards you for a good morning kiss when you put a spoonful of rice in your mouth. You chewed slowly, winking at him as he poked your cheek.

"I'll get back at you, yeobo." Kai murmured, smiling as he watched you happily gulp down his cooking.

In the middle of your conversation with your husband—

Yes, Kim Jongin is now your husband.

It's been a year since your unforgettable marriage with this guy. After 3 years of studying to become a professional Pediatrician in Singapore, when you got back in Seoul, you got married to this devil dancer. Kai patiently waited for you as you've told him to, preparing the plans in making his own school. Soohyun, his older brother, got back before you two went to Singapore before, going back to being the President of the company as the heir.

Currently, Kai has started the building of his own Performing Arts School a year and a half ago, where talented students can hone their skills efficiently and effectively in the future, with the help of his friend, Engineer Park. The building's almost finished, maybe by the end of the month, it'll be complete already. It's not that small nor too big, it's simple but elegant-looking on its exterior, but when you get inside, you'll feel at home and comfortable, just as Kai wanted it to be. After your marriage, you two lived in a simple house in Seoul, just large enough for you two and your future children.

In summary, everything's going well for the two of you.

You're still not pregnant though, if that's what you're thinking.

Your phone suddenly rang, making Kai frown as the familiar ringtone filled the room.

"Don't tell me—" Kai stopped speaking when you raised your hand at him and quickly picked up the call.

"Yes?"

"Doc, there's an emergency here about the patient from last week. Please come—"

"I'll be there in a moment."

You sighed as you quickly put the bed tray on the side.

"Please wash the dishes for me, baby. I've got to go back in the hospital." You caressed Kai's cheeks with a smile. "I'm sorry, I can't spend this weekend with you. I'll be back before dinner."

"That's fine. I know you've got your hands full and..." Kai looked away from you, getting the bed tray and standing up. "...just as long as you come home to me, I'm fine."

"I'll make it up to you soon, okay?" You said with a hopeful smile, Kai just hummed in reply as he got out of the room. You got worried about Kai, thinking that you're often abandoning him because of your non-stop working hours. You knew he kept this weekend free of his work, so he can spend his time with you, but here you are, instantly ruining the day the moment you woke up. Even though he's got so many things to do at work, he still manages to clear a few days for you.

You groaned as you ran inside the bathroom to prepare yourself for another hectic day.

"I'm going now, yeobo." You called out to Kai while wearing your flat shoes by the front door. Kai quickly ran towards you with a lunch box on his hand.

"Here, your lunch. Don't forget to eat, alright? I'll wait for you."

You brought your arms around his neck and pressed your lips on his, pouring your longing and passion in the kiss. Kai wrapped his arms on your waist, pulling you closer as he reciprocated your action, tilting his head to have a better angle to kiss you.

Ghad, he missed you so much.

"Come back home quickly, okay? I'll be a good boy here." Kai mumbled at your lips as he stared into your eyes after your heated kiss. You grinned, nodding as you pecked his lips one more time before pulling away.

"Yes. I'll be back with a treat then." You winked as you got the lunch box from his hand. His eyes twinkled as he heard the word treat, knowing that it'll be his favorite.

"I'll look forward to that, yeobo!"

"You should, my househusband." You giggled as you waved at him, watching as he whine at your nickname for him.

Even though you two just meet only in the morning and at night often when it's a weekday, your longing for each other's presence just gets stronger and it'll pay off as weekend comes. After all, your love for each other doesn't decrease just because you don't see each other often, it's just increases as time passes by.

I probably should do something for him.

♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫

"Dr. Kim! Are you okay?!"

As you heard your assistant pounded on the bathroom door of your office, you groaned. Your head throbbing as you leaned on the wall after vomiting on the toilet. Your stomach felt like it was squeezed, forcing out your breakfast this morning. You took a deep breath before slowly standing up, having the wall as your support. You glanced at your reflection on the mirror, your cheeks were red and your lips are slightly pale. You felt nauseous again.

Could it be?

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. I think I ate too much earlier." You said, nodding at yourself.

"Are you sure? You don't need anything, Doc?"

You thought for a moment, taking out your phone to check your calendar. You bit your lower lip as you saw what date today is, closing your eyes after.

It's been 3 months since your last period.

"Can you buy something for me?"

"Yes, anything, Dr. Kim."

Your cheeks were slightly blushing as you stare at the small object on your hand. You're currently sitting on the cover of the toilet bowl, waiting for the result of this pregnancy test. Your lips were slightly trembling in perturbation, feet continuously tapping on the white-tiled floor. Your eyes never left the object when two red lines appeared, in contrast to its white color.

"Oh my." Your eyes watered as you couldn't believe the result on your hand. "Oh ghad. Kai will be so happy." You grinned as tears fell down on your cheeks.

"Dr. Kim, are you finished?"

You quickly stood up from the bowl and opened the door with a smile on your face, startling Ji Eun, your assistant.

"I'm pregnant, Ji Eun-ah!" You hugged her tight like a teddy bear while giggling. She was shocked by your action but recovered immediately when she realized what you've just said.

"REALLY?! OMO! Congratulations, Dr. Kim!" Ji Eun squealed excitedly as she rubbed your back.

You pulled away from her, taking out your phone to call your husband.

"I'll just call Kai. I don't have any schedule this afternoon, right?"

"Yes, Dr. Kim. Your next schedule will be for Tuesday already." Ji Eun informed you with a smile.

"Thank goodness."

I can finally spend a lot of time with Kai.

You glanced at your stomach with a loving smile, gently caressing it.

"Looks like I have another baby to take care of."

Before going home, you stopped by at Kai's favorite place.

Chicken For You, where your chicken dreams come true.

Is what the banner in front of the place says, letting you remember Kai's expression when he first saw this place.

"This is where we'll have our wedding reception, babe. I'll rent this whole place out!"

You giggled at yourself as you pulled the door open.

"Welcome back, Mrs. Kim!" Aunt Ji Woo, the chicken place owner, greeted you with her bright smile. You waved at her giddily as you walked towards the counter. "How's Mr. Kim? I bet he asked for you to buy here again, huh?"

"No, actually it's my treat for him since I couldn't spend the whole day with him today. And we have news to celebrate about too, so I guess it's fine." You said as you ordered the usual. Aunt Ji Woo kept on chatting with you as her employee packed your order.

"Congratulations! After a year, I'll finally see a little Kim around!" Aunt Ji Woo exclaimed as you told her the news.

Little Kim...

You smiled at the thought.

Sounds nice.

"I'm home, yeobo."

You waited for the heavy footsteps as you stopped by the front door.

But only silence welcomed you home.

Your eyebrows knitted together, surprised that Kai isn't jumping into your arms at this moment.

"Baby?" You called out as you put your flat shoes on the rack. You walked past the living room, seeing it clean and empty. "Are you home?"

You put down the paper bag on the table before walking up the stairs to check if your husband was around. You opened your bedroom door but it's empty.

The sound of the shower from the bathroom made you sigh in relief.

He's home.

You placed your bag on the bed and was about to change your clothes when you thought of something. Your eyes went to the open bathroom door, lips tugging into a smile.

As you got out of your clothes, you grabbed your towel from the closet and silent went inside the bathroom.

You closed the door as quiet as possible before tiptoeing in the shower area after placing your towel on the counter. Kai's naked back becomes clearer as you got nearer the shower. You opened the glass door, making him turn around with a surprised face. You sheepishly smiled at him as you closed the door. Kai's eyes roamed around your body as his mind was processing the fact that you're in the shower with him.

"Didn't you miss—" You were cut off by Kai's embrace, trapping you in his arms protectively, completely making you wet from the water.

"You're back." Kai whispered, his hands gently squeezing your waist as he nuzzled on your neck.

"I'm back." You repeated, your hands playing with his wet hair. Kai sighed as he slightly pulled back, enough to see you.

"You're tired. Look at those eye bags, baby. Aigoo, my poor yeobo." He pouted as he kissed both of your eyes. You giggled at his actions, stopping him as you grabbed his face.

"Never mind that. I have news." You grinned at him, making him tilt his head in wonder but a smile was forming on his lips.

"What news made you this happy that you even entered the lion's den, hmm?" Kai mumbled as his nose nudges your wet neck, taking in your sweet scent. You closed your eyes as his lips made contact with your sensitive spot on your neck.

Focus, Lin. Tell him the fucking news before doing anything naughty!

"Hmm." You couldn't help but moan at the pleasant sensation Kai's making you feel. His lips collided with yours as his hands moved up to your stomach, massaging your sides gently with care.

You slightly pulled away, catching his eyes as you pushed back his hair. His eyes bore into yours, making you bite your lip.

"Kai," You started, getting a little distracted with his moving hands. "you're gonna be a father."

After a few seconds of staring at you with a blank face, his eyes started welling up.

Kai went from being daddy to being a baby.

You immediately hugged him, giggling as he tighten his embrace on you.

"R-Really? You're pregnant?" He stuttered, burying his face on the crook of your neck.

"I am!"

"Have you went to the doctor already? Do you need anything? Do you feel anything weird? Are you hungry right now? We can—"

"Kai." You laughed as you made him face you. "Stop panicking. We can go together at the hospital tomorrow. Let's spend the rest of this day happily, okay? Stop worrying too much."

Kai breathed out as he leaned his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. You gently squeezed the back of his neck as you kissed his nose lovingly.

"Okay then. Let's go tomorrow."

You pecked his lips with a smile, making him grin after.

"Chicken?"

"Chicken."

You're probably the happiest wife ever.

♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫

After 5 years...

"TAE OH!"

You groaned in annoyance as you finished tying your hair in a ponytail. You turned around to find only Kai, sitting on the bed with an innocent face as he buttoned his white polo.

"Where's that little boy?" You sternly asked as you glanced at the broken lipstick on your hand, only the end of it remained. Kai stifled a laugh as he saw you looking at the broken object on your hand.

"I think he hid already in a safe place away from you."

You glared at your husband's reply, putting down the object as you dusted your skirt.

"No time for this. We need to go, it's almost 11. We've got to hit the road." You said as you checked all the outlets, arranging the pillows and bed cover, before grabbing your bag. Kai stood up and gently pinched your cheeks.

"Stop frowning. Tae Oh probably just got interested with your lipstick—"

"Yeah and he ended up breaking it. It's from MAC!" You complained, letting Kai tug you out of the room.

"You have the whole collection of that, yeobo. He just broke one."

He locked the door before turning to you with a grin, glancing at your back.

"Oh, look who we have here."

You turned towards to where Kai was staring at and was shocked by the sight.

"Oh shit." You silently cursed as you heard Kai giggle behind you.

"Baby Tae, you look so messy now." Kai knelt down in front of your son, getting his handkerchief from his pocket. Your pink lipstick was all over the half of his face. "Help me here?" Kai looked at you with a smile. You sighed before quickly walking to the bathroom on the hallway, wetting the small towel from your bag, in case Tae Oh dirtied himself when eating later.

"Come here, baby boy." You softly called him, making him look at you with sparkling eyes.

"Eomma!" He cried as he ran towards you. You carefully went down, not fully sitting on the floor, gently grabbing your 5 year-old kid's face.

"Shh. Don't cry, eomma will clean your face now, okay? Stay still." You wiped the lipstick stains on his face as he kept quiet, staring at you until you finished cleaning his face up. "Let's go now. They're waiting for us."

Kai watched as you calmly interacted with your naughty son, he smiled at the beautiful scene unfolding before him.

"Yeobo." You called as you picked Tae Oh up, making him nuzzle on your neck. Kai stood up straight, grabbing your hand as he smiled at you. You smiled back because his smile was contagious.

"Let's go, my babies." Kai winked, leaning to kiss your cheek when you turned your head slightly, making his lips land on your lips instead. You smiled at the kiss.

"Eomma." Tae Oh cried as he pulled away from your neck and seeing you two kiss in front of him. "Appa bad!"

You laughed as Kai pouted at your son.

"Why is appa bad?"

"No kiss eomma!"

"Why can't I kiss eomma?"

"Eomma mine!"

Kai ruffled your son's hair with a grin.

"Eomma is ours then."

Your son got quiet at Kai's last words, obviously thinking about it. He slowly nodded in agreement before hiding his face on your neck again. You giggled as you watched the two argue.

"You enjoy being wanted, huh?"

You rolled your eyes at Kai as you sat on the passenger's seat with Tae Oh.

"Let's just go, Kai. They're probably gonna call us any minute now—"

"Here it is." Kai took out his ringing phone with a grin as he slowly got out from the driveway. "Yo, Sehun."

"Where the hell—"

"Words, Sehun-ah. Tae's here." You scolded your friend on the speaker.

"Oh fu—family. Sorry, hamstie."

"Didn't I tell you to stop using that nickname already?" Kai said, frowning as he drove.

"Whatever, overprotective and jealous husband. Anyway, where are you? Everyone's here already even Hunnie, your dog."

"You—"

"We just got in the highway, Sehun-ah. Kai and Tae Oh woke up late, so here we are." You answered as you knew Kai wouldn't stop arguing with his best friend.

"Okay, I'll tell that to your dad then. We'll wait for you! Be careful on your way here."

"Thank you, Sehun-ah."

"Bye, Lin-ah. Saranghae, mwah!"

Before your husband can violently react, Sehun, the brave man, hung up. Kai glared at his phone, harshly putting it down.

"You're so dead today, Oh—"

"Shush, Kai. Focus on driving."

Kai huffed in defeat.

"Fine."

You giggled at his actions, wrapping your arms around your son tighter.

With you, my devil dancer, I feel complete and I don't need anyone anymore.

Well, unless he wants a child again.

"Yah. What are you giggling about? What are you thinking? You're making me curious." Kai asked, glancing at you before looking back in front.

"I'm just thinking about how happy I am because I met you, my devil."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Kiss me then."

"Stop it, you're driving."

"You don't love me."

"Why would I even marry you if I don't?"

"I'll get more than a kiss later then."

"Yah!"

I've got nothing more to wish for.

— 끝 —

[hansoheeglobal]

English translation; Han Sohee interview on Dazed Korea May 2020 Issue (credit the scanned article goes to @cubfcoftee)

Usually, the more popular the drama is, the more viewers see the characters in the drama being reflected in reality. In that sense, do you realize the popularity of "Yeo Da-kyung" in "The World of The Married"?

Yes! (Laughs) These days, I've already been getting a lot of bad words from my acquaintances, regardless of family or friends. Two days ago, I got a message from a friend saying, "You're really bad."

How did you interpret Da-kyung as an actress?

When I read the script, I felt sorry for Da-kyung. A young woman in her early 20s abandoned her family, her gaze, and her pride, I wondered why she was doing this. In order to express the character, I had to understand Da-kyung enough, so I was worried about how to do. In my view, Da-kyung is a character who threw both body and mind in love with 'Tae-oh', so I decided to look at that part only. For 'Da-kyung', the keyword love is in front of a married man, and for people, the word married couple exists before love. I think this is the difference between Da-kyung in my view and Da-kyung that viewers see.

What's the point of the future story?

Tae-oh is cursing, and so far it's only the beginning? (laughs) Focus on Da-kyung and Sun-woo" relationship, but at the same time pay attention to the story of the people around them. Yes, as couples of different ages, such as Lim Je-hyuk, Hyun-seo, and In-gyu, get involved in the incident, the episode unfolds in an omnibus style. There will be a lot of things happening one day.

"I want to act a real love relationship this time, not a dramatic love. Stories that date their peers, resolve conflicts, and end happily. And I hope my character gets loved next time."

Da-kyung's fashion is also getting popular.

At first, I thought Dagyung should dress nicely because she is a rich-house daughter. Thinking about it again, I thought, "Yeo Da-kyung: The daughter of a rich family is the eye of the beholder, and Da-kyung's poem line is my house (=the rich house) that was born and grew naturally, so I don't need to shine like the daughter of a rich family for the first reason." Dakyung's fashion will all change with time.

Dagyung is a Pilates instructor.Do you actually enjoy pilates?

No, I don't have a lot of muscles, so I've been doing weight training. Before I started filming, I learned Pilates at the director's recommendation, and it was so different from the exercise I've been doing. Something similar is that it feels like holding up like a core exercise, a plank. I didn't think static exercise was right, but once I tried it, it was effective for Jasmine's orthodontics. I'm going to try to do it a little more.

What kind of character do you want to play?

Instead of dramatic love, I want to play a real love affair next time. It is a story about people of their age who date, solve conflicts with each other, and end happily. And next time, I want to be act as that character.

Is there anything else you'd like to challenge besides acting?

I used to study art. I want to learn more from my discharge because art is something that I have to be with in my life. But I don't think I can do art at the same time.You have to do one right before you can catch two rabbits. I think it's time to focus more on acting, and art is not light to me, so I want to study in France when I have time to turn my eyes to it.

I was surprised that your skin was so good while watching the monitor. Do you have any special methods?

Sleep? For me, sleep is better than exercise or diet. I'm going to sleep at least 7 hours. When I'm on the location, I'll sleep as soon as I get in the car. In fact, if you can't sleep, you get dark circles and pigments, and you'll be able to control your tired skin. I'm trying to make a habit of drinking water. I didn't even drink a cup of coffee.

Your hometown is Ulsan. I'm curious about the Seoul adaptation period.

I have a friend who is studying abroad, and when I came to Seoul, she was the only one I knew. My friend lives in Hongdae and I live in Gangnam, so I was always alone when I was eating or drinking coffee. The street is a little too far to see often. So I have been staying in the studio with my friend, not my house, ever since some time ago. And I got to know a lot of people through Arba Teu, and now I'm happy to have that kind of relationship.

Don't you usually use dialect?

Now I have free dialects and standard language, sometimes without even realizing it. There are times when they come. It's not a dialect, but it's a unique accent Haejun Sun Bae, who plays Taeoh, is from Gyeongsang-do, so he naturally speaks in dialect once or twice in the scene.

You must have tried hard to change your dialect while acting.

It was natural. Fortunately, I think the environment helped a lot. My grandmother is from Wonju. She doesn't speak in dialect at all, so I didn't speak in dialect when I was young. After coming up to the first page, I naturally adapted to it by making many friends in Seoul. I still use dialect when I meet my friends from Gyeongsang-do. Depending on who you talk to, it becomes similar to the other person's tone.

I heard you were popular with your friend when you were in school.

I'm an exaggeration. (laughs) I didn't have a commonly called "boyfriend." attend a girls' high school I transferred to an arts high school, so I didn't know what to do in a space with boy friends. If you've been to a girls' high school, you'll know how fun it is. Seven unique moods. I don't like extreme color and I'm interested in people, so I've been friends with O.J. I've received a few letters from my friends saying that I want to be close to them. I think it was misrepresented that I was popular among women. (laughs).

You're working as Han Sohee. What is Lee So-hee's personality like?

There is no boundary or difference between Han So-hee and Lee So-hee. It's still strange to call her Han So-hee. I like people. It's not like I listen to other people's stories and say, "Whoa!" I just like to sit face to face and watch.I thought, "How would a photographer like?" and "How would he like to be?" I tried to approach him as a person when I didn't do it when I was working.

You think a mind that likes and observes people will be the foundation for the job of an actor/actress.

That's right. Since the character is human, I think it's helpful to get to know many different sides of people naturally.

What do you usually do when you're alone?

I ride a bicycle because the weather is so nice these days. I can't go to the fitness center because of Corona 19, so instead, I ride my bike for a walk. I like to be active, but when I want to pick it up, I just stay at home for a week. There's something extreme about it, but it's all at home. Suddenly, I was like, "Oh! I can't be like this." If you think you need to move like a human being, you can go out alone.

When I saw at your Instagram, I thought, 'Han So-hee has her own taste like a woman in her twenties these days.' I'm curious about Han So-hee's daily life, hobbies and tastes.

I usually watch movies, especially French movies. I recently watched all of director Xavier Dolan's movies again. I like the feeling of seeing and listening to different cultures and languages. If you keep looking at the characters in the movie, you can feel their eyes, hands, and feet. In short, everyday fashion is manuscript! Among them, I like to wear dresses that have a vintage or retro vibe in the design that reveals the necline. I like styling that matches rough boots that contradict the feminine dress of flower pattern. I rarely dress up these days, so I only wear Crocs.(Laughing) I rarely put on basic makeup and apply it on my lips to add more vitality. My skin is thin enough to show veins, so I rarely do base makeup because the more I put on makeup, the more my skin gets damaged.

It's a cat named Butler?

It's my second brother. At first, I brought him with the thought of having a child, but now he's a sister who lives with Eun. His name is Marsh, and he's soft like a marshmallow. So I called him Marsh. He's like a real brother. He's good at opening doors. Jump and lower the lever grip and open the door. Sometimes when I get sick of cat toilets, I go into the bathroom and do my chores, and I'm often surprised at night. But he's a quiet kid who's never been bitten.

How was the photo shoot today?

Since I was filming a drama, I was stuck in Da-kyung for a while, but I felt like I was out of it today. It was a pictorial, so I knew I had to strike a chic pose, but it was fun because I was able to move freely, slanted and tilted. I like this better than the pose that you put on in a cool way.

Which pictorial would you like to take with Dazed for the second time?

I want to take pictures outdoors. with a languid feeling in the sun

So sorry there are a lot of mistranslation. I hope you all still get it.

[taste-in-music]

Reacting to Charli, baby!

If you were wondering why I hadn’t mentioned her in my last Music Monday post, this is why! I haven’t done one of these long album reaction posts in a long, long while, (not since Love + Fear, I believe,) and this is an album I’ve been hyped for, so I figured why not? I’ve heard a lot of the singles, but there are still many surprises to by had. Listen along to the album with me if you want, and without further ado, let’s ride.

Next Level Charli

I’m getting big “Vroom Vroom” vibes from this? 

I’ve got it. This song is like the inverse to “Vroom Vroom.” It’s got the same anthemic bombast to it from the vocal delivery and lyrics, but with a brighter sound. The synths are high and glistening rather than low and abrasive.

The lyrics are super sweet. Maybe a dedication to the fans?

All right Charli, I’m ready to go to the next level. 

Gone ft. Christine and the Queens

God this song still slams into the exosphere. The verses have so much taut tension to them with the bubbling synths and snappy drums, and then the chorus comes and hits you like a ton of bricks. 

Also can we talk about how relatable the lyrics are? This is one giant shoutout to everyone that’s an insecure and antisocial mess at any party or gathering. Thank you for making a song for our kind Charli.

Christine and the Queens’s voice has this amazing fluidity to it, it must be the French in her. (Also, when she sings in French during the bridge? DEAD.)

Still meh on the outro though.

Cross You Out ft. Sky Ferreira

We’ve got some more aggressive production on this song, which is cool. It contrasts nicely with the more lilting vocals. 

GIMME THOSE SKY FERREIRA CRUMBS. WHEN ARE WE GETTING MASOCHISM???!?! 

If you listen to the bridge with good headphones you can hear these really low backing vocals from Sky that rattle the nape of your neck, they’re amazing.

I do wish it was a bit more experimental though, it does stay fairly constant through the entirety of the song and makes it a bit of a bland listen. Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, though.     

1999 ft. Troye Sivan

Bop. Next.

Okay, I should actually say something about this, shouldn’t I?

I think it’s pretty cool that a song about 90s throwbacks actually does all it can to sound like it was plucked right out of the 90s. The production is bouncy, sparkly, and seamless, filled with glitching synths, sharp drums, and cute little ad-libs that make it a ton of fun. (That little “hee-hee” that Troye does after mentioning Michael Jackson? Art.)

I’m not usually into stuff that cashes into cheap nostalgia with little commentary as to why that nostalgia is wanted, (the main difference between me liking a song like “Ribs” by Lorde vs. “2002″ by Anne-Marie for example,) but whatever. This is catchy as heck. I love it.

Click ft. Kim Petras and Tommy Cash

Ooh, looks like we’re getting spooky here. This sounds very Turn Off The Lights and Pop 2.

We got a “woo-ah!” Kim Petras is here! 

I’ve never heard of Tommy Cash or listened to any of his music. I don’t know if his sound is quite for me, but maybe I’ll look into his solo work later. 

This isn’t a favorite of mine so far, (it’s far more avant garde than the other songs,) but I don’t know. I see it having its time and place, specifically when I want to feel like a bad bitch. 

Warm ft. HAIM

Those keys! Those gentle synths! Hearing this production with headphones on is heavenly. 

I never thought that Charli XCX and HAIM could work on a track together. HAIM is a very acoustic-driven band that takes inspiration from the past, and Charli always leans into more futuristic, synthetic ideas, but HAIM slip into Charli’s sound pretty well here. 

Overall, it’s not a standout, but I don’t dislike it. My consensus isn’t especially hot or cold, it’s WARM. 

I’m so sorry.

Thoughts

Well that intro brought me to attention very quickly. Am I in a Windows startup? 

Those high notes are the best part of the song. Charli’s got range! Her vocals sound really full and rich here, especially on the verses.  

Ironically, I don’t have many thoughts on this song overall.  

I’m so sorry.

Blame It On Your Love ft. Lizzo

I already know that I love this song. Let’s get to bopping!

Small detail but the snare drums on this song are great. 

This song has a drop that doesn’t suck, and I can’t stress how rare and refreshing that is. It sounds like a shot of caffeine, buzzy and colorful and not long enough. 

Can we all agree that Lizzo is a blessing unto this Earth? Charisma rolls off her in waves. I don’t think I’ve ever been so sad for a rap verse to end in a pop song. 

What an amazing song. 

White Mercedes

The vulnerability in the lyrics on this song matched the subtler production sounds great. 

Charli’s vocals sounds??? So good??? I don’t want this to come across the wrong way, but I never really listened to her music for her vocal prowess. Her strong suit always laid in delivering energy and an assertive presence, (like on “I Love It” or “Break The Rules.”) But this song shows just how downright lovely she can sound. 

This is stacking up to be one of my favorite non-singles on this album. What a wonderful surprise this turned out to be.  

Silver Cross

This is all right. I don’t have much to say on it. It’s got some interesting production elements and a solid vocal performance. It’s middle of the road.

In hindsight this maybe could’ve been cut. 

I Don’t Wanna Know

We’ve got a more moody, atmospheric sound for this song. The drums and synths have lots of echo to them, giving the mix a sense of space. It’s like Charli’s the singer in a smoky room from “Don’t Stop Believin.’”

While it’s nice that the album takes a break from the glittery pop hooks and bombastic party jams, I do think this is a tad dull. 

Official

I like those little punches of synth that make up the rhythm in the first verse.

OH MY GOD, the sparkling synths and tinkling keys on this track, they sound like flowers blooming and glimmering gemstones, that is GORGEOUS. 

The way that the production builds on this song by laying in the sounds one by one is really interesting. Some of the effect is lost by the way the backing track is frequently paused throughout the song, which is kind of annoying, but the idea is there, and it’s cool. I like it in theory. 

Shake It ft. Big Freedia, cupcakKe, and Pablo Vittar

I’ve heard a lot of good things about cupcakKe’s solo work and I know that she’s worked with Charli in the past, and I also know that Pablo Vittar and Charli made “Flash Pose” recently,” but  I haven’t heard any of the solo work from these guest features, so I have no clue what to expect.

Those water sounds and how they meld into glitchy techno noises and then breaths? The dual tracking that moves from ear to ear and the whispered vocals? Her mind? 

This is a wild ride with headphones on. 

Febrary 2017 ft. Clairo and Yaeji

I didn’t listen to this despite it being released as a single. I wanted to be a surprise for the album. 

Clairo’s low key voice works pretty well with the slithery vocal production that Charli often uses. I guess the glitchiness of Charli’s sound would compliment a bedroom pop artist. 

The way the production explodes! This sounds fantastic! Holy moly! It’s like diving into a cotton candy wonderland!

That switch up into Yaeji’s part is pretty jarring though. While I like the cooing, gentle vocals and minimal production, it upright clashes with the first half of the track. If it had been worked into the previous production rather than cutting away from it I think it might’ve worked better. 

This song comes across more as a mish-mash of ideas rather than a polished final product. I think maybe another draft could’ve improved it. Still, I do love the ideas it presents. 

2099 ft. Troye Sivan

That last song! My my my how 50 minutes have flown by.

That heartbeat at the start of the song! 

Okay this song is kind of all over the place. I don’t know if I have any definite thoughts on it. 

Still, if this is what music sounds like in 2099 I won’t necessarily be complaining. 

My Thoughts Summarized: This album feels like Charli half wanted to go avant-garde, half wanted to go mainstreen-friendly. This leads to a couple of confused moments, but also to some songs that meet those two options in the middle. While I feel like a few tracks could’ve been reworked or cut, I do like this project a lot. Charli really brought the bops and stepped it up with the vocals and lyrics. My favorite songs at the moment are probably “Gone,” “Blame It One Your Love,” and “White Mercedes.”

Can we talk about how gorgeous the visuals for this album have been, not only with the album art but with the music videos too? We had the badass prosthetics for “Blame It On Your Love,” the 90s throwback with “1999,” and Charli and Chris dancing on a car in the rain. I love it.

What did you think of Charli?  Agree or disagree? Comment or reblog with your thoughts, I’m excited to hear what you think.

[bladekindeyewear]

Boots Reads Homestuck Epilogue(s) Part 10 - Candy Part 1 again

I was told that finishing the epilogue MAY make me feel better by some with opinions, with some vague hints that the ridiculous start of Candy may have underlying reasons, so now that I’m awake again (though my stomach is roiling a bit again) I’m gonna take another crack at it.

Alright, so I was also hinted that this Candy part ends with a different cliffhanger, so maybe those two will cancel out?  That’s my hope anyway.

Reading page 1 again since I didn’t finish the very tail end of it... alright, so WHY IS ROXY CRYING again????  Was she just PRETENDING that she didn’t know it might turn out bad for John if he went at the end of the last one?  Was there some weird mind-rewriting going on?  Is the crying a symptom of this whole thing potentially being an our!Callie fanfic and she knows what’s being dodged??  Don’t know.

Alright, let’s have him save Gamzee and... is Vriska going to get saved in this version?  Or is that descent into the black hole without seeing what happens her well-deserved comeuppance while only the ghost version of Vriska truly figured out how to be happy?

==>

Dirk acknowledges him when he zaps back, but it’s YOUNG Dirk so hopefully there isn’t any stupid Meat stuff going on.

...Yeah, Gamzee immediately being repentant is weird as shit.  Maybe he Chucklevoodoo’d Callie into escaping him into this whole candied mess so he could start shit, I dunno.  That or this isn’t really Gamzee or someone’s manipulating him or etc etc etc.  The hint I got earlier was that if I thought Calliope wanting to bring Gamzee back and everyone just rolling with it was a little out of character, there are “reasons”, so I’m just going through all of this under the assumption that some emotion-manipulating weirdness is going on regardless.

Oh shit, Gamzee’s going to start recounting his character reasons for doing bad stuff in a surface-hope of justification and understanding.  All the characters immediately recognize how painfully groanworthy this is going to be.

GAMZEE: AnD sUcH iS wHy I’m GrAbBiNg HoLd Of My RePeNtAnCe As FiRm AnD sErIoUs As I wOuLd A wHoRe’S tItTy!

Yeah, that really encapsulates how “serious” all of this is.  And of course, John’s not having any of it.

Yeah, Terezi wouldn’t have any of it either, remotely.

Something feels different, but he can’t put his finger on it.

Hm.  The aforementioned manipulation-weirdness?

==>

Okay, so it’s kind of Dirk who notices something different and is cancelling his stupid villain plans, got it.

Volatility of causality, huh?

(I’m going to be going through these parts a little faster than the Meat section, unsurprisingly.)

==>

Okay, Rose and Kanaya, are we gonna cure her substance abuse or--

With all the distance between them lately,

God damnit, have Dirk’s manipulations extended that far OFFSCREEN or is this legitimate character distancing???? Because either is BAD.  >:(

Right, now that the plot and “relevance” has been sidelined over to a different timeline, Rose can now breathe easy free of her condition.  And whichever parts of her condition were, perhaps, IMPOSED on her.  Fuck.

I’m going to try my fucking best to cling to this, hope I can carry on a memory after this is over that DOESN’T imagine Rose trapped in a fucking existential dying villain coma with a hard fucking cutoff that promises nothing is ever coming to resolve it ever.  (Or Jade in a somewhat-similar sidelined situation, or Jane doomed to fuck herself over and everyone else too, or...)

What’s slipping away instead is the feeling that any of it mattered at all. Was she insane to be so consumed by such lofty concerns, and is she only beginning to experience clarity today, for the first time in ages?

Yeah, you’re no longer in a timeline of Light and relevance.  And that’s not so bad, which is something you never expected to be true given your derision of the concept.  Void is pretty goddamn alright.

--Oh right, the illness and substance abuse probably caused plenty of distance between them.

KANAYA: There Was A Feeling I Couldnt Shake That Something Terrible Was Going To Happen To Us KANAYA: Something That Neither Of Us Could Stop KANAYA: A Powerful Outside Force That Would Take You Away From Me KANAYA: And I Couldnt Stop Myself From Thinking That Maybe KANAYA: Maybe That It Would Be For The Best ROSE: Kanaya... KANAYA: I Can Now See That This Is Completely Ridiculous

For some reason, this doesn’t settle my stomach much?  It’s clear Andrew wove this in here so that if you read Meat first, you’d be able to acknowledge readily how this diverged in a way the characters kind of recognize, and... I’m not sure what I’m even saying.  It’s like there’s hope that this is TRYING to take the bad taste out of my mouth, but I don’t believe it overly much.

ROSE: What a relief, considering that we are both going to be young and magically fit literally forever.

Wait, so they DID find a way to extend their non-ascended friends’ lifespans to practical immortality?  Jane’s Life powers?  Something else?

==>

yay jade.  more extended dave metaphors.  calm down stomach.

JADE: i never thought id be thinking of you as my weird nerd friend by the time we were in our twenties

Heheheh.

DAVE: yeah well i never thought youd be like the premiere woo girl on the planet

Had to look up what a “woo girl” was.

Yes Jade go flirt them to death

What she’s planning isn’t a seduction. It’s a public service.

Pff

(And yeah, she’s being pushy but at least she doesn’t go DIRK FAR about it.)

DAVE: its incredible hes driven at least ten people off the site by creating thinly veiled parody accounts of their usernames

Oh my gosh, Karkat’s good enough to ANDREW HUSSIE them?!???  :D

That’s incredible.

Karkat knows damned well what a husband is. He’s been force-fed enough bad movies from Dave to pick up any human euphemism you could name. He still plays dumb sometimes, for comedic effect, to irritate his friends, or simply to avoid a topic of conversation altogether.

Yeah, it was always pretty clear that about HALF of the trolls pretended not to understand something human that they knew about just for comedic effect and they knew it.  :)

It would be pretty easy to mistake his reaction for arousal, so it’s understandable that Jade is extremely surprised when Karkat snaps his jaw shut and chomps down on her hand.

PFFFFHahahahah :D

And yep, Jane cancelled her run at Dirk’s direction.

DAVE: lets all just thank whichever christ was responsible for making whatever decision resulted in her deciding not to do that

*nod nod*

JADE: well i hope she gets a better hobby JADE: there are a lot of less ominous things she could do with her time KARKAT: WHAT, LIKE FUCKING HER WAY THROUGH HALF THE POPULATION OF EARTH C?

Jade pinches his ear and twists hard, smiling pleasantly.

JADE: get fucked karkat

Yeah, this is about the level of violence/threat I’d expect from Jade when anyone slut-shames her for perfectly acceptable behavior.

==>

There is almost no crime on Earth C, and so almost no one locks their door.

Huh.  I guess post-scarcity might do that.

Alright, we get to see Jane being less of a fuckass.

Dirk was the one person on Earth C who took the state of the locksmith industry with the seriousness it deserved.

Pffff

JAKE: Thats my theory at least. Maybe its tommyrot but i have faith that dirk will be back. After all where is he going to go?

Good question that wasn’t answered in Meat, so of course Jake says it here obliviously.

JAKE: I must admit i am rather half rats at the moment. JANE: You’re what? JAKE: Haha sorry that was a pretty obtuse way of putting it wasnt it. JAKE: What i mean to say is that ive been powdering my hair quite a bit today.

Andrew is SO good at making Jake sound completely incomprehensible.

...Ouch, Jane, don’t drink so hard! D:

The “morbs”??

JAKE: Dirk has that manner about him does he not? JAKE: A way about him that makes you feel like whatever you do as long as it does not involve him it doesnt count for dick.

Yeah, fuck Dirk.

Hm... is the absence of relevance affecting them, or some other manipulation? It’s not just the LACK of Dirk’s manipulation.

JAKE: Except of course for that time when you were under mind control and had me trussed up in your lair as you pontificated villainously about using me as a breeding stud to create a blood lineage for your incumbent corporate space empire.

A fate Dirk seems to agree with, judging by Meat.  Let’s sidestep that fucking entirely, thank you.

...yeah, I didn’t expect Jake’s response to be any less oblivious than exactly that.

==>

So why DID Callie bring Gamzee back, anyway?  Is there some secret use for him in mind?  Was she manipulated into it?  Maybe BY Gamzee?  Hm.

...alright, priestly with followings.  That ain’t good.  Is he aiming for Clown President MK2?

Everything Callie and Roxy have done and said in this Candy section so far seems creepily contrived, possibly by design.

...okay did they have some kind of weird agreement? Like, “okay John is gonna make his choice, and if he chooses to stay i try dating him instead of you, Callie”???  That’s... no that can’t be it.  Roxy’s NEVER acted THIS oblivious before.  What’s she playing at?

GAMZEE: mY fUcKiN *gUy*. :o) JOHN: ... GAMZEE: My DuDe AnD mY nInJa AlIkE. GAMZEE: mY *hOrN* dOoOoG. JOHN: ... GAMZEE: mY hOrN tO tHa MoThErFuCkIn DoG. ;o) JOHN: waiter! help!

I’m imagining Gamzee now as a sweaty and homeless, unkempt Guy Fieri.

Yeah, this doesn’t look like it’ll be fun.

==>

...Swifer Eggmop.  ¬_¬”

There’s a third member of their social group who definitely hasn’t arrived at the conclusion that his power and influence should be meted out responsibly either. Neither of them speak his name, however. For some reason, it feels like a shadow passing over the sun. A brief spike of pain flickers through Rose’s head, a bolt that strikes between her eyes and splinters out. There is color and light behind it. A vision that tears through the material reality in front of her and gives her a brief glimpse into a parallel reality where things are very different.

Yeah, fuck Dirk.

...Pff. Yeah, Rose WOULD mimic the record-scratch gesture.

Don’t invoke “never seeing Vriska again” like that, you’re really tempting fate.

Heh, Rose is finding some Light in the darkness, wanting to do something that’s meaningful on an expressive level with this Vriskgrub business.

Hm... why is my stomach a little less uneasy?

I sure hope it stays that way.

==>

KARKAT: OH MY GOD, ARE THE MECHANICAL GLUTES ON THAT BILLBOARD ACTUALLY PADDED WITH PLUSH TO MAKE THEM MORE LIFELIKE?

Heck Yes

...Yes, touch the butt, Karkat.

Jade, pouting a bit, glides in between them and uses her Space powers to teleport Dave’s phone out from the center of his traumatized palm and into the pocket of her sweater.

Hm!  So she still has teleportation abilities over a limited range even without her Green Sun boost, that’s nice.  :D

After all, where would these two pitiful beta boys be without her?

Oh my fucking god stop being Dirk, Jade.  And never use that narrative language again, even in your head.  Heck, even if Dirk’s the one WRITING this still, don’t even think CLOSE enough to think those words.

...yeah this sounds like an Active player class taking things slightly too far.

Thank you, Karkat, for drawing the consent-line in the sand.  Looks like Jade’s backing off a little.

--hold on, wait, Dave kissed him? He did, so why is-- let me read back up--

Dave doesn’t answer. She answers for him by leaning down and planting a dry, affectionate kiss on Karkat’s cheek.

Okay I misread this line earlier.  Jade kissed Karkat when neither of them were looking and is BLAMING Dave.  Hmm.

Alright, Dave ollies outie.  Karkat tumbles down some hillstairs.

Jade could probably catch him. Actually, she could easily do it, but it doesn’t seem like the kind of favor you should do in a fledgling kismesissitude.

Thaaaat’s a little presumptuous??

JADE: well i guess im eating grub spaghetti alone JADE: *again*!!!

:C

I’d be sadder if you didn’t bring it down hard upon yourself but

:C

==>

Yeah, John, better clear up this Callie business because it’s muddy as heck why Roxy would just drop everything to try things out with you.

Ah, we’re bringing up the gender identity thing on this side too, hm?

More serious talk, this is good, reading reading...

The glasses clink together clumsily, and water gets all over the complimentary breadsticks.

Oh no.  This had better not be Olive Garden.

ROXY: no one else has ever made me feel like this

--not Calliope???

What the heck is even going on.

Dave’s coming for some bro help it looks like.

==>

It’s hilarious how much Dave is freaking out about this, and how completely in-character it is.

JOHN: holy fucking shit. JOHN: there’s a gay snooze button? DAVE: yeah man theres a gay snooze button JOHN: wow.

I love these two’s conversations

......wait, Dave’s been holding off on kissing Karkat because of what he thinks JADE might think???? D:

JOHN: i almost managed to forget that she was trying to fuck you and karkat.

Pfffffffff  :D

Yep.  I love it being put so bluntly.

Reading on... yeah, for some reason I also always figured that the end result of a nice three-way relationship between those three people would be Jade and Dave essentially both just glomming onto Karkat more than each other?  Hm.

JOHN: i mean... it doesn’t sound... JOHN: *canon*?

...I hope you’re just talking about his coin flip explanation and not DaveKatJade.  >:(

John wonders when talking to Dirk has fixed anything for anyone.

Nod nod.

She grins up at John with shimmering, adoring eyes. They’re reflecting every star in the sky, all for him.

Seriously, what the hell.  Is Roxy hypnotized?  Putting on an act?  A voidy act??

I’m not doubting that Roxy COULD feel that way about John, I’m doubting the suddenness and the way Calliope is being deliberately ignored in the situation, which is so goddamn obvious that JOHN is uncomfortable about it.  There’s something seriously strange going on.

It itches at the back of his head, the idea that he might have just fucked up Dave’s entire life.

D:

Alright next post after a bit of breakfast.

[yoshimickster]

RWBY Volume 6 Episode “Alone in the Woods” Micksterecap-THINGS HAPPEN FINALLY!

Hey everybody hoping you had a good week, mine’s had some bumps but I’m still dancin’ so WHATEVS-lets get to Micksterecap!

OUR EPISODE STARTS OUT-

-with Ruby thinking about reenacting her favorite scene from “An American Tail”, moon and everything-BUT-

2:05 -CAN’T due to Bumblebee angst. Look at Weiss in the middle there, no WAY she doesn’t know she’ a buffer between the two of them. Girl just wants to be warm, why does she also have to be in between passive aggressive romance drama?

Its sad times like this when a girl JUST needs a stable adult to talk to, so she GOES to Qrow-

-aaaaaaaaaaand he’s drinking...super. Way to keep it together, one of only 2 stable adults. He then tells her that he’s okay and that he’ll wake everyone up in the morning because he’s the STABLE adult he is!

A CUT TO-Maria telling Oscar about the late man of the house Bartleby, and how the farming community was going through a BIT of tough times, which I’m SURE he didn’t try to solve by using the dark arts...so sure.

Ruby than tells everyone they gotta go to sleep as they gotta get out of this rejected Evil Dead setting ASAP, which I’m sure Qrow will DEFINITELY be awake to wake up everbod-

4:13 Oooooooooooooooooooooh Qrooooooooooooooow...you got a problem man. That’s an ENTIRELY different bottle of booze. AND-just when you think his drinking problem couldn’t be even MORE of a problem-

-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH she woke up before him and saw him in this state. We’re getting real here folks, we’re tackling alcoholism, WE’RE DOING IT FOLKS!

In a FIT of anger-

-Ruby SMASHES that shit-

-WAKING-his drunk ass up-

-making him INSTANTLY realize he broke a promise due to his drinking...we are getting DANGEROUSLY close to very special episode territory here folks.

Ruby than gives him a sweet hug telling him he could talk to her and Yang about stuff, but like many people with a problem Qrow brushes it off...uuuuuuuuuuuuuh...HAMMERS! Sorry...trying to make a joke here but its just...SUCH an angst fest!

5:36 Everyone else is awake, hell Weiss even welded a hitchemup to Bumblebee(the bike not the ship) with her dust magic so the cart will attach to it! When Weiss learned welding I do NOT know but I’m glad she did!

EITHER WAY everything goes out fine without ANY proble-

-aaaaaaaaaand Qrow’s Misfortune pops the tire (Ruby, HIDE THE BOOZE).

This single deflated tired sparks a chain reaction of mental anguish, where everyone is practically giving up on the mission, Yang even tells Ruby she should just throw the Jinn lamp down the well ALSO-

7:43 These three just...STARE at Ruby until she drops it in the well...like weird sleepy zombies. Ruby attempts to toss that sucker down the well-

-while ALSO sporting a sleepy zombie demeanor like everyone else which I’m SO SURE won’t mean anything later-BUT THEN-

“Hey kid...you like balloons?”

Ruby than drops the lamp, LOGICALLY freaks out about it ALL WHILE-

-these...three sleepy bitches don’t give a SHIT! If you can ‘t tell by now, some CLEAR devil magic is being had here.

Ruby somehow being the ONLY person to not be sleepified, gets her team to join her in getting the magical lamp that the bad guy wants that is STILL a freakin priority! And I’m sure Qrow, being a mature man of body and mind will FIGHT BACK the curse holding them-

Qrow: Everyone do whatever, I’m gonna drink away my feelings.

Ooooooooooooooh right, depression.

9:29 Team RWBY jumps down the well without receiving fall damage, in what is CLEARLY Killer Croc’s level in Batman Arkham Asylum. Get the Poison Ivy spores and then GET OUT OF THERE! The four than search for the lamp-ALL WHILE-

Maria continues to read Bartelby’s diary which I’m sure will have NOOOOOOOOOOOOO relevance at all...absolutely none.

After slightly more emo than usual Blake points out their scroll’s flashlights are useless when they’re looking for a glowing lamp of infinite glowing-

-BAM-they finds that shit, and I’m sure NOTHING bad will happen when they go look for it, not Salem’s crew, not White Fang-bangers, not nightmare Grimm that suck away your will to care about anything creating utter and total apath-

-ooooooooooooooh crap, RUN OLD WOMAN! RUN AND HELP THOSE FOUR TEENAGERS WHO AREN’T USED TO THE SOUL CRUSHING NOTHINGNESS!

OH SWEET JESUS-they’re all bendy and moaning, and GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! They even freak out Ruby-

-BUT thankfully-

-THAT was enough to wake them up from their case of the SERIOUS mondays. TERROR-the greatest alarm clock of all! Ruby THEN introduces them to the monsters of the week-

-DAMMIT-I wish I could get a better picture of how unsettling they all are, like freaky inky skeletons. Ruby then gives the FIRST volley-

11:12

-WHICH does nothing! That’s what you get for forgetting those super cross-bullets from the character short Ruby...and RWBY in general, what the hell happened to those things? Its even worse when the Apathy uses-EMO SHRIEK-

And its SUPER effective! THANKFULLY THOUGH-

OLD LADY MARIA APPEARS to save the day...by...encouraging them to run! Hey, helping’s helping, I’m not picky.

Maria: LET’S GO LESBIANS, LET’S GO!

Team RWBYM then runs ALL throughout the catacombs, running into more and more of these Grimm zombie fucks and JUST when they get to the exit-

-AND they hit em with another depression wave, they make Blue Diamond look like Holly Blue!

12:29 That don’d stop Maria, the little Yoda that could from trying to open the door-BUT-to no avail! Strong will power has its limits. ALSO-Blake has the most...HORRIFYING reaction to the Apathy’s power-

Blake:...its fine.

While she just LIES down, complacent in the absolute nothingness the Apathy gave them, just CREEPY!

Things are just NOT looking good folks, the music keeps getting creepier, the Grimm keep getting closer, and the PROM is tomorrow! But RIGHT before one of the skeledudes try to Freddy Kruger Blake-

Ruby: NO-not my sister’s almost girlfriend!

WOO-silver eyes-STUN THOSE LITTLE BITCHES!

Things seem good for like THREE seconds, Yang rushes to the door to bash it open BUT-

-they blast them with YET ANOTHER emo wave-RIGHT before Yang could get to the door.

Yang: NO-I can’t reach one of my two almost girlfriends!

Don’t lie, some of you were thinking shippy thoughts with that shot, and you DISGUST ME!

13:54 Once again its up to RWBY Grandma Katara to SAVE the day!

Maria: Ruby, what color are your eyes?

By...asking questions about eye color apparently! Also her goggles don’t look THAT distorted, I’m amazed she hasn’t guessed their silver.

Maria than gives her the ULTIMATE pep-talk, Ruby gets up and REVEALS-

-SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HA GRIMM DISINTEGRATION POWERS! AWESOME! H-wait...did Ozpin KNOW about how Silver Eye powers WORKED? Cos if he did...wwwwwwwwwwwhy didn’t he get Ruby a tutor? Because that is one BAD ASS super power!

Either way it was an attack SO awesome-

-that it fixed Maria’s eyes! HUZZAH!

Yang bashes the exit’s door, REVEALING IT LEADS TO-

15:22 -THE HOUSE...uh, yeah where else would it lead? I’m just saying EVERYONE here is surprised, including Weiss and Ruby who saw the door LAST episode. Man, intense magical apathy must do TERRORS on the memory-WHICH-is actually true for those for depression. They ALSO see-

DRUNKLE QROW-who has been ABSOLUTELY useless this ENTIRE episode due to the Apathy amplifying his depression. Seriously, I want to point out he DOES look worse in this episode than others, most times he was a functional drunk, this time he went full off the wagon.

Everybody decides to logically leave this hellish house of hell-housery-RIGHT BEFORE THE ANIMATORS-

15:37 Give us SHIP BAIT! GLORIOUS GLORIOUS SHIP BAIT!

Either way, Weiss who is absolutely DONE with being scared and apathetic does the ONLY logical thing one can do in this situation-

-SET SOME BITCHES ON FIRE! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH-their gonna toast up NICE with all that wood and alcohol there!

After pushing a belligerent Drunkle Qrow who EVENTUALLY notices the death monsters-

16:26 See that look? THAT is a combo look of both breaking from a plus 10 apathy enchantment AND instant sobriety!

Either way, everyone gets on the cart attached to Bumblebee and they get OUT OF THERE-

...rather...smoothly I gotta say! I mean what is that, 25 miles an hour? Bumblebee has a GOOD amount of horsepower for a motorcycle, wander why Yang had so much trouble trudging it through the snow earlier.

Everybody than says sorry for ever saying they’d want to quit the debatably futile mission of stopping an immortal witch, Maria gives final backstory on the apathy inducing monsters they fought being rounded up there by dumb-ass Bartleby who just didn’t want to pay Hunstmen and thought putting his friends and family into a state of constant apathy was a good idea, bla bla bla-TELL US WHAT WE ALL READY KNOW WOMAN!

Ruby: Ms Calavera, how do you know so much about the Grimm, and in the tunnels you know exactly what to say to make my eyes do that...how?

Maria: Well, isn’t it obvious girl...I had silver eyes!

BAM-a creepy as hell horror episode, more examples of Qrow’s drinking being a LEGIT problem, and SECRETS REVEALED in Maria being a Silver-eyes! DAMN what a good episode, hell the Apathy are almost as creepy as the Nuckaleave, and I LOVES the Nuckaleave!

Either way, fun episode, if you want to support my Patreon or Kofi just ask or message me, SEE YA NEXT WEEK ON MICKSTERECAPS!

[zora-moyashi]

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Core

A bright blue arrow shot at Chara, grazing her cheek.

ZM

blood dripped from her cheek as she followed the direction the arrow was thrown from

Core

She saw someone on the roof of the castle

ZM

"what's the big idea!" she calls taking a step towards the castle once again as a sort of taunt

Core

She saw that the person, a star to be assumed, had a bow like arm, and aimed it at Chara

ZM

"you dream?" she keeps going forward

Core

The star lowered their bow, they had messy blond hair and their left arm (the bow one) was covered in black. "Depends on who's asking."

ZM

"asking you clearly" she laughs

Core

"Look kid, I don't have the time or patience for these stupid games."

ZM

"hey hey hey i just want to check out the castle, soooooo" she goes a bit faster now

Core

She got an arrow threw her shoulder. "No one likes a smart*ss."

ZM

"aghssss" she hisses as the pain holding the arrow and mumbles out through her teeth "so i've heard." she glares at the star.

Core

"Tell me why you want to enter." The Star demanded

ZM

"to. look. around." she says sternly and rips out the arrow messing up her shoulder pretty badly. she can't heal herself so she just deals with it after burning the wound to stop the bleeding.

Core

The star growled, "fine, but if you touch anything, you're dead."

ZM

"whatever." She pushes open the castle doors and is met with a courtroom with broken chandeliers and stairs with almost all the carpet ripped off

Core

There were lots of crooks and crannies, and rafters on the ceiling. tons of hiding places....

ZM

'maybe I should just let her kill me so this pain can stop' she thinks looking at her shoulder. 'when was my last save..?' she can't quite remember. "What a pretty place~ I wonder is stars are hiding in here."

Core

Killer teleported behind Chara. "Hey,

ZM

"hey, decided to join?" She grins

Core

"That and here." Killer said, showing she can make save points.

ZM

"ooo you're just full of surprises." She touches the save and she heals completely. "That dream character was untrusting, I assume she's hiding something here."

Core

"Well, that's correct. She has kits."

ZM

"everyone has kits danggg like wow"

Core

"I don't and her kits are much older."

ZM

"how much older?" She climbs up the stairs and starts shoving planks away from some holes in the walls finding not much but spiders.

Core

"two years." Killer said, keeping an ear out for the corrupted Dream

ZM

"That means they're the size of tweens or what?"

Core

"Around the size of a 5 year old human."

ZM

"alright," she does more snooping. One room caught her eye in particular most of the floor was missing. The floor below was below completely dark she walked from plank to plank seeing a small spiral staircase at the end of the room.

Core

She herd giggling coming from down the stairs

ZM

she turns to the stairs. "hey? you want to come out?" she moves things around absent minded.

Core

The giggling went silent. Killer grabbed Chara as an arrow almost hit her

ZM

"woo~" she yells "do that again!" she was impressed with her reflexes. she looks around for the one who shot the arrow.

Core

Killer moved quickly, dodging more arrows, Dream was on the rafters

ZM

"we didn't reallllly touch anything you know? we ain't gonna hurt anything!"

Core

"That's bullsh*t." Dream hissed.

ZM

"hm. if you're gonna treat us like that then yeah, you're probably right."

Core

Killer set Chara down before grabbing her knife.

ZM

chara followed suit looking at dream ready to doge more shots.

Core

Killer jumped up to the rafters, ready to cut throat

ZM

chara grins and hops over to look for the kit she heard while killer keeps dream busy.

Core

The downstairs 'basement' area was mostly empty except for some support pillars. Behind a pillar she did notice a bit of fabric poking out

ZM

she goes up to the pillers

And she looks behind the one with the fabric

Core

She saw two kits, they looked to be around 5. one was a boy, with black hair, the other was a girl

ZM

"hey there~" she smiles and waves "your mom's trying to kill me"

Core

The young male hissed. KIller soon came down the stairs

ZM

"geez don't be mean, I'm just saying hi." she looks to killer, "you kill her? cause i don't think night would like that"

Core

Killer showed Chara a yellow stone, about the size of one's eye, part of it seemed to have black corrosion on part of it..

ZM

"well there you go." with a shrug she turns her attention to the kids and kneels on the floor "your mom's recharging. how about we go on a little adventure?" she asks

Core

the blond kit looked at her brother. "bad." she whispered

ZM

she snickers "haha what?" she grins while folding her arms. "i'm not bad!" she shrugs "well, mostly not bad."

Core

The two didn't seem to trust Chara and Killer

ZM

she giggles to herself. "okayyy but don't you want to get out of the castle and go make some friends? you must get board in here right?"

Core

"Y-yeah." the male said

ZM

"exactly! yuma here has a lot of friends she could introduce you to and you guys can look at a cool abandoned city. no reason not to go~"

Core

The male seemed to like this idea, while the girl wasn't sure.

ZM

she stands and looks at the girl "what do ya say?"

Core

The boy nodded

ZM

"good enough for me, let's go!" she slides down the stair rail and heads out the door without waiting for the others.

Core

Killer handed Chara the stone. "Since you haven't seen one before." The boy tagged behind, the girl slowly following

ZM

thanks she takes it. "how do youuuu know i've never held one?" she squints at her before rolls the stone around in her hand. "it's a little weird holding someone's soul." the color intrigued her maybe only because she's never seen a multi-colored soul.

Core

"Well, she'll reform in a few hours, and hers is different, it's corroded like Nightmare's."

ZM

what's this corrosion really mean for a star?

Core

it's the corrosion from the dark fruit.

ZM

"does it have any negative side effects besides, like, being evil ahaha." she kicks some rocks and takes a glance back at the kits.

Core

The kits were following. "makes it harder for them to respawn."

ZM

"hey! good for us!" she puts a finger to her chin in thought. "i think we should introduce them to horror, what do you say?"

Core

"Bad idea, Horror is a cannibal."

ZM

"i thought you all were cannibals. like just part of a genocide star thing"

Core

"Nah, I'm not, nor is LJ or Moku.'

ZM

"wooooah." she stops. " LJ's a star??? i thought she's human?"

Core

"Well, she's kinda both, I mean, she isn't a real star, but isn't like other humans

ZM

"pfft," she scoffs "she just has to be more special than she already was i suppose. I'm not even gonna ask what's up with her, it'll just upset me. so let's go see moku than?" she tilts her head.

Core

"Sure." Killer said

ZM

they head over with the kids close behind they mutter things to each other about what they think moku's like. they're at the forest where nightmare was before. chara wonders if she'll show up or not. "moku?" she calls out a

Core

"What." Mokue hissed.

ZM

"we're saying 'hi'" she says in the same tone as her

Core

Moku saw the kits, "where the he-" she growled before grabbing her rifle

ZM

"woah woah woah what the hell! what's your damage moku?" she moves in front of the kits

Core

"It's called getting rid of future competition." Moku hissed

ZM

"well cut it out they're just kids! they want to make some friends." she glares at her her eyes flashing red.

Core

Moku made her eyes flash as well, one turned red the other yellow

ZM

she takes a step forward. "you know these are dream's kits. night won't be pleased with your little extermination plan."

Core

Moku growled, setting the rifle to the side; she knew chara was right

ZM

"that's right." she huffs and steps away from the kits and looks if they're alright.

Core

They seemed confused, but where fine, Killer was arguing with horror

ZM

chara shakes her head after looking to horror. "everyone's out to get you two. what a pain. I'd take you somewhere more pleasant but i don't have the power to." she looks back at moku being sure to keep the gun out of her line of sight. "so hey, you gonna play nice and show these two around or is that job up to me?"

Core

"I know a spot to hide them." Moku said

ZM

"mm? lead the way if you want" she checks the soulstone that's in her pocket seeing no real change so she follows moku.

Core

Moku walked, a pistol on her belt

Core

She led then to a hidden grotto

ZM

when they get to the clearing chara's eyes like up she loves the area. she puts her hands to her face and grins. "it's prettyyy"

Core

"Well, I found it a while ago."

ZM

"this where you go when you have nothing to do for nightmare?" chara makes a small ball of green-blue magic and bounces it. she tosses one to the kits as well

Core

The boy caught it and gave it to his sister. "nah, this is just where I hide my stuff."

ZM

"i see," she looked around the place to see what she had

Core

There was three sketchbooks, a journal, some old targets, and old trickets

ZM

may I?" she walks over to the sketchbooks.

Core

"I guess, nothing but just a bunch of doodles."

ZM

she picks one up and flips to a page she likes being gentle with the pages

Core

There was sketches of strange flora and fauna, the majority were drawn very realistically.

ZM

"they're good, i'll give you that." she finds a flower that she likes a lot that has jagged edged pedals with stripes going out from the center

Core

Moku shrugged, "they're decent enough, anyway, how far do you plan on trying to work yourself up?"

ZM

"all the way!" she jokes putting the sketchbook down "what do you know about any of that? does my demeanor just scream 'i wanna be strong'?"

Core

Moku actually snickered. "You're an idiot, look, here is how things go down during the blood moon. all genocide stars meet up, to establish the pecking order, one is not allowed to kill another unless it is for the role of alpha, which currently is held by Blood. Now, if one wishes to go up the ranks, they have to force those higher up in the ranks to retreat to their soulstone.if you don't have a soulstone, well, don't lose." Moku explained.

ZM

"well moku, i have more in common with you stars than you may think. i won't die, i will be able to win. i've my own powers that nearly guarantee eventual victory."

Core

You can't just fight the same person again and again, you get one chance, which is why you should try to learn your opponents weaknesses." Moku explained

ZM

"moku moku moku" she shakes her head. "you all will feel like it'd be my first time. but it'd be the final time when i win. none of you except perhaps cross or killer would be able to even know i'd done anything remotely fishy. time travel's fun like that." she squints "unless you're telling me that along with one of the highest cyan abilities of teleportation you all also have the highest red ability of time manipulation. because in that case hell why do i even try." she laughs

Core

"Well, you see, when Cross first, well went rouge she tried something similar, I wasn't alive yet, but I learned about this quickly, mainly because I tried to take her place. anyway, one has to be unpredictable, uncertain of what they will even do, if anything during the blood moon is the one time we all can lose control. So even if we don't notice, others will, and can interfere." Moku explained. "Some may be able to change your save point, so still, besides, if you can outsmart your opponent, no need to die over and over."

ZM

"smarts are over rated" she waves her advice away and folds her arms "are you trying to help me or somethin?"

Core

"Actually, yes. You see, most of the others despise me, and others similar to me, since we weren't born, rather created by a version of Gaster who studied genetic data." Moku said

ZM

"i don't see the issue with that. it's like mewtwo lol. people, monsters, stars, or whatever can be so stupid! but frankly you helping me won't make anyone like you more. if you're just helping cause 'm one of the few that don't hate you, than you should probably rethink your objective." she studies her face "what are you really after?"

Core

Moku glanced at Chara, "Anarchy." She smirked sadistically, "with you in the ranks, it is only a matter of time til the file gets corroded, then one just needs to make sure a certain squid can't repair it~" She replied

ZM

chara looks pleased with this response. if she can get rid of this whole universe's file that would eliminated almost all stars she’s come into contact with. making it that much easier to climb to the most powerful in all of the multiverse. "intriguing," she nods

"i'm all for some anarchy, but how does this help you? you just wanta see everyone suffer?":

Core

"Well, once this world gets destroyed, I won't I have a separate coding, so, it just gets rid of the compition

ZM

"fair, fair~ do what you want moku, i'll help you out whenever it's convenient." she looks over to the kits. "y'all didn't hear anything by the way." she grins and shakes a finger. like anyone would believe a couple of kits anyway. chara's impressed with all of the secret alliances she's become a part of, makes her happy to shake things up a bit.

"as far as me being able to climb the ranks i have my own ways so no need to worry. i'll be ready by the blood moon."

Core

"well, avoid any outcodes." oku said, "as for these two," she referred to the kits, "they can stay here."

ZM

"cool," she turns to the kits "you guys chill out here i'll be back a bit latter." looking back at moku. "no promises on staying away from outcodes." she waves and starts to walk out of the grotto. "ciao," seeing as her time frame just got chopped way shorter and she has no intention of giving her body over for some star to control she's hatching a bit more of a risky idea for the short term.

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