#ignore the hands it’s 3 am and they’re obviously a work in progress

[totally-here]

3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up

One

Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help. 

Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long. 

Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned. 

Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity. 

The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room. 

Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up. 

“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”

“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”

“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark. 

Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?” 

Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”

“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”

Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times. 

“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?” 

“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.” 

“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”

Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life. 

“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes. 

Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.

They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.

Two

Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.

But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that. 

So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it. 

When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone. 

Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders. 

“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost. 

Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead. 

“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?” 

Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?

Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.” 

Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”

Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.” 

Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.

But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?

But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him. 

“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?” 

“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!” 

“You what.” 

The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg. 

Three

Tim may be in a…Predicament. 

It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead. 

So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl. 

Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker. 

“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?” 

Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”

“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes. 

His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing. 

Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.

Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”

Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body. 

“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches. 

“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly. 

“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker. 

They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?” 

Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”

“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that. 

Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably. 

Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”

“Not the same one.”

They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car. 

Plus one

A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything. 

Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out. 

No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile. 

Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions. 

“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.” 

“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.” 

“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible. 

“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies. 

He gets a resounding no in response. 

Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else. 

Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl’s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it. 

“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula. 

“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?” 

Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?” 

“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!” 

“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”

“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame. 

“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?” 

Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”

“Only because I’m here now.” 

“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest. 

It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”

Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds. 

And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head. 

“Phantom,” The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”

“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring. 

“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”

“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”

“Well, yes, but–”

“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.” 

Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest. 

Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused. 

The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.” 

Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”

Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 4: The Three Stooges 

AN: At least it hasn’t been two months again 😅. Let’s check in with the other batboys and see how they’re handling Damian and Marinette’s chaos. 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3

Tim wondered when his day took a solid dive off the cliffs of normal and into the waters of weird.

It probably started when Dick dragged them out of bed at eight in the morning – on a Saturday – piled them into the car, and drove them an hour and a half out of the city to an IKEA. If they had actually been there to shop they would have either burned the store down or killed one another. 

Not that those things were off the table yet. 

Tim had work, actual work, that he could be doing. But no, instead he was playing a demented game of hide-and-go-seek, which was careening into an all-out war. The destroyed shelving units, shopping carts, and forklift were unmistakable evidence of that.

How had the demon spawn accomplished this in less than a minute?

Bruce would kill them, once he came back from off-world.

That is if Alfred didn’t get to them first.

“Uh, order 177? Shit, my pay isn't enough for this.”

The words shook Tim from his stupor. He walked over to the counter.

“Hi,” he said, flashing his most charming CEO grin. “I have a quick question?”

The server's fixed smile contrasted with his dull eyes.

“I need to know what way the boy who ordered this headed.”

“No.”

Tim sighed, “Look, it’s important. My brother-”

“I mean, no, it wasn’t a boy.”

Tim paused. “Huh?”

“It was a girl, a teen girl. Black hair, big blue eyes, French accent. She was sitting over there,” he waved at an empty table. “But I think she walked away before that happened.” Referring to the giant train wreck occurring a few aisles over.

“Oh,” said Tim. “Thanks.”

“Do you want the order?”

Tim held back an annoyed sigh.

“Sure.”

So that’s how he, Jason, and Dick, sat at the abandoned picnic table, staring at the abandoned meal bought with Damian’s credit card. Jason grabbed a couple of fries and shoved them in his mouth.

“That’s evidence, nitwit,” hissed Tim.

Jason ignored him, stabbing a meatball with the plastic fork. “What? It’s going to go to waste. Girlie obviously ain’t coming back for it.”

“We should be more worried about how a random girl used Damian’s credit card!”

“She could have stolen it?” offered Dick.

“Demon spawn would have broken her arm before getting pickpocketed,” countered Jason, eating another fry. Silence. A weird glint appeared in Jason's eye. He turned to Tim. “What did you say the girl looked like again?”

“Black hair, blue eyes, French accent.”

“Shit,” muttered Jason.

“What?”

“I think I ran into her earlier, about an hour and a half ago. Asked her if she had run into demon spawn – she sounded confused and tourist-like. But maybe…”

“Maybe she’s working with him?” offered Tim.

“Could be.”

“Damian? Working with another person? A stranger?” Dick shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like him.”

Jason shoved another fry into his mouth. “The brat’s a competitive little shit, if he thought teaming up would help him get ahead, he’d do it in a heartbeat.” He pointed a fry at Tim. “Can you look at the security footage?”

“I’m already two steps ahead of you,” Tim said, flashing his phone with the hacked in security camera footage on-screen. Jason and Dick huddled in close as a small girl walk on screen and stood at the counter.

“Yep, that’s her. Can you ID her, Timmy?”

Tim rolled his eyes, “This is a smartphone, Jay, not a laptop.”

“I thought Mr. World’s Second Greatest Detective would be prepared for anything.”

“Well excuse me for not having facial recognition software, on my phone.”

“Guys chill.”

“Shut up, Dick,” Jason and Tim said in unison.

The footage played out and they watched the girl order two meals and pay with Damian’s credit card. They switched to another camera when she left and sat at the picnic table. A few minutes later Jason and Tim walked into frame.

“Look, there! She tenses. Look at her body language, she’s panicking. She knows who you two are.” Dick looked shocked that, yes, Damian had teamed up with a partner.

They watched the girl panic, although she managed to keep her body from reacting too much. She placed her phone to her ear and walked away from her spot.

“Who is she talking to?”

“Maybe Damian was watching out of sight?”

“Shoot, Tim, she’s out of frame. Do we have another angle?”

It took another minute or so, but Tim found the right security camera catching the mysterious girl leaving the food court. As she walked away the image on the screen flickered, and a moment later the shelving units fell.

“Oh crap,” swore Jason. “Do you think she has magic? Fuck, it would be just our luck if demon spawn teamed up with someone dangerous.”

Dick shook his head. “It could be a coincidence. We didn’t see her do anything. The chaos could have been a coordinated effort between her and Damian.”

Tim wasn’t so sure. “Come on Dick, you’ve been in the game long enough to know just because something looks one way, doesn’t mean it's true.”

They watched the girl hurry out of sight, this time it was much more difficult to follow her progress through the store. She would randomly duck in and out of showrooms, coming out differently than how she came in. If the three boys hadn’t been trained in stealth and detection for years, they would have had a challenging time tracking her.

Jason whistled low. “Who is this chick? I’m impressed. She has serious skill.”

Finally, she ducked into a showroom and didn’t come out. Tim couldn’t find a camera giving them an unobstructed view, but it didn't matter. They had a destination.  

“This was ten minutes ago, they could already be long gone,” said Dick.

“Or they could still be hiding there,” countered Jason.

“We’ll find out when we get there.” They walked out of the cafeteria and past the closed aisles. The forklift that had been buried under the collapsed shelving unit was being unearthed by a flock of bewildered employees.

“Ten bucks says she has magic,” said Jason.

“Yeah, no.” Tim was good at math and the odds of everything happening just as she left was too big to be a coincidence. “I’m not stupid enough to take that bet.”

“Come on you guys, let’s focus here,” chided Dick.

Walking back through the showrooms Tim kept an eye out for any sign of his brother or his accomplice, but it was as if they had disappeared into thin air. Arriving at the last location they had spotted the girl, they waited for a touring couple to leave before descending on the tiny, boxed room like the detectives they were trained to be.

It didn’t take long to discover the lasered off vent.

“Shit,” groaned Jason. “They could be anywhere by now.”

“Tim can you-”

Tim had his phone in hand, “I’m already on it. I’ll have the vent layout in a minute.” He felt insulted they even needed to ask.

Jason peered into the vent, “Damn, I think we’re too big to follow.”

 Dick sighed. “I miss my vent crawling days; they just don’t make them as big as they used to.”

“That’s what she said,” snickered Jason.

“Focus you two,” Tim snapped. “I’ve pulled up the air duct plans.” He flashed the screen to his two brothers who settled down. “This particular vent runs a couple of places. We have one entrance at the back of the store in the storeroom. Then another veering off near the daycare center, and the last which comes out near the unloading dock.”

“I’ll take the one next to the daycare center,” said Dick. “I’m the only one who isn't demented,” pointing to Jason, “or sleep-deprived,” pointing to Tim.

“Hey!” exclaimed Jason.

Tim sneered, repressing a Damian-like growl, “I wouldn’t be so sleep deprived if you hadn’t dragged us out of the house at eight in the morning. I arrived in from patrol at three.” He hadn’t had coffee in hours, and the weight of his body pressed on him like a panini maker.

Dick ignored them. “Jason can take the one at the loading docks, and Tim you’ll be able to bypass security and get into the back the easiest.”

“Sounds good to me,” grunted Jason.

“Alright,” agreed Tim. “The second any of us spots them, text the group chat, will box them in from there.”

They nodded and headed off their separate ways. Despite the tiredness in Tim's bones, there was a heady rush of the hunt thrumming in his veins. Damian, and whoever he had decided to pair up with, were going down.

Tag List: (Closed, sorry!! I’m so glad you all like it though.)

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[illuminatedquill]

Nevertheless, Episode 9

More Thoughts/Analysis

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.”

- E.A. Bucchianeri

Jae Eon’s Self Sabotage

Chekov’s Gun is the dramatic principle that details within a story will contribute to the overall narrative. You might have heard of this before in its simplest form: if there is a gun shown in Act 1, it absolutely must go off in Act 2 or 3. In episode 9 of Nevertheless, we have this scene right at the beginning:

Yes, that scene. Park Jae Eon sees Yang Do Hyeok standing off to the side as he waits outside Na Bi’s apartment to retrieve his stuff. Na Bi doesn’t know Do Hyeok is nearby. Jae Eon makes the calculation in his head and manipulates his way inside Na Bi’s apartment, knowing exactly what it looks like to Do Hyeok. It’s petty revenge for seeing Na Bi and Do Hyeok together on campus from earlier.

This is the gun. And it backfires on Jae Eon big time. Throughout the entire episode, his acts of sincerity towards Na Bi seem genuine and heartfelt, yet his action in that one scene undermines anything he attempts. It doesn’t work; to his mounting frustration, Na Bi and Do Hyeok continue to talk and meet as if nothing happened.

(We know that’s not the case as seen from Do Hyeok’s alone time but I’ll talk about that later in this post.)

It’s a ticking time bomb and it goes off at last in the rain scene. Nothing is working for him. He is desperate not to lose Na Bi. And he goes off in a drunken rage on Na Bi after she returns home on that fateful rainy night.

And he loses her. The gun goes off. Everything sincere he did turns rotten in Na Bi’s eyes after he reveals his actions. Actions have consequences, always rippling forward and affecting change in moments not yet experienced. He ruined his chances because of his petty cruelty towards Do Hyeok in the beginning. His sincerity only extended towards Na Bi and it was only to get her attention once more.

Jae Eon lost. Not so much to Do Hyeok, as he lost to Na Bi, who cares about him deeply. He underestimated her feelings towards Do Hyeok, assuming, like so many other viewers, that he was an an irritating distraction that refused to go away.

He can’t fathom why Do Hyeok still seems to like Na Bi after seeing them enter her apartment together. Is he really that incredible a person? What makes him so special?

Well, let’s talk about it.

Do Hyeok’s Crisis Playbook

We see from Do Hyeok’s time alone after his initial visit to Seoul that he is taking it pretty hard; I can’t really blame him, considering what he saw that night. His struggle is open, honest, and raw; like Na Bi, it affects him to the point that he can’t focus on his work (anyone seem to notice that Jae Eon’s work never seems to be affected by his feelings?).

It’s jealousy and insecurity eating away at him. Just like Jae Eon. He’s also desperate not to lose Na Bi but doesn’t want to do anything untoward or overboard because he’s afraid of ruining their friendship. Once again, his consideration is for Na Bi and how she feels, but he cannot ignore what he saw and how he feels about it.

So, what is our favorite Potato Boy to do? Park Jae Eon already made his move by staging that whole scene of him and Na Bi going into her apartment together. How does Do Hyeok fight back? What’s his playbook in this time of crisis?

He doesn’t fight back. And that’s how he stays in the game. Do Hyeok is not a player like Jae Eon; there isn’t a manipulative or deceptive bone in his body. Do Hyeok does what he always does and doubles down on his sincerity, on the strength of his feelings, and his faith in Na Bi.

Do Hyeok doesn’t play the game Jae Eon tries to involve him in. He always lays it all out on the table with Na Bi so there is no room for misunderstandings. That’s one of the reasons why their relationship works so well; they talk more. Not just about feelings or romance but about school or their day to day life. What they’re building now is something that can last a lifetime.

So he talks to her about it. And admits his jealousy. She wasn’t even aware that he had seen them and yet it sounds like he’s the one who is apologizing (even though he never let his hurt feelings show in his conversations with Na Bi, DO HYEOK YOU ARE TOO GOOD). He lays himself bare to her once more. We don’t see Na Bi’s response other than her shocked and guilty expression, which is annoying because it would definitely be interesting to see how she reciprocated his frankness.

(Underrated super cute scene between them in this episode; when they meet up at night and bring drinks for each other. It’s even the exact same drink. I was grinning like a maniac.)

But Na Bi is familiar with Jae Eon’s game. And when she finds out how badly Do Hyeok was hurt by Jae Eon’s actions (and how he involved her in it) Na Bi finally is snapped to her senses and severs the thread still binding her and Jae Eon together.

Na Bi’s choice isn’t shown as a redemptive or heroic moment. It never was supposed to be. Although I’m sure a lot of us were cheering in that moment, her moments of unrestrained grief alone afterwards are the sobering reality that love, as always, comes with a price.

Nabi’s Choice (The Review)

This is a follow up to my earlier post before episode 9 came out. So, now we see what Na Bi decides and, maybe, how it will all play out in the next episode (barring any last minute twists).

First, let’s address the still ongoing criticism I see regarding Na Bi and Do Hyeok’s relationship: lack of passion, no romantic vibes, blah blah blah. I wrote at length in a previous post why that isn’t true - at least on Do Hyeok’s part (one of the reasons why we don’t get internal monologue from Do Hyeok is because what else is he thinking about other than Na Bi?).

Na Bi, on the other hand, is still ambivalent about her feelings towards Do Hyeok. Episode 9 provided more clarity for her stance towards Jae Eon - he’s the dog shit she stepped on and was promptly wiped away in the grass - but Do Hyeok is still a mystery. Yes, she’s friendly, she cares, and genuinely enjoys being with him but the spice, the passion is missing. And that is kinda important for a romantic relationship.

Well. Look no more. Na Bi has spice for Do a Hyeok and it shows not once, but twice this episode. Where’s the passion? Jae Eon fucked around and found out. Very kind of him. Turns out Na Bi, like all of us who like Do Hyeok, will not tolerate any Do Hyeok slander and I am 100 PERCENT here for it.

There’s a scene shortly before the climatic rain fight where Na Bi is having another meeting with her assistants: the junior (does he have a name? Jin-su?) and Jae Eon. The junior talks to Na Bi about her and Park Jae Eon: the usual tired gossip of whether or not they’re dating. Na Bi waves it away like dandelion fluff.

And then the junior mentions Do Hyeok. “What about the noodle shop guy? Ever since the camp meeting, people have been saying there’s a higher chance you’re dating him.”

And Na Bi just . . . we’ve never seen this from her before, even when she broke up with Jae Eon in episode 5. Her whole demeanor turns ice cold and her voice is wicked sharp as she proceeds to shut down that avenue of questioning. The junior physically leans back from the force of her anger and wonders aloud why she’s so upset (you’re talking about her love life as gossip, idiot, why do you think she’s so upset). Jae Eon walks in and doesn’t see the foreshadowing; he just hears Do Hyeok and it feeds his jealousy.

There it is, everybody. Evidence of Na Bi’s feelings for Do Hyeok and what he means to her. Her protectiveness over him and her refusal to let him be involved in the drama surrounding herself and Jae Eon. Her desire to be the better around him; not because he asks (and he would never) but because his feelings for her make her think she might be worthy of such a love.

And then there’s the rain scene. Na Bi and Jae Eon, vulnerable in the rain. Na Bi admits to her faults in the relationship, how she brought this upon herself. No, she hasn’t been nice or good this whole time; in fact, she’s been kind of terrible. But Jae Eon revealing what he did and how it was to hurt Do Hyeok wakes her up and convinces that the time has come to end this “game”. It got Do Hyeok hurt because of her inability to end it with Jae Eon and good people don’t let that happen to people they care about.

So Na Bi ends it with Jae Eon and chooses herself. At last. And to do so, she has to cut out this malignant tumor of a relationship and, God, does it hurt so much to end it, but she gets it done and takes the first step to being a better person for herself.

The cinematography in this drama is top tier and we see her situation presented so viscerally. She’s alone, in the light, but it’s not a warm, redemptive light; it has a sickly, yellow tint and is surrounded by darkness.

But she’s still there. She still made it.

One Last Observation, I Promise

Last thing I noticed from this episode that I want to talk about: the professor’s critique of Na Bi. She specifically mentions that a good artist can inspire others and Na Bi, whether she realizes it or not, actually does do that.

Na Bi helps Do Hyeok with his videos, giving advice that helps boost their popularity and making them better.

Jae Eon is inspired to make the butterfly bracelet for Na Bi and gifts it to her.

The difference between the two? Do Hyeok actually thanks Na Bi for her help and points out that it was her influence that made his videos better.

Jae Eon obviously means his gesture to be romantic and sincere but he again fails to talk about why he’s doing it. The implication is there but Na Bi needs more than some vague nonsense.

Communication is at the heart of this episode and how, without it, relationships stagnate and fail. Bit Na + Gyu Hyun and Soljiwan couple - their relationships only progress because the couples voice their concerns and fears to one another. And instead of being rejected or being hurt, it allows their partners to reassure them and move forward with their relationship.

Why do Na Bi and Jae Eon fail? They. Don’t. Talk. Na Bi is stuck inside her head and Jae Eon relies on vague gestures and sexual chemistry to express himself.

Why do Na Bi and Do Hyeok succeed? Because they talk. About everything. Their dialogue is clear and honest and sincere without any hidden meanings or motives. And you see why Na Bi is rapidly moving more and more towards Do Hyeok and not Jae Eon.

(The preview does raise some questions about how it will all end but I don’t think the show is going to pull a bait and switch and have Na Bi end up with Jae Eon. I also don’t think it’s likely they’ll have an open ending, either. I’ll talk about that in another post.)

My next post will be what I envision to be the best version of a Na Bi and Do Hyeok endgame and what I mean by that since Na Bi shouldn’t be dating anyone right now. So, look forward to that.

Until next time, everybody. Thanks for reading this long ass post. Hope you enjoyed it.

[sevlgi]

opposites

requested: yes

group: blackpink

pairing: rosé x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst

contents: college!au, good girl!rosé, bad girl!reader

warnings: none

synopsis: They say opposites attract, and when the campus’s resident sweetheart falls for a bad girl, Rosé discovers just how true that statement is.

a/n: I’M SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK ME OMGGGG  hope you enjoy, and I’m glad you like my blog ❤

word count: 3.6k

Chaeyoung has never quite believed that opposites attract.

To be fair, she doesn’t have much experience to go off of. Despite being attracted to basically every person she meets, she hasn’t actually dated much. (As her friend Jennie jokes, she’s not bisexual, she’s by herself.)

And obviously, she’s not only attracted to people soft and sweet like herself. Especially in college, it’s more likely to find people in sweats and ratty T-shirts than people in pink sweaters and cute dresses.

It’s no secret that Chaeyoung is a hopeless romantic, convinced that she’ll find someone who she just works with. It’s also no secret that she’s determined to find someone similar enough to her that a relationship would actually work out.

Imagine her surprise when her next crush is the complete opposite of her.

You’re utterly fascinating to Chaeyoung; every little detail about you absolutely contradicts her, and she thinks her parents would faint if they saw you. Unlike Chaeyoung’s usually well-styled hair, you look like you’ve just rolled out of bed to go to class. Your leather jackets and heavy denim look stiff to the touch, and your dark circles, tattoos, and piercings are enough to ward all your classmates away.

But somehow, all of it just draws Chaeyoung in more. She’d never dream of dying her hair as much as you do, or getting as many tattoos as you have, but for some reason, you intrigue her.

She still doesn’t believe opposites attract. You might be gorgeous, but Chaeyoung is sure that your personalities would clash, and a relationship, however imaginary it may be, would never work out.

Of course, she’s also not willing to admit that she’s wrong to her friends, all of whom insist that opposites do attract. She just knows Lisa would gloat, and Chaeyoung is never giving her friends that satisfaction. 

“Who’re you staring at today?”

Chaeyoung pouts at Yeri, who slides into the seat beside her with a knowing smile. Joy, on the other side, is already following where Chaeyoung’s eyes were earlier. “Hey. I’m not always staring at people.”

“Yes, you are,” the two other girls chorus. “Come on, you’re always searching for ‘your other half’ or whatever,” Yeri rolls her eyes. “You barely focus in class because of it.”

Studiously ignoring where you sit in the lecture hall (3 rows ahead and 2 seats to the left), Chaeyoung scowls and twirls her pen. “Rude.”

“You know I am,” Yeri smiles, beginning to scan the room as well. “So, come on. Who’s your pick of the day?”

Joy narrows her eyes; Chaeyoung’s a bit panicked to see that her friend is already zeroing in on you. “Wait… it can’t be her, right?”

“Who?” Joy whispers in Yeri’s ear, and the youngest girl’s eyes widen. “Chaeng, it’s not her, right?”

The blonde attempts to play it cool, asking nonchalantly, “Who are you even talking about?”

Both girls point at your back, the dark leather of your jacket and the two empty seats on either side of you making it unmistakable that you’re the one they’re pointing at. “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s not her, right?”

Y/N Y/L/N. Chaeyoung tests it out on her tongue silently before realizing her friends are still waiting for an answer. “It… maybe, what’s it to you?”

Yeri groans, and Joy shakes her head in what seems to be disappointment. “You have the worst taste, Chaeyoung. I mean, she’s cute, but…”

To be honest, the most surprising part of the entire conversation is that her friends aren’t even teasing about the whole ‘opposites’ thing. “What’s wrong with Y/N?” Chaeyoung can’t help but feel a bit defensive; after all, it’s her taste in girls that was being attacked.

Joy leans in conspiratorially now, despite the professor clearing his throat at the front of the classroom. “Okay, so, she’s kind of the designated bad girl? I don’t really know, but I heard she’s killed someone.”

“What? No, she set a building on fire,” Yeri argues, rolling her eyes when Joy opens her mouth to disagree. “Whatever, whatever. Anyway, she’s bad news. She’s a serial dater, too, and she doesn’t like cats. Who doesn’t like cats?”

Chaeyoung’s eyebrows scrunch together as her friends argue. It’s probably not likely that you’ve killed anyone or set a building on fire, but still… a serial dater? None of it sounds good.

“Anyway, she’s the polar opposite of you,” Joy sighs, patting Chaeyoung sympathetically on the arm. “You know, you’re sweet and soft, and she’s… her.”

Suddenly, the professor clears his throat again and raises his eyebrow at where the three girls sit. “Ms. Park, Ms. Kim, the other Ms. Park? Anything important?”

“No, sorry, sir,” Chaeyoung blurts out, cheeks red. She’s not even blushing because she’s been put on the spot, though; it’s because you’ve finally turned around to look at her.

Maybe it’s the eyeliner, but something about your gaze feels like it sees right through her. With the tiniest quirk of the corner of your lips, you turn back around and leave Chaeyoung fully flustered.

Yeah, definitely a player.

Every day, Chaeyoung attempts to work up the courage to sit a little closer to you. She’s not making much progress; to be fair, you can’t blame her, when you’re usually given a 3 foot radius of empty space by everyone.

However, she discovers something new about you every day. She discovers that you drink black iced coffee (she drinks tea), and that you use mint flavored chapstick (she uses strawberry). You prefer cinnamon gum (which Chaeyoung thinks is a bit gross), and you only ever wear black socks (she wears white).

Joy really wasn’t kidding when she said you were Chaeyoung’s opposite.

Of course, it’s just the blonde’s luck when the professor announces a group project, and your name is the only one out of 40 that Chaeyoung knows.

It takes a lot of energy for Chaeyoung to approach you after class. “Hey,” she smiles; you don’t return it. “So, I was wondering if you have a partner for the project? If you don’t, I was thinking we could be partners…”

You look startled at first, though it settles behind a mask of calm indifference immediately. “You don’t have friends?” At the blonde’s wince, you roll your eyes, lips quirking into a smile. “Kidding. Sure. Let’s work together.”

“Great!” Chaeyoung beams, looping her arm through yours. You look even more surprised now, but it’s cute. Everything you do would probably look cute. “I’m Roseanne, but you should call me Chaeyoung or Chaeng.”

“I’m Y/N,” you offer. Your voice is quieter than Chaeyoung had imagined, but that’s probably her fault for thinking your voice was demon-like or something. “You’re a sophomore, right?”

“Right.” Chaeyoung has no idea how you know how old she is, but she can roll with it. “You?”

You nod, looking anywhere other than Chaeyoung face. “Yeah. Same. So, do you have any ideas for the project yet?”

“No, sorry.” She can’t help the smile on your face, still shocked that you’re holding a conversation with her and not murdering her already. “Let’s get coffee? We can talk about the project. If you’re free, of course.”

“I am.”

And that’s all it takes for Chaeyoung to grin again, grab your arm, and lead you to the nearest coffee shop.

Chaeyoung likes the way you’re honest about what you want. When she offers to order, despite knowing what you want, you quietly ask for the iced black coffee and hand her 10 dollars even when she tries to protest.

You don’t ask about what she ordered, and you make sure she tipped the extra before opening your laptop and asking for ideas.

As the afternoon goes on, you seem to grow more comfortable, and Chaeyoung can let go of some of her slightly forced enthusiasm. She actually finds herself enjoying your dry sense of humor and sarcastic comments, though she can’t really make any of her own.

By the time she has to go to her next class, Chaeyoung’s actually making jokes of her own, and she has your number stored in her phone.

All in all, a successful day.

“Hi.”

You look surprised (or as surprised as you deign to look) to see Chaeyoung sitting next to you in the lecture hall the day after the project was turned in. “Uh, hey.”

“How do you think we did on the project?” the blonde asks, taking out her laptop. She ignores the way you stare at her, hoping that you didn’t want to just forget her existence after the project or something. 

“Pretty good. You’re smart, I just helped a little bit.”

Chaeyoung laughs softly, swatting at your arm. “No way, come on. You’re smarter than your leather jackets let on, too.”

“And you’re smarter than your overly sweetened tea lets on,” you tease, a smile twinkling in your eyes.

She scowls and swats at you again, but you dodge this time. “I thought we agreed never to mention that again!”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Chaeyoung misses the way you smile at her after she turns to the board.

It becomes sort of a routine to sit next to you during lectures and copy off your surprisingly comprehensive notes. Chaeyoung can’t help but fall deeper and deeper at your ever-tentative smile, at each offhand, yet sweet comment.

All the little details about you, the tiniest things you notice, only make Chaeyoung fall harder. You buy non-cinnamon gum especially for her and keep 2 packs in your bag in case she wants some. Sometimes, you show up with a cup of so-called ‘overly sweetened tea’ next to your own coffee.

You see everything about her, and you both make the most subtle changes so that the two of you complement each other absolutely perfectly. Chaeyoung starts carrying blue pens because you prefer them, while you carry black ones in case either of you forget. You even carry a strawberry chapstick just for her.

Even Chaeyoung starts unconsciously enjoying the smell of your sweet mint chapstick; she wears it sometimes, not because she likes it more, but because she’s curious how it’d taste on your lips.

It doesn’t need to be said that Chaeyoung doesn’t just want to be friends anymore.

At first, she just wanted to understand you a bit better, to relieve her own fascination with you, but the more she learns, the more Chaeyoung is pulled in. It’s more than just a crush now, more than simple butterflies in her stomach.

Now, it’s an unconscious smile always tugging at her lips when you’re not with her, laughing at a joke that wasn’t necessarily actually that funny. It’s adapting to fit with you, and it’s accepting that maybe opposites do attract after all.

The only thing left is to introduce you to her friends.

“Are you ready?”

You frown, tugging at the sleeves of your leather jacket. Chaeyoung’s heart warmed when you offered to tone down your look for her, but she didn’t want you to change anything about yourself, so you just went with your jacket. “Sure, I guess.”

“Great!” the blonde beams, waving at Yeri and Joy, who she sees a few yards away from the huge table the two of you occupy. Behind them, Jisoo, Jennie, and Lisa lag, though they’re too far away to clearly see you.

Yeri’s expression isn’t exactly favorable; she stops right in her tracks to talk furiously to the others, and Chaeyoung frowns at the unreadable expression on your face. “Um… don’t worry, Y/N-ah. They’re probably just… talking about what to eat?”

“Sure,” you mutter, looking down. As the other girl has discovered, despite all your bravado and sass, you’re quite self-conscious. “It’s not like pizza is the only food this place offers.”

There’s no time for the blonde to reply; Jisoo, ever the tactful one, sits first and offers a tight smile. “Chaeng, good to see you. And you are?” 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” If Chaeyoung didn’t know you well enough, she wouldn’t be able to see past the mask of bored confidence you put on. “Jisoo, right? I’ve heard of you.”

The oldest girl flushes and nods. “Um, these are Jennie, Lisa, Yeri, and Joy.” They raise their hands or nod when their names are called, though their expressions are hostile.

Just as Chaeyoung opens her mouth to try and break the awkward silence, Lisa leans forward with her eyes narrowed. “So. What do you want with Chaeyoung?”

“Lisa!” The younger girl is usually sweet and puppy-like, but she’s also notoriously protective of her friends. Chaeyoung doesn’t miss the way your eye twitches just the slightest bit, and she resists the urge to put her hand on your arm. “Stop it.”

“What? You can’t deny this feels an awful like you’re introducing your girlfriend to us, and she’s the worst girlfriend you could have,” Lisa scowls, crossing her arms.

You sigh, shaking your head and standing up. Joy actually lurches back in her chair, as if expecting you to beat her up, but you just toss a quick smile to Chaeyoung, picking up the leather jacket slung over the back of your chair. “I think we’re done here. For your information, I’m not dating Chaeyoung, even though it wouldn’t be any of your business if I was.”

All the other girls stare at you, including Chaeyoung, as you continue, “You don’t know anything about me, so don’t assume. I appreciate that you care for Chaeng, but this is not the way to show it.”

With that, you’re gone, a light brush of your fingers on Chaeyoung’s shoulder the only way for her to tell that you aren’t angry at her.

As soon as you’re out of earshot, though, she scowls at her friends, hissing, “What the hell, Lisa? It was not your place to say any of that.”

The younger girl looks sheepish now, rubbing at the back of her neck. “I… I’m sorry.”

Jennie, though, rolls her eyes. “Come on, Chaeyoung. It’s what’s best, you don’t want to be dating her. She’s only going to break your heart.”

“I’m not that fragile, are you serious?” It’s honestly pretty uncharacteristic for Chaeyoung to actually be mad, but she can’t seem to control her words when her relationship with you might’ve been ruined. “It’s not your business anyway.”

Jisoo bites her lip, reaching for Chaeyoung’s hand across the table. “Chaeng, please. We just want what’s best for you, and Y/N isn’t that. You understand, right?”

No, I don’t. I don’t understand any of it. “Sure. I understand,” Chaeyoung exhales, sitting back. Despite everything she wants to say to her friends, she knows that they have good intentions, however misguided.

She’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

You don’t show up to class the next day, and Chaeyoung sits alone in her usual seat, feeling empty when you’re not quietly making snarky remarks beside her.

It’s odd, and it really shows how much you’ve ingrained yourself into her life.

After a day of thinking, Chaeyoung has come to realize that, despite all her friends’ warnings, she does have feelings for you. She wants to be with you, to enjoy the little things and the small moments together, and she thinks you might feel the same way.

Obviously, she’s still too cowardly to actually go to you and tell you.

After you don’t show up for the next 2 classes, Chaeyoung dials your phone. You don’t pick up there, either, and she’s left to frown at her phone in the middle of the road.

She’s not a passive person, so she fully intends to do anything she can to make you talk to her.

On Monday, she decides she’ll text your roommate Miyeon, but she gets caught up in classes. On Tuesday, Chaeyoung thinks she’ll bring you some notes, but she forgets to write an extra copy. On Wednesday, she catches a cold and Lisa refuses to let her go anywhere.

A week passes exactly like that.

Finally, 9 days after the disastrous lunch, she manages to get your dorm room number from the office lady she bribes with homemade cupcakes. You’re always home for lunch, probably because you don’t eat with anyone but Chaeyoung.

Her heart thuds in her chest as she rounds the corner to head into your hallway, the buzz of other students around her drowned out by the ringing in her ears. She knocks three times- one, two, three- on your door and she waits.

You look terrible when you open the door.

The permanent dark circles under your eyes are ten times darker than usual, and your lips are dry and chapped. You wear a rumpled Disney shirt that Chaeyoung would tease you about if she wasn’t so concerned. “Um… cupcakes?”

“Thanks for coming by.”

“No problem.” The blonde watches you pour out some cheap, college-student coffee at the tiny desk in the corner of the dorm. “I was just concerned. You haven’t been to class in a while, you know?”

You sigh and hand her a cup of piping hot tea, already sweetened just like Chaeyoung likes it. “Yeah. I know.”

“Hey.” Leaning over, Chaeyoung places her hand on yours, ignoring the way her heart skips a beat at the skin-to-skin contact. Judging by the blush on your face, you feel the same. “You can tell me anything, okay? We’re friends.”

You almost seem to wince, though Chaeyoung doesn’t know what for. “Yeah. I’m fine though.”

“Was it my friends?” the blonde persists, her eyes searching yours for an explanation. “I know that they were really rude, but I promise I don’t care about anything they say, okay?”

Scoffing, you stand up, seemingly to get more coffee, even though your mug is full. “I’m not that shallow, okay?”

“Then what is it?” Despite knowing she sounds desperate, Chaeyoung’s mind is racing for an explanation, anything that could tell her why you’re avoiding her. “Please talk to me.”

The beat of silence that passes only makes Chaeyoung feel more anxious, like her brain is spinning in circles inside her head, and she almost jumps when you speak again. “Do you… do you like me?”

“I… of course I do! You’re my friend, I like you very much.” The blonde is well aware that that isn’t what you meant, but she can’t help but avoid what she really wants to say as she babbles on, “Why? Do you want me to show my platonic love for you more often?”

“Chaeyoung.” You place your hand on hers and lean forward with a serious expression on your face that honestly scares Chaeyoung. “I know that you won’t tell me honestly any time soon, so I’m just going to say it first. I like you. A lot, and not as a friend.”

As the other girl’s jaw drops, you continue on, the overly quick speed of your speech letting Chaeyoung know just how nervous you are to say all of this. “I know that I have a reputation, and I know that I’m too closed down or boring, but you’re nothing like that. You’re so sweet and gorgeous, and I just… really like you. And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” Chaeyoung reaches for you again, eyes searching yours for any sign of insincerity. She doesn’t find any. “You’re not boring, Y/N, not in the slightest. And I like you too, every little thing about you.”

“I don’t think you know enough about me to say that,” you try to deflect, but the blonde shakes her head.

“You’re so sweet to me, Y/N, and it’s not your fault that no one else can see it, but I do. I see all the little things you do for me, and I fall for you more every day. Maybe I don’t know enough about you, but I want to learn. If you’ll let me.”

A short pause occurs before you exhale quickly, swiping away tears Chaeyoung didn’t notice were about to fall. “Okay. I’d love that.”

“Great.” Chaeyoung sits back again, but just as you’re about to get up, presumably to busy yourself with a drink or something, she blurts out, “Can I kiss you?”

The surprised look on your face is so endearing that she’s already grinning when you smile softly. “Of course you can.”

The moment that you bend down and press your lips to hers, so soft and gentle, is the best of Chaeyoung’s life. She can finally taste the sweet mint of your chapstick, mixed with the unique taste of you, and feel the way your lips are slightly chapped against her own. When you pull away, Chaeyoung loves the flush to your cheeks that mirrors hers, and she can only grin when you move away to get your coffee.

Maybe opposites do attract after all.

“Hey, can I ask you something again?”

“You already did,” you joke, then laugh when the other girl pouts. “Sure, Chaeng. What?”

“Do you hate cats?”

An offended gasp escapes from you, matching your expression. “No, who hates cats? I think that’s the worst rumor about me yet.”

The blonde protests, “What about the one about you murdering someone?”

Sniffing and sitting with your coffee, you say, “I stand by my case.”

Cupping your face with her hands, the cuffs of her sweaters brushing up against your cheeks, Chaeyoung presses another kiss to your lips. The taste of mint and coffee, strawberry and tea, is the most perfect combination she could ever imagine.

[meruz]

Aforementioned long ask post please excuse me while i try to figure out tumblr's new text editor. I’ll get into the art meme questions first and then the rest at the end.

Ok first of all thank you all for sending in questions! Giving me an excuse to talk hehe. I’ll address these in number order. Here’s a link to the ask meme for reference but also I’ll restate the question for ease of reading.

1. When did you get into art?

Super cliche answer but I don’t remember a time where I WASN’T the weird art kid! I started keeping a dedicated sketchbook when I was about 12? But here’s a page from my kindergarten journal about what I want to be when I grow up.

2. What art-related sites have you ever signed up for? 

LOL this is a weird question. Not sure why so many people want to know. Anyways I definitely had a dA. more than one dA account. I used to browse oekakis when I was a kid but I think I was only signed up to some small ones that internet friends owned. What else...? Mangabullet,Tegakie, Paintberri, iscribble back when that was a thing, instagram if that COUNTs, I used to post art on livejournal and dreamwidth too. Patreon, I guess. Gumroad, inprnt, bigcartel, storenvy all for selling stuff.

In terms of resources.. I have a schoolism account that I’m sharing with friends. Used to take classes on coursera for free. I signed up to textures.com for work recently haha. I can’t remember if I ever had an account on posemaniacs. Did they have accounts...? I definitely used to visit all the time.

3. Show us your oldest piece of art you have on hand.

Alright here’s me actually logging into my old deviantart account. These are from September 2008 So I was 13 years old. I don’t have a deviantart account from before then because 13 was the required age for having an account and I didn’t want to lie about my age because I wanted people to be impressed by how young yet clearly incredible at art I was LOL.

4. What defines your artistic style?

You guys are probably more equipped to answer this than me but uh... I wanna say... Focus on colors. And... a slightly heavy hand? Like confident... not always well-considered mark making HAH...

Also I think I have a pretty healthy mix of american comics/manga influences. I feel like people who are into american comics always think my art is too manga and people who are into anime/manga always think my art is too american. And I’m taking that as a good sign.

5. Do you practice other styles/have you tried other styles in the past?

I like to think I switch it up a bunch! I mean, these are pretty different, right?

I think I’ve mentioned this before but one thing I really took away from art school is that, for an illustrator at least, art style shouldn’t be consistent. Your greatest weapon is changing the aspects of your style based on the task, the emotions and message you want to illustrate etc. So depending on the project I’m working on, the fandom I’m drawing for, whether I want something to be funny or serious or dramatic, I’ll change things about my style all the time.

One thing I don’t rly post on here is really tight polished work and that’s because I do that for my day job haha. If you’re not paying me... I’m probably not gonna color in the lines.

6. What levels of artistic education have you had?

I have a whole ass diploma LOL. Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration. from the Rhode Island School of Design. And I had a great college experience tbh. Besides the student loans. If any of you guys are thinking about art school feel free to e-mail or message me questions or concerns, I’ll be happy to help. Be as honest as I can be.

7. Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site.

heres the wandavision kids. Uhh what else do I have...I feel like I’m rummaging for loose change here...

assorted valentines prep doodles

8. What is your favourite piece that you have done?

Well, obviously this is gonna change all the time and generally it’s gonna be my most recent piece LOL. So yeah, why the hell not. I’ll say it’s this one. I have a pretty short memory which I count as a blessing for an artist. I don’t dwell that long on older work and it keeps me moving forward.

10. What do you like most about your art?

I like that it’s something that only I would make! I had this thought fairly recently and I wrote it down in my sketchbook, it’s pretty cheesy and rambling but it felt revolutionary at the time:

So yeah. I like my art best when it’s the most me and for me. And I like it least when it feels like I’m just making something for social media or for other people’s expectations or whatever.

14. What do you like drawing the most?

Kids in baggy clothing are like my go-to LOL idk if that’s obvious. but also I like being challenged so lately I’ve really loved drawing multi-character compositions, environments, weird angles, etc.

oh i LOVE drawing the underside of shoes lol. And bandages. People that are kinda beat up.. I think it comes from getting a bunch of cuts all the time. I’m always patching myself up and I want to patch characters up too.

15. What do you like drawing the least?

mmm I try to find something to like in every drawing but lets see... I don’t like doing commissions of people’s dogs. Just because it’s normally like... a family friend and my mom volunteered me without my consent and I don’t even really know what they’re expecting me to draw and I don’t even get to meet the dog. Also I’m not that great at dog anatomy. Trying to learn though.

18. What is your purpose for drawing?

This could have a million answers! Uhhh to GIT GOOD??? But also to express myself... and also to make money... I mean it depends on what the drawing IS. I draw fanart mostly to connect to people in the fandom so if you ever see me drawing fanart please take it as like an open invitation to talk to me about the character haha. 

20. How would you rank your art? (poor, mediocre, good, etc.)

Good!!! I have a lot of self-confidence primarily born out of ignorance and a short attention span. If I don’t think too hard about how many other artists are mindblowingly unfathombly good... its easy to think I’m good too! LOL

In all seriousness though, I think the opinion a person has of their art is like a crazy balancing act, right? Like you have to think you suck enough to want to get better but also you have to think you’re good enough to not want to give up. I think we’re all walking that line, I know I am! But also I’m a glass half-full type of person so. Most of the time I feel good about it.

22. List at least one of your “artspirations.”

This is a good question because I’ve been trying and failing to put together one of those “influence map” memes for like a full month now. What’s giving me a hard time is I feel like none of these are actually really obvious “““influences”““ in my art? Like it’s hard to see a lot of them in the work I make...? But idk maybe you guys’ll see what I can’t.

And these are just a couple! God there’s so many more. I could talk about other artists for ages, from all different genres of art. Daumier, Rockwell like every illustrator out there, Dana Gibson, Alex Toth, Hiroshi Yoshida, a lot of the Brandywine School. Lots of current working artists too, Karl Kerschl, frikkin Masashi Kishimoto lol, Jake Wyatt, Richie Pope, Edouard Caplain, Matt Cook, Sachin Teng, - lots of big internet artists, Sophie Li, Freddy Carrasco, Milliofish, Angela Sung... like all my friends from art school too. I could just keep going but I’ll stop for now lol.

24. Do you have a shameful art past? (recolour sprite comics, tracing art, etc.)

I mean if that’s how we’re defining shameful?? sure LOL. It’s not sprite comics but I used to do pokemon sprite recolors all the time. And I used to trace manga panels and color them... Granted this was all when I was like under 12 yrs old so it’s not even embarrassing. Can you really call it shameful when a 7 year old wets the bed or whatever? Not really. In fact some of these are cool as fuck. Look

25. Draw a picture!

Man I’m so tired now but here.

I used to get a lot of compliments for drawing people smiling lol but I don’t think I’ve drawn a lot of smiling lately.. here’s proof I’ve still got it.

OK MEME DONE. onto the rest.

I read this ask first thing when i opened my computer in the morning and it made me really emotional.. I’m so glad my sketches could help you!!

I think a lot of artists on social media talk about the struggle of making art but imo not enough people talk about the joy! Like I know it’s corny but. I really meant what I said at the beginning of that sketchbook about re-contextualizing art around process and progress > product and perfection. I think its super important..! The strength of messy, unfinished, and energetic art! For the feeling of it, for the love it!

That's crazy!!! I hope you like 'em. The whole line of x-books is really good rn imo.

Hi! I totally have the answer for digital stuff on my faq lol. But in terms of drawing on paper.. it varies! I tend to use sketchbooking and any on-paper doodling I do as a way to loosen up/warm-up or experiment. But right now my go-to aresenal is:

from top > bottom

- kuretake no.55 doublesided brush pen

- tombow fudenosuke

- muji 0.38 ballpoint

- medium size poscas

- grey tombow double brush pens

- good ol bic mechanical pencil

not EXACTly sure which inking you referring to from my sketchbook but if I had to take a guess it'd probably be the kuretake no55. That's been my main inker, lately. Great for sketching with the thin end too.

You can print out and eat my art if you like. Just please don't mass produce or re-sell. <3

Thanks! I've come to accept that my art is always gonna be sort of gestural and painty naturally. It's getting it to tighten up enough to be legible that's hard lol...

uh yeah lol I agree actually. I think yolei is great.

I assume these asks are related? LOL

1) Yeah totally true. I love David.

2) I don’t take requests, sorry! But if you want to commission me to draw Legion i would be MORE than happy to. Just e-mail me at isellhotdogs@gmail.com.

<33333333333333333333333333

[jiminrings]

Hello hello 🥺 I miss Hobi nd I just wanted to request a drabble piece with him as a teacher and your also a teacher and somehow??some students??? Ship you two??? And the next thing you know, they're trying to get you two together and oh boy...chaos ensues :') there's no pressure 🤗🤗 stay safe Hannah! 💞💞

base line

pairing: hoseok x y/n

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: hoseok swears that you’re intolerable, but maybe that’s just because you don’t greet him good morning like you usually do :D // gif isn’t mine!!

notes: my first hobi drabble!!! thank u for requesting and waiting babie!!! this threw me back to when i was in preschool and one of my earliest memories ever was me being a teacher’s pet and being able to read straightly and coherently :D (i am a mess now hee-hee)

you love your job

YOU LOVE YOUR JOB!!!!

YOU LOVE YOUR JOB!!!!!!!!

you shouldn’t even call it a job if you’re genuinely enjoying what you do, right??

there’s just some days that you feel like you’re going to sit down the puzzle-matted floor in the middle of the class, tuck your head in between your knees, and sCREAM then yeet yourself out to the corridor

ok but listen

you really do!!

you studied for this!! you have a degree!!! you have a license!!! being a preschool teacher has been the career path you’ve always wanted to take!!

you like being around kids in general and taking care of them and teaching them!!

your age gap with your older brother isn’t exactly small and that meant that growing up, you had to keep up with him!!

because FUCK coloring books and building blocks :-) let me read your textbooks :-) i can’t read but i wOuld like to pretend and bond with u

jin has kids of his own and since it’s only the two of you, that automatically meant that you’re the favorite aunt!! well because after all you are the only one

you’re young and you’re hip and you watch animated shows still!! you can resOnate with them!!!

seokjin can’t make his two-year old eat his steamed carrots but YOU can!!

aha you have now established power <3

but ya know,,,

being a teacher is different from being an aunt!! it’e worlds apart because not everything that applies to your nephews and nieces, also applies to other kids necessarily

obviously you can’t treat every kid to the park once they master their ABCs and can grip a pencil properly

you’re just exhausted ok!! it doesn’t make you love your job any less

it’s just as simple as that

wait actually no

there is ONE more hiccup in your job and at this point, the thought of it plagues your mind beyond your place of work

not it

h i m

jung hoseok — your co-teacher!!

your co-teacher that helps you in handling a batch of fifteen preschool kids for hours, two batches a day, five days a week

hoseok whose hair smells like vanilla and flowers and is never not wearing an article of beaded jewelry and has the good voice that could make three to five year olds listen

.,.,. hoseok.,.,.,. who isn’t yours.,.,.,

and hoseok.,.,., who probably hates you.,.

you’re not trying to make a reach but you FEEL it,,,, you feel it in your knees and your spleen that oh god your co-teacher probably resents you and just tolerates you to not make the kids worry :((

it doesn’t certainly help too that uhm

well

aha

... you may have a tiny crush on hoseok

maybe you really do like him or oR!!

or maybe you just see him practically like everyday and you find yourself paying more attention to him and finding details that you normally wouldn’t find for any other person besides him but-

“good morning, hoseok!!”

you mostly make french toast every morning because:

a) you’d probably eat it as often as you could until you could no longer look at it anymore and practically barf at even the mention of it

b) baby it’s EASY

c) you can make it as a batch and that way you won’t have to wake up every morning to cook for yourself

d) tastes immaculatE whether warm or cold

e) jungkook gave you his recipe after nagging him everyday for a month <3

you knew how to make it in the first place but uh well,,,.,,

jungkook is jin’s regular babysitter for his kids and he’s very organized although you won’t admit that

he’s carefree but like disciplined at the same time y’know

like YES eunji you can take a sip of my orange juice that ur appa told me not to give you BUT you need to drink one whole sippy cup of water okay??? say yes uncle goo

and he’d also have snacktimes and he’d make his own and french toast is one of them

one time you came over and babysitted with jungkook and u snuck out a piece from eunji’s bowl and wow

𝔀𝓸𝔀

every time you came over you’d make him cook and he’s all??? 

“y/n are you SURE eunji told you she wants two bowls of french toast?? to herself?? are you sURE???”

lmao he’s figured it out late that it was you who kept eating the french toast because he peeked at the bowl and then??? eunji’s mouth doesn’t bite THAT big?? 

not unless a toddler’s mandible is already that big and he’s been wrong all along 

so the french toast?? yeah you put it in your cute tupperware with the cute waterproof stickers in the lid

AND SPLIT HALF WITH HIM

one loaf is to four squares and two of those are for hoseok :D

minor problem tho

he doesn’t take up your offer :((

maybe it’s just yOU who’s the problem at this point because you tried bringing other food and ?? he just shakes his head no and gives you a curt smile

every morning, you greet him!!

“good morning, hobi!!”

you call him that because that’s what jimin and namjoon call him since they’re your co-teachers!!!

... although maybe it’s just for friends of his only...... a-and well maybe you aren’t his friend

.... aha anywAys!!

you leveled it up a notch and switch up your greetings

“good morning handsome!!” or like “heeeeey cutie!!” or maybe even “hi sunshine!!!”

you: :D

him: :|

every afternoon, you ask him if he wants anything from the vending machine in the faculty room

every month, the principal gives tHREE bottomless cards to the best-performing teachers and that basically meant you don’t have to pull bills from your wallet to pay for overpriced soda

you’ve gotten it twice consecutively in the last month

free pass or not, if hoseok finally tells you what he wants from the vending machine, then you’d get it for him in a heartbeat and less

vending machine talks r some of the best talks and you want that :((

sometimes he’ll tell you that he’s full, or shake his head no, or semi-rudely glances at you and sets his head down and that translates to no

every weekend, you ask him if he feels ____ because you totally have that in ur apartment

“it feels a bit hot, no? good thing i have a new airconditioning unit :D”

no you don’t have a new airconditioning unit

you just had jin clean out the filters while you were at work and it’s basically the same thing, right??

pls say right

you’re basically FLIRTING with him

and you feel useless about it because you haven’t made any progress whatsoever no matter your approach :((

at first you didn’t feel embarrassed whenever namjoon pointed out your crush on hoseok

in fact, the whole faculty knows but you’re just gonna ignore that

you didn’t feel like a FOOL because it’s hoseok you’re making strides towards to

he’s worth the embarrassment that you don’t feel at all

and he doesn’t notice and doesn’t care and he probably won’t talk to you if you are the only preschool teacher in this school besides himself

you’re starting to feel the secondhand embarrassment joon always points out to you multiplied to five

oh god what you’re doing is LAUGHABLE

it’s even more painful to look at yourself in a third perspective because you look like an utter fool chasing after him and all he does is push you away

you’re tired of trying 

it’s okay :)

hoseok looks like someone who’d tell all about your doings to his groupchat and they’d laugh at you together

wait no that’s quite a reach

you’re probably not even tHAT important to be made fun of in the gc :((

fine then

you’re gonna focus on everyone and everything else besides him -- it’s not like he’s even gonna notice anyway!! not that it’d matter

if hoseok can sleep at night peacefully without even acknowledging you, then you could sleep at night without him crossing your mind

sike

you kept thinking about not thinking of hobi last night that in return you did think about him

but that is the LAST time ok

you’re gonna start tallying this morning

wait a minute!! you don’t have to tally because you genuinely need to not care and be indifferent!! 

....

oh....

wait this was easier than you expected

you feel a weight out of your chest when you kept your eyes on the ground when you passed by hoseok in the hall

you felt nervous initially because you never skip a day of not being all googly-eyes for him but you know!!!! this was actually nice!!!!

for a change yOu’re the one who’s unaffected and as cold as it sounds -- 

it feels good to not care :D

“up please!! up!!” 

you’re feeling so zen and un-dejected that you forget for a moment that you’re still in class and yOU’RE the teacher

and it’s hyunjin!! one of the younger kids in class

also he’s quite the troublemaker and intentionally likes teasing you and being play-mad at him makes him giggle to no end

he does nOt vibe with hoseok he’d jus keep a straight face on and ??? no ur not teacher y/n

he’s tugging at whatever he could reach and if he turns out to be holding a marker in his hands then you might just Pass Away

you comply to hyunjin’s request but you know you’re gonna put him down in two seconds because you know that the other kids are gonna see and-

yeah nevermind

it’s now a carrying train :D

you just made up that name on the spot

it’s a line of kids going up to your arms, and then you passing them to hoseok, and then putting them down to the ground and them running back to the line again until everyone’s satisified

bAsically you’re passing around kids and it’s hoseok who calls off the game because you have no backbone sometimes when it comes to four-year olds

throughout the whole time though, hobi feels like something’s wrong

he just can’t place it

he’s trying to sniff so hard if someone had a toilet accident and he can’t smell anything??

maybe his shoelaces skipped a hole??

either way there’s just something wrong in the back of his head

anyways he better snap out of his daze before you ask if he’s okay or if he needs anything

..

....

........

why are you not looking at him

....

......

....

wAIT WHY ARE YOU NOT LOOKING AT HIM

huh

that’s weird

but you always look at him??? and he can see you in his peripheral vision and this time he can’t even see you glancing when his head’s turned????

hmmm

omg

his prayer’s been answered!!

honestly hoseok finds you kinda annoying and he’d like it if you just leave him alone and stuff and give up whatever it is that you’re doing

you finally got the message :D

yeah that’s good :D

hoseok’s okay he’s cool he’s happy he totally feels complete

“let’s stop now?”

hobi leans in to tell you because he counted and this is hyunjin’s third time on him

you’re kinda lost because he stops this game in his own accord but whatever

you just give him a smile and what’s THAT supposed to mean???

“oh sO do you want another round?? or??”

he’s enunciating it for you but it’s more for him actually

you just wave him off

.... communication.... where is it

he’s gathering the facts so far.

you’re not looking at him!! that’s fine

you didn’t call him handsome but hEh he’s handsome even if you don’t call him that

not that he needs comforting words and compliments.. or whatever...

that he can let pass because he doesn’t really care

but what he dOES care about is why are you not offering him anything right now???

where.,., WHERE is his french toast

he’s been putting his hand on his tummy for the past five minutes and rubbing it in circles and he’s ALSO humming every now and then

jimin’s lost as he’s writing his agenda for the week and hobi’s across him looking constipated and relieved at the same time

aHEM

ok what’s happening now

you’re... not trying to wedge into the same table he’s in.. ?

you plop right next to namjoon and he instantly throws his arm around yours because he’s been looking for you too

“hey!! how did your recipe night go??”

you reckon that joon allotted another evening for trying out new things because it helps him destress!!

he shudders just by thinking about the smell in his apartment and how opening the windows didn’t do shit

“tasted so bad i couldn’t even eat it :((“

mug cake is the actual devil!!!

imagine having to crack an egg along with a couple other things in a mug and cook it in a microwave and it doesn’t turn as good as the ones you’d see in youtube videos

congrats you now have bread stuck in a mug that smells like chocolate but tastes absolutely nothing like raw eggs

there’s an irritable scowl on his face and great now hobi just feels worse

it’s been almost a week

and practically everyone knows that something’s wrong going on with him and they don’t know wHY

some people dO have an inkling though,.,.

“ah, what seems to be troubling my best teacher?”

principal min drawls out as soon as hoseok enters his office before rolling his eyes at him

normally in other schools you’d be fIRED if you disrespect the principal but nah :D

yoongi takes pride in being the cool principal

he’s so cool that everyone’s in a first-name basis with him

he’s not your typical principal!! normally they’d be preppy and he’s not that much but when he sees the kids??? immediately goes soft

“you say that to EVERY teacher”

lol everybody knows that but no one points it out

he’s so grumpy that even the principal took notice of his behavior!!!

“there’s nothing wrong, okay??”

hobi says it in more of a scoff and that just goes against what he said

yoongi’s sitting here,,, eating his plain loaf of bread aND minding his own business,, and then now hoseok’s mad at him??

“don’t show me bread sTOP showing me bread!!”

the next day hobi’s so grouchy <3

there’s a circle that the kids are in and it just keeps going in and out

you and hobi are in the middle and each time they sing, the circle keeps getting sMALLER

now normally y/n from a week ago would blush to death

but present y/n just feels awkward and kinda :// at the whole situation

it’s not really a tight squeeze tbh but hoseok kEEPS going forward torwards you to the point that his arms around you already

he’s obviously flustered and he’s trying to recompose himself but you’re barely meeting his eye contact

okay now that hurt

god he’s just so left behind with what’s going on :((

and he won’t say this now but fUck he misses you!!! a lot!!!! he feels like pavlov’s dog and he’s automatically wired to miss your affection whenever he’s aware of your presence

does he uhm

does he l-word you??

“and that’s it!”

you’ve just finished teaching them how to fold a paper boat :D

that is a BIG achievement okay you’re actually serious

it teaches them how to be more patient and pay more attention!!

“you can give them your mom!! or if you have a tiny crush on someone in the room then-...”

lil seungmin steps right up to give you a boat

yes it’s wonky and the folds aren’t really done properly and won’t float in water but wow!!! that’s so cute!!!

you immediately thank him and ruffle his hair 

he’s such a cute kid omg 

“thank you s-...”

however hyunjin wOn’t be affected by that

with a huff does he march over to you and his long hair’s getting in the way (hobi just tied it awhile ago) but nO that is not important rn

he gives TWO paper boats but the other one he just stole it from jisung lmao

the kids are catching up and sUddenly it’s a competition to who gives who paper boats

there’s a fair share of boats between you and hoseok

you’re awed bc wow they really did learn and yOU taught them and it’s just so fulfilling to see wonky wittle boats :’’)

“give to who??”

the tiny felix sitting by your side tugs at your shirt and he’s pointing to the boat you made yourself sitting on your palm

“o-oh!”

how did you get put in the spot by preschool kids

oKAY definitely not hobi

maybe you can call namjoon from the other room???? or maybe even yoongs and-

the sudden shrieking in the room brings you down from your thoughts and you’re quite frantic trying to catch up

the commotion?? ur palm

hobi himself folded a crane!!

:)

and it’s sitting snugly in your palm

:)

he’s been feeling so lost the past week and he realized that it’s because of yOU and how he’s so dense to drive you away when all he wants to do is keep you close

hobi’s never really beamed at you directly like that before

you might just cry

hyunjin’s kicking the air and so does every kid who has googly eyes for their teacher 

but it’s okay 

it’s all okay because hobi’s looking at you the way you look at him and he’s the most gentle and pleasing thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on

it’s his turn to put his chin against his palm, a knowing smile on his face before he asks

“do you feel chilly tonight?”

[formeandmyfics]

Jugenea Fan Fic

WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OUT

When the power goes out while filming a scene for Summer Stock, Judy and Gene use the extra time to get back into their old ways...

January 1950

MGM

“Oh, what the hell?!”

Charles Walters yelled as the entire soundstage went pitch black.  

“Cut!”

“What happened,” Judy’s distinctive voice asked surprised as she sat in a chair, opposite of a kneeling Gene, in the dressing room set of their current production Summer Stock.

“Blown fuse, I think,” Gene replied standing up.  

Visible sunlight light was scene from the cracks of the large steel doors of the soundstage, but that was it.

“Somebody get some damn flashlights, come on!”

“Charlie’s sounding more like Buzz B,” Joe Pasternak said as he walked near the couple, as Charles walked away.

“We have some lanterns and flash lights in the closet over there,” a lighting tech shouted.

“Where the fuck is the generator?!”

Again, Charles’ yell echoed from further away now. His cursing made Judy giggle. She’d known the man for years, and only counting on one hand, had she heard him say the F-word.

“Ooo, he is angry,” Joe replied.

“He was already having a bad day, this just twisted his last nut,” Gene said to his producer buddy.

“Excuse me,” Judy interrupted casually.

“Hey,” Gene said quickly grabbing her hand, “Where you going?”

“To my dressing room.”

“In the dark?”

“Yeeees, Gene,” she said sighing.

“Why?”

“Because I want to. We’re obviously not finishing the scene right now.”

“Well, do you want me to...”

She immediately cut him off, “I have an emergency lantern in there. I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright,” she simply said and walked off.  

“I think that’s a tell-tale sign of a lady who wants to be left alone, huh,” Joe said teasingly.  

“Yeah, but that’s not like her, not with me.”

Pasternak heard the serious tone in Gene’s voice and he placed a hand on his back, “You know how it’s been for her doing this. She’s just tired.”  

“Hey, Joe, come give me a hand with this,” a man said and he immediately walked over.

The woman was practically living with him at his apartment, now publicly and officially separated from Vince, so he watched her closely, as in a type of protection knowing how vulnerable she was doing this film after her mental and physical progress in Boston.  

She was getting a lot of rest, a full night’s sleep even, which made her late to work most of the time. Of course they all didn’t mind. And the times she didn’t show up, she was resting from anxiety. He knew what was what where she was concerned. And she was perfectly fine today. This was something else, and he had a feeling it had something to do with him.  

“Well, damn,” Kay Thompson said in her usual brass voice as she came through Judy’s on-set dressing room door, “When I came to say ‘hi’, I didn’t know I’d be walking into a game of Marco Polo.”  

Judy dimly smiled at her friend as she pounded a carton of cigarettes against her palm.

“Oh, good, they’re opening the stage door,” Kay said as she turned to shut the door, “Now I won’t have to worry about tripping over some damn wires on my way out.”

As Judy lit a cigarette, her small dressing room filled with the lanterns light, Kay sat down on the twin-sized day bed next to Judy’s make up vanity where she sat.

“When did the lights go out in Georgia?”

“Oh, not ten minutes ago.”

“It’s after 3. Have you not filmed anything yet?”

“Yes, finished the first part of our scene with Marge.”

“Then what are you wearing?”

“This is my costume,” Judy said with a giggle as she tugged on her blue robe.

“Oh,” Kay let out a chuckle, “Too bad that’s not all the time.”

“I know. It’s quite a bit more comfy this way.”

“And easy access.”

“For what,” Judy asked absent-minded as she offered Kay a cigarette which she shook her head at.

“For what,” Kay asked a bit shocked, “For a little in-between takes romp. It’s much easier to do than with all those layers and poofs and such from the other film’s costumes.”

Judy licked her lips as she pounded out her fresh cigarette which got Kay’s attention immediately, “Hey, if you’ve told me you were going to waste a perfectly good Marlboro, I would have taken it.”

“Then have one already,” Judy said offering her one which this time she took.

Kay lit it and crossed her legs, “You know, I’m surprised Gene isn’t in here right now, especially with the lights out and such. Might be fun,” she said wiggling her eyebrows.

Judy ignored her and checked the desk-clock on the corner of the table, “Gee, I hope they get things going, or at least dismiss us. I don’t want to sit here for the rest of the God-damn day.”

“You said it’s only been ten minutes, Judy,” the blonde stated calmly, exhaling the smoke. She knew the signs of when the star was getting irritated.

“Well, how long does it take to flip the breaker or turn on a generator?”

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean,” Judy said, looking at her almost offended and self-conscious at the same time.

Kay’s red lips turned upwards in a calming, but amusing smile, “What’s bothering you, and don’t say the freaking lights.”

When Judy gave her a sly glance before turning back to the mirror, Kay spoke up in true girl-friend fashion, “Fine, if you don’t want to tell me, I can take a hint. I’ll leave you be for now, but I’m sure this has something to do with Gene..”

She started to get up, but Judy quickly grabbed her arm sitting her back down with a plop.

“Jesus, why do you have to come in here and start talking about him like he’s still a secret lover. Everyone’s known about us since I came back from Boston.”

“Why is it bothering you so much?”

“Because he’s my boyfriend. We’re not how we used to be.”  

“So?”

“Soo,” Judy emphasized, “He doesn’t come in here and start tackling me in between scenes like you so candidly suggested.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, Kay,” Judy said in a dark tone, “Why don’t you go ask him?”

“Ooo,” Kay smiled, “Alright, so *that’s* what’s bothering you,” when she saw Judy give her a look that did not deny her statement, she leaned forward, “Alright, spill.”

Gene stood off the side of the breaker, holding his elbow as he bit impatiently on his thumb nail, softly swaying side-to-side, as the men failed in fixing the problem. After a second try, and another failed attempt, Gene held up his watch toward the light coming from the open sound stage door and checked his watch. He didn’t want to be there all day. He and Judy had dinner plans at the Derby with some friends.

“Hi there, legs,” Gene heard as Kay walked up behind him, a nickname she gave since seeing him do his Pirate ballet dance.

“Oh, hi there yourself,” he chuckled and gave her a peck on the lips, “What are you doing here, doll?”

“Came to play hide-and-go-seek in the dark, apparently.”

“Yeah, our power went out in the middle of a scene. Still no luck.”

“I see that.”  

“Judy’s in her dressing room, if you’re looking for her.”

“One step ahead of you, babe.”

Gene looked at her curious, “How’s she doing?”

“That’s a funny question.”

“Why?”

“Because you were just filming scene together. Not to mention, you two nearly live together. I should be asking you the same question.”

Gene shrugged, “I only asked because she’s been a little preoccupied from me lately. You know what I mean? I can’t put my finger on it, but I think it’s just what she’s going through with working her ass through this picture.”

When he saw the almost naughty expression on Kay’s face, her lips pressed together, looking down amused, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Kay...what do you know?”

“Come here,” she chuckled and they walked away from earshot.  

Gene crossed his arms and leaned his body forward a bit, all ears and she lowered her voice, “Let me ask you this. Are you still excited with Judy?”

“What do you mean,” off her knowing look he realized what she was referring to with ‘excited’ and he stepped back with an appalled expression, “Oh, Jesus, of course I am. Why the hell are you asking me that?”  

She put her hands up, and was about to speak, when he stopped, “What did she say to you? And if she said otherwise, then she’s a damn liar or a damn good actress in the sac.”  

“Gene, calm down,” she laughed.

“I’ve been with that girl since she was nineteen. I know her and her body, and let me tell you, she enjoys herself. So, whatever she said, she’s looking for damn attention.”

“Wow. Our manhood’s pride is a little sensitive right now.”

“I don’t even know why we’re discussing this. I’m done...”  

He went to walk but she stepped in front of him and put her hand up to his chest, “Would you just shut up and listen? My God, the lights go out and you and Judy’s overacting hits it’s the roof. Save it for the cameras.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Judy didn’t complain to me about that. She just is a little disappointed.”

“Disappointed? In me,” he asked nearly in shock.

She shrugged, “Not in that way at all, darling. She just feels like ever since you two came out to everyone with your relationship, and especially her living with you half the time, that it’s not...” she tried to find the right word as to not set Gene off again, or hurt him, “...as exciting as it used to be before this.”  

“But what do you mean by exciting? We’re officially an item now. We can go out together, we can be together at my place freely, we don’t have to sneak around...”

“And she loves that you’re both official now. She specifically told me that. She loves that you two can come home together multiple times in the week and you can go out together with the kids like a family. But I think she misses the secret stuff.”

Gene paused a moment, realizing, and spoke up curiously, “Did she say that?”

“Not in that way. She said she misses the spontaneity. She’s a little confused with herself because she’s wanted to be with you out in the open for so long, but now that she has it, she misses the excitement of sneaking around. I think she might be afraid that the relationship might turn dull, like it did with Vince. She wants to keep things alive, her words.”

“Oh,” Gene chuckled and covered his face with his hand, “That silly, silly girl,” he sighed and looked up shaking his head at another one of Judy’s ideocracies that never failed to amaze him, “God, I love her so much.”

“We both know it’s not true, that you’ll...”

“Fizzle out,” he interrupted with a chuckle.

She nodded, “But you know how she is with her insecurity.”

“Well,” he stated thinking before biting his lower lip, “Then I better do something about it.

Judy walked slowly around the soundstage, feeling antsy. She didn’t speak to anyone as she did so. Her mind was elsewhere. Others stood around talking as crew continued on trying the generator. With her hand grasping her opposite wrist behind her, she had glanced around for Gene as she mindlessly walked but didn’t see him.  

When the generator made a loud sound from one side of the room and then a group of crew members suddenly erupted into laughter, sounding rowdy, at the other side, Judy felt a little sensitive to all the noise. She made her way to the back of the set, still minding her own business. Back there, it was darker, not pitch black, but more quiet. Leaning on the back of the wooden wall, she sighed, as if relishing in the sudden escape of it all.  

Just then the entire studio made a loud sound as the power went back on, enveloping the set in very bright lights. Judy was behind the set, but the head lights were very bright above her, she had to squint.  

She pushed herself off the wall and took a few steps to head back around when the power failed again. She could hear everyone’s groans, and some colorful language again from Charlie.  

Before Judy could react, Gene rounded the corner, but he stopped short when they made eye contact. She smiled a bit, to acknowledge him, but her smile faded when she saw the expression on his face.  

He was looking at her with intensity, almost...primal...and sexy. She was taken back by it and a little alarmed. She didn’t know what she had done, but he didn’t look happy.  

Then he headed towards her, slowing his steps the closer he got. His chest was heaving. Judy didn’t feel like backing away, didn’t need to, she knew who she was dealing with, even if he was about to yell at her for something.  

In one fast movement, he took her wrists, took a step forward, and pinned them above her head onto the wall as she was backed up into it.  

Judy slightly gasped, no control over her reaction. As his face hovered over hers, she swallowed and looked down at his lips. Was he upset? She didn’t feel scared by any means. Was he going to kiss her? He just stood there not moving.  

“Gene,” she whispered stunned.

“Shhh,” he whispered back. She could smell the menthol from his cigarette on her lips.  

Judy’s eyes became bigger, asking him silently what he was doing, but he ignored it. Coming in close to her lips, Gene saw her eyes close, awaiting his kiss, but he ignored that, too.  

He left a kiss on her chin then moved to her cheek, and with his free hand, he placed it on her jaw, moving her head back so he could kiss down her throat.  

Judy couldn’t help the tiny whimper escape her lips as he left some delicious open-mouth kisses on her neck. Oh, he felt heavenly. He stopped at the ‘v’ of her robe and brought his face back up to hers. He felt a rush of adrenaline as she still had her eyes closed and her lips parted. Opening them, she was staring straight into his. He felt her move her arms, but then his hold got stronger.  

“Don’t move,” he whispered against her lips, which were dangerously close.

He traced his finger down her cheek, down her neck and down the lining of her robe costume. Resting his forehead against hers, his fingertip traced the curve of her breast through the material. He knew she had a slip on underneath the robe, but the robe wasn’t very thick material, and neither were her camisoles.  

After tracing her breast around her nipple, teasing her, he finally went over it. Then again. And again. Her nipple getting more firmer under his touch made his cock harden.  

The more his finger went back and forth over her, made her arousal even stronger between her legs. When he did the same to the other one, she felt herself suddenly get wet and she unsteadily gasped in some air, a little sound with it. She was instantly aroused, and by such little touch, that it excited and surprised her. She could feel Gene’s hard on getting more profound himself, which also excited her.  

Judy bit her bottom lip suggestively, trying to make eye contact with him. When Gene’s head lifted off her forehead, her eyes quickly darted to the corner where they both had walked around, making sure no one saw them. She knew what he wanted, and my goodness she wanted it, too.

His hand slid to her lower back and he pressed his nose against hers at the same time pushed his lower body into her as well. When she instinctively moved her wrists again, Gene let them go. His other hand reached up and their fingers connected on each side of her head. She leaned her face forward to finally kiss him, but he pulled back. She tried again, he pulled back again. Judy moved her hands to grab at him, but he pinned them back against the wall again, with a slight bang, his fingers still connected in hers.

Judy found his roughness sexy amusing, and she couldn’t help but let out a surprised giggle. It made him smile. He was having fun, too.  

Oh, God, that mouth, he thought. Sure, he even got a passionate kiss from her that morning, but in arousal, her lips and mouth were like a new exploration each time...as were the sounds she made before and during sex.  

Gene leaned forward to her mouth again and she closed her eyes, instantly opening her mouth. He hovered there a moment, his mouth parted slightly, ready to take her.

“WE GOT IT!”

Judy and Gene both jumped apart a bit startled when the soundstage lights went back on.

“Generator is up and running,” they heard a lighting tech yell.

“Let’s get this scene done before the damn generator goes out, too,” Charle’s voice was heard getting closer to the set.

Judy and Gene both looked at each other. They didn’t look amused, or disappointed. They shared an understanding look: they were aroused but had to get back to work. It hadn’t been the first time they’d been interrupted in this regard.

“Where the hell did Judy and Gene go? Can someone go find ‘em?!”

Judy glanced up at Gene, as she smoothed out her robe, but Gene turned his back to her and took a few steps away. She knew he needed a minute to ‘de-escalate’ , so she quickly darted out from the corner before people came searching.

“Oh, there you are, sweetheart,” Joe said standing next to Charles.

“Here I am,” she returned in a chipper voice.

“We’re gonna try to get this scene done before the damn generator fails again. Are you ok with that?”

“Of course.”

“Where’s Gene,” Joe asked.

“Uh, he’ll be here shortly. He’s finishing a cigarette.”

“He can finish the cigarette after. We’re way behind. GENE! WE’RE WAY BEHIND!”

Judy wrapped her arms around Charle’s arm, giving him her best Dorothy voice, “He’s been under a lot of strain too, let him finish his cigarette, hm?”

“Ya, alright,” Charlie said melting under her spell, “Go check yourself so we’re ready when he’s done.”

“Yes, Sir,” she teased saluting him.

As Judy got her hair and makeup retouched, Gene reappeared. The two didn’t even exchange looks until they entered the scene.

Neither knew how they got through it, but they did. And they did it in only two takes, with no mess ups on their lines. In character, the scene was sweet, genuine and full of love. Inside, they were both burning.

When Joe leans in to kiss Jane’s cheek, Judy took an intake of breath, holding her breath as she did so. She didn’t intend to. She could see the sparkle in Gene’s eyes as he leaned back, but as much a sparkle, there was also such adoration. And that turned her on even more.

“Good luck,” he said softly.

Judy took a second to respond, her heart bursting, “Good luck.”

“ANDDD CUT! PERFECT! PRINT!”

Everyone applauded.

“That’s it for today everyone. Great job and thank you for all your help,” Charles said before turning to his stars.

“Judy, baby, that was amazing,” he said giving her kiss on the cheek. “Gene, my man, great job,” he continued and shook his hand.

Judy smiled, looking anxious, as she glanced at Gene.  

“Remember, no filming tomorrow, but you have a pre-record of ‘All For You’. That's at noon.”

“Is that all you need from me?”

“That’s it, baby.”

Without another word, Judy left their side. Gene knew where she was headed.

“See you Monday, Charlie,” Gene said with a slap on his back before following Judy.  

Without knocking, Gene opened the door with Judy Garland monogrammed in cursive on it, before slamming it shut and locking it behind him.

The early evening sky had a hue of orange above MGM as Judy and Gene walked out of the large stage door.  The air was crisp and cool and the lot was clearing of players and crew as dinnertime approached.  

The two didn’t speak as they left the soundstage, they didn’t rush either. Their steps were lazily, as was Gene’s arm that hung over her shoulder. She even rest her head back on it, as they comfortably walked together.  

Judy could feel her cheeks still flushed from their rendezvous', but she didn’t care.  She felt absolutely satisfied, though her back thighs were a little sore where Gene’s hands had grabbed at her skin there, his fingertips digging into her flesh, keeping her in place, as he ground into her against her dressing room wall. She didn’t feel it at the time, all she felt was him fucking her to orgasm, and all those other feelings of being with him that went with it.  

Gene smiled slightly when he felt Judy rest her head against his arm. He knew she was as spent as he was. It still amazed him that after all these years different encounters with her affected different reactions in him. They had made love two days ago yet his sexual feelings towards, and the sex, felt like he had gone weeks without it. He had to admit, he hadn’t realized how much he missed those spontaneous, and secret, encounters with her, ones that their relationship had been built on. He didn’t know how they managed to stay as quiet as they did as they were both equally turned on and had such a strong release.  

Gene couldn’t help but chuckle recalling how his legs gave out and he fell back onto her makeup chair, with her straddling him. She didn’t stop either, grinding back and forth, whispered whimpers coming out of her mouth over and over until she came. Oh, God, she felt so fucking good. Holding her, he stood her up and placed her on the makeup vanity, almost topping the bulb mirror over, pumping into her until he came himself.  There was a perfectly fine twin-sized daybed next to them, but instead they picked every other object to fuck on.

“What’s gotten you so giddy,” Judy teased hearing him chuckle.

“Guess,” he said looking at her mischievously.

Judy’s giggle vibrated against his lips as he leaned down to kiss her a few times. As they kept walking, Judy noticed a few people staring their way. Though they were still both legally married to other people, everyone knew they were an item by now. But, it still never failed to get them some wide-eyed stares, whispers or naughty smiles from mutual friends.  

“You know something?”

“What?”

“I think that’s the first time we’ve kissed out in the open like this.”

“Is it? Here, let’s do it again,” he said and leaned down to kiss her again.  

“You’re crazy,” she giggled.

“You’re crazy, too, which makes us a good match.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“I’m not complaining at all, but what brought that on back there?”

Gene opened his mouth but then just nudged his shoulders and made an ‘I don’t know’ sound.

“What do you mean...” she then made the same sound he did.

“I felt like it.”

Judy kneaded her eyebrows looking at him skeptically, “We were filming a scene then you just decide you want to seduce me like you did?”

Gene couldn’t help the guilty laugh and embarrassed he rubbed the side of his face trying to hide it. But she knew when he was lying.

“What,” she laughed.

“Did you like it?”

“Well, of course I did.”

“Well, then, that’s all that matters.”

All of a sudden they heard a honk before Kay drove by waving. They waved back but Judy quickly opened her mouth looking at Gene. He saw it, and urged her to keep walking.

“Kay told you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, then, remind me to thank her later.”

“Honey,” he asked getting a little more serious now, “I gotta be honest with ya. You know, spending all the time together that we have since I got the apartment, it hadn’t even occurred to me to put some spontaneity in there. I mean, we’re definitely not routine, but I was just enjoying being able to be with you whenever I want now, without having to sneak around.”

“Gene, I...”

“No, listen, after what just happened, I didn’t realize how much I missed it. It does put the excitement in there, to keep up what we had for all those years. I know that sneaking around and being secret is what we’re built on, and it’s only natural to want to keep up some form of that. I will promise you though, nothing will ever get boring, not between us.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it. I was a little embarrassed because I never want to take for granted what we have now. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long.”

“Me, too.”

“And I felt guilty for missing encounters with you.”

“Never feel guilty for what you feel. But you have to talk to me about it so I know. And I mean this with everything. And vice versa. That way, any problem we do have, we can work out together.”

“Deal. And just so you know, it doesn’t always have to be that way. Even just sneaking into the shower once and a while is exciting enough.”

“You got a deal back,” he smiled, “Or in a car, that was always fun back in the day.”

“Not sure our backs could handle that now.”

“Well, I’m definitely going to make it and effort to keep having encounters like that, ‘cause, wooo boy...” he blew out a breath making his point how it made him feel and she cracked up.

Her cheeks turned even more red.

[a-crimson-lion]

Ultimatum: The Art of Lying In A Made Bed

(Or Why My Experience With Chapter 285 Is Contrary To Everyone Else's)

[Manga Spoilers Ahead. Also Opinions. Feel Free To Ignore.]

After Chapter 284, many fans were wondering how the story of BNHA would follow up on Katsuki's development. Now that Chapter 285 is officially out, fans are clamoring about Katsuki's latest acts of heroism, about how his arc is finally kicking it into high gear.

I'd be inclined to agree, but… you know how these things go.

[Heads up fans/stans, if you like Katsuki you might wanna bail. The word vomit that follows is pretty much incoherent and reflects my disaster of a thought process.]

I was looking forward to Chapter 285. I had my reservations on the execution of Chapter 284, but if the next chapter could follow it up and then some, I'd be pleasantly surprised. But then the leaks came out. And then the fan translation. And as of today, the official VIZ translation.

While everyone else is cheering for explosion boy, I'm just… done.

285 didn't get me to see how far Bakugo's journey has come. 285 didn't get me to finally root for him. And maybe I am making this decision prematurely, maybe I am missing something, but…

...the way things are going in the story I just- I just CAN'T root for him.

And I'm not saying the rest of you can't, if you're still reading. Katsuki is definitely a different person compared to Chapter 1, a better person, and he's definitely been heading on the up and up! If you can and want to support him, then by all means, go for it, don't let me stop you! It's just…

For me, chapter 284 was a wavering torch: a flicker of hope that sometimes dwindled, but was still there. Chapter 285 was the moment where I wanted to jump on the Katsuki Development Train, to finally gain some semblance of respect for him. But when I jumped, I landed on the tracks, and had to crawl back onto the platform.

I missed my chance to jump on that train. Whether it's because of previous circumstances or recent circumstances, I'll never know…

You probably wanna ask me at this point, "But Crimson, why DIDN'T Chapter 285 make you see the awe inspiring pinnacle of character development that is Katsuki Bakugo???"

To put it simply: it's a culmination thing.

For starters, there's a sort of… whiplash with Katsuki's development in the last few chapters. People like me will complain that Katsuki's development is too slow, in the case of the last 2-3 chapters, it feels like a switch was flipped, and now it's become too fast. Perhaps it's a me thing, but let me try to explain…

Shoto starts out as a standard background character. By the time he gets his spotlight in the Sports Festival, he comes off as reserved and antagonistic. After the whole "it's your power" moment, Shoto is finally able to accept the side he always hated. Then Katsuki fights Shoto, and we're shown he still needs time to grow; his left side comes with a lot of baggage he can't just brush off in the span of a single sparring match.

Fastforward to Hosu. Shoto's starting to take other people into better account. He's starting to learn to better control his fire. He's reconnected with his mother. His goal is no longer one-upping his old man; he has goals, people, that he wants to protect. He's coming into his own and wants others to do the same, like Tenya.

He joins the Katsuki Rescue Squad because, like Izuku, he had an opportunity to save Katsuki, didn't, and now he wants to make up for it. When we get to the Provisional License Exam, we're yet again slammed with the fact that his growth is still not done via Inasa, that there's still a bit of Endeavor he has to shake off, even if it was in the past. And he does progress towards that with the Remedial Course Arc. And while I have my opinions on the Endeavor Agency Arc, I'll admit that it was another development opportunity for Shoto and the Todoroki family. Shoto's growth comes with setbacks, but overall it's consistent.

Let's shift gears to Tenya, who's characterization I find fascinating. He starts out opposed to Izuku when they first meet at the Entrance Exam. He sees how Izuku is (for lack of a better phrase) "better qualified" at heroics thus far, reassesses his position, and apologizes whilst making amends. When Tenya resorts to LITERAL MURDER against Stain, the narrative does not let him go off without reprocussions. His arms are damaged, his supervisor's teaching license is revoked, and while he managed to avoid legal charges via police cover up, it still came close. Tenya listened to Stain's words, and opted to improve himself by that notion. He tries to set a better example, be a better class rep. It isn't a one and done.

Him lashing out during the Hideout Raid Arc is an offshoot of that. He doesn't deck Izuku just to be a dick; he's trying to knock some sense into him. They're so focused on Katsuki that they're forgetting about everyone else. Their friends, their teachers, their parents. If they f*** up like Tenya almost did at Hosu, they'll have hell to pay, and he doesn't want that. Of course, once they explain that combat/murder is not their M.O., Tenya tags along, if only to ensure the operation goes smoothly without this hitch. And again, Tenya keeps up. He looks after his classmates, looks after Izuku during the Shie Hassaikai arc. His growth is also consistent.

There are probably more characters I could elaborate on (Ochako, Momo, Eijiro, etc.), but I'll stop there. So, what's the deal with Katsuki's arc?

Well, it's… frustratingly back and forth.

It's one thing to have setbacks like Tenya and Shoto. It's something else entirely to have multiple setbacks and to keep trucking on with only abstract signs of development, but otherwise feeling like a very similar character compared to several chapters ago.

This is (in my opinion) Katsuki's problem. If we're going by what the manga stated, his arc technically started in Chapter 11: "Bakugo's Starting Line." But this is a rocky start. Izuku tells him about OFA right from the getgo out of guilt, but this neglects the fact that he's technically lying to everyone about it (including his new friends Ochako and Tenya), that OFA is a world-shattering secret, and that Katsuki is likely the worst person to tell this to considering that Izuku just handed Katsuki's ass to him and Katsuki was willing to use lethal force in their Trial. That aside, instead of say, sucking up his pride and opting to try and learn from everyone else, Katsuki doesn't really change strategies or approaches. He essentially does what he was planning to do since the start of UA; he's only crying because, SURPRISE, people are better than him. You'd think he'd expect that considering he called his middle school crappy…

After the USJ, once everyone had their "Lol Bakugo sux" moment on the bus ride, we get to the Sports Festival and everyone is clamoring to join Katsuki's team despite his apparent unapproachability. This feels less like something happened in the two weeks leading up to the Sports Festival, and more like history repeating itself from middle school. Moving on to the tournament, we don't even get to see how capable Katsuki is at serious combat. Two of his matches resort to Deus Ex Machina pulls, and the other two are in his corner by principle instead of difficult.

First off, Katsuki vs Ochako. I don't know why people praise this fight. For starters, it makes Katsuki HEAVILY OoC. Ochako is the only person he asks if she wants to back out before the match even starts. The ONLY person, which kinda undermines the whole "he didn't underestimate her" thing. Then he takes a reactionary stance the entire battle. Like, I thought we were still dealing with the "fist first" Katsuki. He does this to Eijiro, Fumikage, even Shoto, but Ochako? Stay still and then attack. Even if he did get his gravity removed, couldn't he just… propelly himself and let her have it. If he was proactive, he could have ended the fight quicker. Instead, he just plays sitting duck and headless chicken. If you're gonna have Katsuki win the fight, don't bulls*** it.

Which brings me to the final bit of that fight: the meteor shower. Having Katsuki blow that away after supposedly expending most of his energy earlier in the match just does NOT sit right. Ochako gets the upper hand, and then you just… negate that? You expect me to believe that Katsuki could generate an explosion at that magnitude, if nothing else? And what exactly does that do for him in the end? No one else tires him out for the remainder of the festival, which is pretty sketch.

(And yeah, I know I know "What part of her was frail?" but that's more of a retrospective thing than in the moment, coupled with the facf that it's never elaborated on again in any capacity, with Ochako or with someone else. It's a throwaway moment; a waste. Moving on…)

You really can't say much about the matchups with Eijiro and Fumikage. With Eijiro, it's an endurance match, and Katsuki apparently has infinite stamina and is on the attack. And he just… rushes him, which I'm pretty sure anyone else would do. Then with Fumikage, Dark Shadow is weak to light. Katsuki's explosions emit light on contact. Do the math.

And I am especially mad at Katsuki vs Shoto because one, he stays in place yet again at the start of the match, and two, he can apparently ignore his Quirk' weakness to low temperatures. In a gym uniform. Against a glacier the size of a building. Even with his power output, you don't see his explosions dampening in magnitude. It's obviously in his favor, which defeats any tension the fight could have had. It sucks, and in the long run, as a wise man once said, "Todoroki should have folded [his] ass."

Then we get to the Final Exams (ABOUT DAMN TIME) and… Katsuki hits Izuku for trying to cooperate, nearly gets knocked out once, and gets knocked out the second time around. He does not want to work with Izuku despite it being All Might, is petty enough to consider losing, and actively grumbles against working with Izuku. And all of his supposed self-preservation goes flying out the window when he's willing to try and beat All Might, leaving Izuku having to come and carry this boy out of the gate, which should not have let him pass.

Then there's the Training Camp attack. The second Izuku is mentioned, Katsuki decides to go AWOL, and while being kidnapped sucks, I am less sympathetic when you're boneheaded enough to help them capture you because you wanted to fight villains instead of getting to safety like the professionals recommended, all because of your one-sided hatefest with one of your classmates. Congrats, you played yourself.

Then we get to the Provisonal License Exam, which feels like a step in the right direction… until you realize this will boil over into Deku vs Kacchan 2, which will get both of them in trouble, which will give Katsuki insight into OFA while Izuku gets shunned by his classmates, and which will prevent Katsuki from the one ass beating that could have potentially taught him something. It's essentially the narrative covering his ass, and then he has the gall to be happy about other people potentially getting set back just because he was set back. Geez dude.

The Cultural Festival essentially undoes what the Remedial Course Arc accomplishes, having Katsuki look down on the rest of UA when he said NOT to look down on people earlier. And then his speech is still heavily antagonistic to the rest of the school, and to the idea of basic human decency and kindness in general. And if I'm being honest, that whole "he can play drums" feels like a big ass pull to keep him in the spotlight. At least the story brought back his ability to cook down the line.

The Joint Training Arc is just shoe horning in regards to Katsuki. It acts like his gearing up towards saving, but the circumstances are heavily, heavily in his favor, and not in a good way. I've already brought up how Katsuki won't get "saving" until the Endeavor Arc, and how here he's just doing it to show off, so I won't go into it here. Then apparently he gets to outwit a recommendation student 'cause why not? It makes him look more impressive than he actually is, even though he outright states he hasn't changed much if at all. Not to mention the narrative makes it sound like he was some sort of underdog, even though he only got kidnapped and didn't get his license. And I know those are big things, but not enough to warrant his victory feeling that triumphant. I'd probably buy it if he didn't win the Sports Festival or pass the Final Exam. Keep him in that slump for longer than you actually do, or it lessens the impact. And let's not forget, he might have been willing to help Izuku with Blackwhip via fisticuffs, but the second he realized he wasn't getting anything out of it, he noped out. And it's been what, almost 200 chapters since his "starting line?"

I don't have much to say during the Endeavor Arc (that was its own can of worms),  but as for the War Arc thus far… here's what I mean by "whiplash." The arc begins in Chapter 253. By Chapter 257, Katsuki will demonstrate how much he just does not give a f*** about Izuku's mastery over OFA so long as it looks like he'll come out on top. By Chapter 274, when Izuku's gotta split, it'll look like Katsuki has been thinking about some stuff, but by 275 he's gonna throw that out the window so he can attempt to one up Tomura and Izuku, and then he'll nearly get killed for it. And we won't know what exactly Katsuki is thinking until a flashback in Chapter 284 (which chronologically takes place after 257), where he has a conversation with All Might about his past with Izuku. Or at least the bullet points. If you're me, the start of the conversation feels less about Izuku and more so about his situation: his situation with OFA. And as much as I want to believe there was at least one good kernel in Katsuki that he was too stubborn to let out with Izuku, I feel like Katsuki only brings up him and his capabilities now because he got a Quirk. That's what put him on Katsuki's radar. That's what forced Katsuki to take notice of Izuku, what caused him to be unable to ignore his own weakness. Because of a Quirk. That's… borderline shallow, if not remarkably so.

And even when Katsuki is attempting to save Izuku in 285, his first thoughts are still on OFA. And even if we go by the line of thought that Katsuki is thinking "Even if OFA sucks, it's still Izuku's Quirk." And that's nice and all, but the flashback makes it seem like the Quirk is still All Might's Quirk as well. That all of Izuku's worth is hinged on the fact that he got a Quirk now and therefore can't be written off. Maybe he doesn't owe this to his accomplishments, but the narrative is terrible in its implications that Izuku wouldn't have gotten as much attention without it. At the end of the day, Katsuki is still associating Izuku's worth with his Quirk. And as much as I want to vaguely, vainly hope that this will change later on, I'm already at my limit

...and now that I've said my piece on almost the entire narrative thus far, let's shift gears to a few more tidbits in 285.

Again, the flashback. I think it's significant that they're shifting the focus briefly on middle school again. But you wanna know what sent me the wrong way? They didn't include the god forsaken suicide instigation. They can show Katsuki gloating. They can show Izuku up against a wall. They can even show a notebook and Izuku's face during the Sludge Villain rematch. But they can't show Izuku reacting with sorrow mixed with almost fury. That can't show Katsuki threatening him with a mere "What?" and the sparks on his palms. They can't show Izuku standing and crying, small and defeated.

"BUT HORI SAID HE WENT TO FAR WITH THAT SCENE!1!" Blah blah blah, doesn't change the fact that it still happened. Doesn't change the fact that it should be addressed, at any capacity. Doesn't change the fact that the story had the balls to recall middle school but couldn't bring itself to remember the one thing that could get its audience raising eyebrows.

But that's alright, it gave you the notebook; clearly it's done enough.

And maybe in another timeline, I could have let my jaw drop when Katsuki was hit and the chapter title was revealed. "Katsuki Bakugo: Rising" It would have been pretty damn powerful too.

...but with all the previous crap the narrative has pulled, it feels like more shoehorning. It feels like more Erasehead stepping in and shaming the audience. It feels like more All Might letting Katsuki in because he's not completely familiar with the finer details. It feels like more people. In narrative parroting that Katsuki changed when he does the bare minimum, as a hero or as a person. I can't treat this development legitimately, because so many other "legitimate" developments pulled a "psyche!" and headed out.

So, I'm done. I'm done with Katsuki, done with hoping his development will be done in a somewhat satisfying manner. Done with people telling me "it's actually good though!" like I'm blind and deaf or something, when I have enough brain cells to formulate my own opinions, and we both have enough brain cells to leave each other alone if we don't agree. Maybe when the series ends and we can all look at this in hindsight, and Katsuki has either found a way to redeem himself, or remain deplorable, I might talk about it then. But for now. I'm drawing the line. I might talk about what we've gotten up to this point, but everything past 285 I'm taking with a grain of salt. 'Cause I'm sick of hoping for something that obviously won't come through, and it's better for me and everyone involved if I just pack up and move on. BNHA isn't just Katsuki's story after all.

And if you made it to the end of all this… I hope you'll either respect my opinion, or respect my thought process. That's all I can ask.

-Crimson Lion (27 September 2020)

[washymylifeaway]

hi! do you have any favourite fantasy/mythology esque sakuatsu fics?

Haikyuu SakuAtsu fanfic recs: Fantasy Edition!!!!

To the anon who requested this, you are an ABSOLUTE GOD. I don’t know if you know, but fantasy AND mythology are some of my FAVORITE genres of ALL TIME. STILL, I saw the esque and I ran with it (cause there isn’t a lot of like pure fantasy or mythological journey fics ie. my poor excuse OOPS LOL and I wasn’t too sure what would be okay on this list AHAHA), so if it’s not the right kind of fics you were looking for, I’M SO SORRY :((((((( May this rec list be up to your expectations!!!!!! (And if it isn’t, feel free to re-request :’))))),,,, ALSO, ignore me switching between Sakusa and Omi LOL.)

As per usual, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for each fic before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

if you make me feel in love / if you make me open up by volchitsae (E) 6.4k // this is a reincarnation AU, and it has a major folklore/japanese-ish mythology (gods) element to it. This honestly MIGHT be my favorite from this list cause it’s just done SO well and I LOVE the reunion after the TRAGEDY :’)))) I’m trying to be vague cause I REALLY don’t want to spoil this fic at ALL, so PLEASE read it heh.

my love, take your time by bastigod (T) 9k // this is another reincarnation AU, but this time it’s with greek-ish mythology :’D However, the fantasy part of it is kinda on the back burner (ahaha oops LOL). It becomes more apparent near the end of the fic, but the build up to it is worth reading, which is why it’s here LOL. I love how they added Sakusa’s own memories concerning certain things, and how he collected pieces of them in the museum! The writing is so good, but also, I’m a sucker for Omi making lists relating to Atsumu hehe.

your flame will not survive in this cold tundra by awkwardedgeworth (T) 26.5k // this is an AtLA AU, but even if you don’t know the show, you’ll still enjoy it! I absolutely love this fic and the plot is really AMAZING and asihfkjahsdkfjak their DEVELOPMENT. Especially with the separation of POV’s in both chapters (and what we get to see which we didn’t previously) UGH,,,, it was so GOOD. (Their other AtLA AU fics are really good too, so don’t be shy, go read them as well LOL.)

one life, one encounter by bastigod (G) 5.7k // this is a japanese-ish mythology AU, with our first appearance of foxsumu. We do stan Kita-san and Sakusa being friends with one another in this house :D This fic was really cute and Sakusa is so baby in this (but in a GOOD WAY), and when he talks to Atsumu at first,,, HE SOUNDED SO LONELY LIKE I’LL BE YOUR FRIEND :((((((

give me a moment so devoted by volchitsae (T) 4.5k // immortals! YES! I really really like this one and I think that their relationship in it was SO cute. I am really into the idea of Atsumu being insufferable throughout Omi’s lifetime and them having INSIDE JOKES AHHHHH. It’s really light and fluffy so if you just want some love in your life, this is the read :)

show you my best disguise by volchitsae (T) 5.1k // this one has NICE Sakusa in it (which I think should be more common fight me) and their relationship with one another is actually good from the beginning :D I love how naturally it progressed and how we get to see the habits slowly build as they spend time with one another. Very good fic, but not lots of magic until the end LOL. (There’s also a lot of poetry LOL.)

both our hands speak for us and complicate it by volchitsae (M) 8.6k // MAGIC/superpowers :D FIRST, the puns are such a nice touch to this fic and SECOND we do love the yachi/yama agenda being pushed here. I really like the conditions Sakusa’s powers have, and how that added to the plot (and the ending for that matter, may there be a universe where they can touch LOL). Honestly, the magic is also kinda back burner for this one and it focuses more on relationship dev. but it’s still a fun read so I added it LOL.

Rain and Its Incendiary Properties by firtree (M) 24.5k // so we get some Sakusa turning into vampire backstory in this one, and the revelation of more mythical beings LOL. Bless Komori and tbh Suna for being some MVP’s in this fic, we do love the familial bonds :)))) But also, the knowledge at the end does give some second hand embarrassment so brace yourself LOL.

two slow dancers by orphan_account (T) 1.2k // AHHHHHH BLOND SAKUSA! Also, yes another vampire fic. What? Sue me. This is just a load of fluff and sap from Atsumu, and warning: there ARE twilight references in this one ahahahaha. (If you thought that with this many vampire fics on the list, you would be safe from twilight, you obviously thought wrong.)

crimson colored lotus by sieges (M) 16.5k // this was a demon slayer AU LOL. TBH I haven’t watched DS, but you honestly don’t really need to in order to read this LOL. It’s explained really well and the writing is AMAZING! It’s not a linear fic, but you can read it in order if you so choose. I know it’s a stretch for this list, but it’s just that good, okay? LOL.

how can I not be moved (by you) by Ann1215 (T) 26.4k // this has warlock Atsumu (with an actual REASON for his blond-ness that isn’t Osamu) and halfling Sakusa, who is eventually a sap LOL. I really love fics with familiars and animals so this fic was one that I really liked hehe. The ending? Embarrassing but we do love the love LOL. Also the second part with Atsumu’s POV, FLUFF like, yes please give me all the love :DDDDD

enchanted to meet ya by zantetsvkens (T) 4.8k // FAST BURN but it makes sense. I agree with the a/n at the end for the confession, so there’s that LOL. I liked this one because the tactful provoking was SO good and funny for that matter HAH. But Sakusa WOULD be more concerned with the window costs than Atsumu’s wellbeing (it had to have been said).

when morning comes we'll be safe by bestcarrot (T) 2.7k // another demon slayer AU even though I’ve never read or watched ds? Yes. Again, sue me. I know it’s teeeeeeechnically a stretch BUT fox demon Atsumu...... (Also it’s written so well I felt like I needed to add it okay? :’)))))) AND yes, I WAS holding onto the no character death (YOU SHOULD TOO), the close ending was scary.

a boy is a thing with fangs by unthank (T) 3.5k // foxsumu! ngl I’ll just be straight up honest with you all, I added this for the response Sakusa has to Atsumu when they’re watching SunaOsa play shogi in the next fic LOL. I thought it was so funny and perfect for that moment please. Just,,,, forgive me once AHAHAH.

Falling For You (Literally) by Anubis_2701 (T) 6.5k // clumsy Atsumu makes me feel some type of way LOL. This is another NICE, soft Sakusa fic (like i said we need more: me pretending like I don’t see the tag for it LOL) and it’s just really cute. There’s some medical tings that occur (cause Omi is literally a magical medic LOL), but it’s just very FLUFF hehe.

The curse of a blessing by basinnit (E) 7.8k // CHECKING WARNINGS AND TAGS!!!!!!! I felt like I knew what was going to happen, but DENIAL IS NICE OKAY. Honestly, it seems short with it’s 7.8k word count, but with the number of mental breaks you’re gonna need,,,, it’ll seem long. Also, yes Atsumu punching people (one person in particular) because I would’ve too and I love that person >:((((( It looks scary and confusing with the tags, but I’d read it anyway LOL. (If you’re wondering, the magic is that Suna and Sakusa are warlocks LOL.)

The Fox Prince by cinnamonlove (T) 13.1k // okay there are some INSULTS thrown (and lots of cursing LOL) and so TW: LOTTA CURSE WORDS. Aside from that, we see once again MVP Komori making an appearance, but also vulnerable SakuAtsu near the end :0 It’s definitely an interesting fic, so that’s why it’s here LOL. (Also it’s like fake foxsumu but not really,,,, you’ll understand.)

the echoing halls by ohwickedsoul (T) 11.7k // GAH THIS ONE WAS SO GOOD. To read it though, some background knowledge (or google LOL) is needed cause the mythology references are very strong in this one. But I love when Sakusa was so desperate (honor’d light AUAHFKJDHFKJS) and Atsumu was aboutta (basically) punch him LOL. V GOOD V CUTE IN LOVE? I AM.

Did I just take this ask as an excuse to read a crap ton of fantasy/mythology AUs instead of doing any of my other work? Yes, yes I did. Also, I know it’s kinda short (LOL NOT ME SAYING THIS but I did NOT (surprising IK) put some of the fics I liked D:), but I tried to REALLY narrow it down a bit hehe. I hope I didn’t miss too many good ones, and I’m sorry for not really staying on ‘topic’ LOL. I realized while re-reading these that a lot of them are just Atsumu like meeting Sakusa by chance and being like dang, he’s hot. Gotta bother him forever ig? Thank you for the ask, it was really fun and I hope you liked the fics hehe :)

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 30

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, pt 3/?

A/N: Chapter 30 already! This chapter was not an easy one to edit as I was insecure about a lot of things, but hey, it's out now and that's what matters, right? I am so aware things are progressing a bit slowly right now but I feel it's kind of 'necessary' to have a bit of down time before things start going down. (Not that I'm capable of writing actual drama.) Well, at least we'll find out a bit more about Leo's past in this chapter.

Without a further ado, please enjoy and let me know what you think (those comments really help me!!!)

Words: exactly 3000 apparently :O

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

After breakfast Leo asked Calypso if she would like him to give her a tour around Waystation. She agreed, but Leo couldn’t help but raise his eyebrow at his family members when Georgina asked if she could go with the flatmates and Leo’s mothers told her that they needed Georgie’s help in some Christmas chores.

“What?” Josephine asked innocently when she noticed Leo staring.

“I dunno, tía Jo. It just kinda seems like you don’t want Georgie to hang out with us,” he stated bluntly.

“That’s not accurate at all, Leo,” she denied. “I’d gladly let Georgina go with you but we really do need her help around here. Christmas isn’t coming if we all just slack off, right, Emmie?”

“I agree, dear. I haven’t even…” Emmie’s hesitance only deepened Leo’s suspicions. “...hmmm, taken care of our mistletoes yet.”

“Mistletoes?” Leo crossed his arms over his chest, briefly daring to wonder what would happen if he and Calypso were under one of those plants at the same time. He shook his head to dispel such an idea.

“Didn’t we agree that we don’t need stuff like that? You don’t even like Christmas!”

“I may agree that this holiday is way too commercial these days, but since Emmie has some mistletoes growing in her greenhouse anyway, I don’t see why we wouldn’t use them,” Jo commented. “It’s nice that Georgie gets to experience some of the old traditions even if we grownups don’t care about them.”

“Whatever,” Leo rolled his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t win that battle.

“Um, if you need extra hands,” Calypso joined the conversation, addressing Jo and Emmie, “I don’t have to go with Leo. I’d love to help too.”

Leo felt a twinge of disappointment because of Calypso’s suggestion. His insecure side yelled that maybe he had misread Calypso’s intentions all along.

“Oh, no, no!” Emmie denied immediately. “You are our guest; we want you to take it easy and enjoy your stay here. I bet Leo’s tour is a lot more fun than us peeling way too many potatoes and carrots for the casserole.”

“I wouldn’t mind peeling potatoes,” Calypso mumbled but Leo’s mothers pretended they didn’t even hear that. The flatmates simply had to accept that they wouldn’t have a chaperone - except maybe Festus - on their tour.

Once the two of them were outside, Leo’s thoughts went back to the time when he had first arrived at Waystation. Back then, he had been only 15, having just escaped from his latest foster home, which had been located far away in New Mexico. His foster family there had hidden their opinion on him very badly, giving him sly remarks about his looks and telling him to speak clearer English even though Leo’s English had always been fine, thanks to his real mother allowing him to learn both Spanish and English as a small kid. They had also made him do the hard work such as carrying heavy loads while the other foster kid of the family got the easy tasks. And when he had come home from school with bad grades, the foster parents had commented: “why do we even bother with you?”

At some point Leo had simply had enough, and by selling some of the few belongings he had he had managed to gather just enough money for one plane ticket and so he flew to Indianapolis without telling anything to his foster family.

After living on the streets and successfully dodging the authorities for a couple of weeks, the police finally found him and contacted the local social workers. Thankfully, after Leo put all his convincing skills to use, they agreed to not send him back to New Mexico, instead finding him a new foster family nearby. Leo hadn’t had high expectations because he had been in at least 6 different foster homes since his mother’s death and none of them had been a good match for him. Some had been abusive, some racist, some ignorant, some had had kids who were bullies, some had had alcohol issues… What had been common for them all was that none of them had treated him the way they should have.

That was why Leo had picked some bad habits too; he wanted to drown his feelings somehow and he ended up stealing small amounts of money from his foster family so he could buy alcohol from his older homeless ‘friends’. He had hated how it made him feel afterwards, but it had been the only way he had known how to deal with his issues. At some point he had even had suicidal thoughts because the guilt and trauma from his childhood got so bad he woke up covered in sweat after the same old fire filled nightmare almost every night. And going from foster home to foster home and feeling like none of those people cared what he really did with his life definitely didn’t help him regain his feeling of self worth. He had no future, no plans, no real friends or family and nowhere to go.

Luckily, during his worst phase in his last foster home someone from his homeless group mentioned having a relative in Indiana and that he was hoping to move there at some point in hopes of getting a new start for his life. That idea sparked something in Leo’s mind and when he started planning his big escape, Indianapolis was the first place that he thought of.

When he finally met Jo and Emmie, he was surprised. Seeing them spending time with their then 5-year-old adoptive daughter, he could tell that these women genuinely cared about the little girl and did everything for her wellbeing. Not only that, Jo was a mechanic just like Leo’s real mother and they had also other things in common. With some patience and showing that they cared, simply by making sure that Leo ate, rested and had something to do with his time other than dwelling on his sad past, they eventually won him over. And when Leo discovered thanks to Jo’s help that he himself had the skills to become a mechanic someday as well, he finally had a goal to reach and studying wasn’t quite as big a struggle for him anymore.

Soon, however, Leo became afraid that Jo and Emmie wouldn’t want to keep him around because he still had some bad days when he literally had to be dragged from his bed. He was also worried that maybe the women had heard what he had done in his past and were silently judging him. Instead, they surprised him by telling him that they wanted to officially adopt him much like Georgina because he was a part of their family now. As an added bonus they assigned him for therapy sessions, which really helped and the days when he didn’t want to do anything became less and less. Leo knew he was still a work in progress but this family had helped him so much and he had found his purpose, his home, at Waystation.

Calypso had naturally noticed Leo’s silence so eventually she asked:

“Are you OK? You’re being unusually quiet.”

“Oh, yeah, just dandy!” Leo exclaimed, trying to act more like his usual self. “I was just thinking about the times when I first moved in here.”

“Really? Do you want to tell me more about that?” Calypso asked curiously.

“I guess it won’t hurt.” Leo shrugged. “I don’t remember if I’ve told you that I was in a lot of foster homes before I got here. Well, my last foster parents were really shitty people and I was this close to… I dunno, doing something desperate. So I decided to just leave and ended up here in Indianapolis. I, um, was homeless for a bit but when the social workers got me into their hands they found me a new family, Jo and Emmie. At first they were supposed to only foster me for a time being but they ended up adopting me instead. I… haven’t told this to anyone, but they probably saved my life by doing that. The Leo from that time was far from the Super-Sized McSizzle that I am now,” he attempted to joke, but Calypso ignored that. Instead, she said:

“I’m sorry you had to go through that… but I’m glad you opened up about it to me.” Leo’s heart did an extra jump when he saw Calypso smiling at him supportingly. He would never get used to that. “And I’m glad Jo and Emmie adopted you.”

“Yeah, me too… When I first saw the place I was like, ‘wow, I wish I could stay here’. Obviously the people here are awesome - they are my family - but that wasn’t the only thing the 15-year-old me cared about. The cars and other machines Jo was fixing? So cool. I had only seen something like that at my childhood home and the nostalgia hit me like ‘boom’ right away.”

“I should have known it was the machines that convinced you to stay here,” Calypso teased, but Leo knew her already too well to get provoked by that.

“Nah. I mean, they’re neat and all, but Jo and Emmie did the actual convincing.”

“Okay, I believe you. So, was Jo’s garage what made you want to become a mechanical engineer?” Calypso asked.

“I guess the spark was always there but it took me a while to convince myself that I should try to pursue that goal. But when I started going to school again regularly – long story, don’t ask – I noticed that the sciences were easy for me, I was also decent enough at drawing – which of course helps with the blueprints and stuff – and Jo let me try fixing some of the simpler machines she had and turned out I wasn’t half bad. It was Jo and Emmie who kept pushing me to apply for the uni, though, because they believed in me more than I did. I’m thankful that they did it but… sometimes I still doubt...” Leo hadn’t talked about his insecurities even to his adoptive mothers so he felt that the fact that he was able to open up about it to Calypso was a big deal.

“I’ve seen you fix countless items,” Calypso said slowly. “I’ve noticed that you’re always… so different when you’re fiddling with your machines. More relaxed. Calmer. Surer of what you do. And your eyes sparkle and you hum some old school rock song while you work and I can just tell that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Leo had to avert his eyes from her because he was afraid he would do something stupid like cry if he looked at her too long in that moment. No matter how encouraging his family, friends and the therapist were… it was still hard to get used to the compliments. And if he was honest to himself, he probably valued Calypso’s opinion more than anyone else’s at that point.

“Wow… umm… I don’t know how to answer that…” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“A simple thank you would probably do,” Calypso replied. “But know that I mean what I say. Now, how about you show me that famous garage?”

Leo did as he was told. He introduced Calypso to all the tools and machinery they used to fix whatever item the customer happened to bring in. He had a feeling that Calypso probably didn’t have any idea what he was talking about half the time because he tended to get very technical with the terms when he got excited, but she still seemed content listening to him. At least she wasn’t telling him to stop, which was definitely a plus.

To Leo’s surprise, Calypso went to the table where he and Jo used to draw their blueprints and asked him if she could see how he did it because she hadn’t seen his blueprints before. He complied, taking a pencil and a piece of blank paper from the stack and looking at Calypso questioningly.

“What do you want me to draw, then? I may have some experience on this but even I need some ideas first…”

“You can draw whatever you like. How about Festus?” Calypso requested.

“Festus?” Leo tapped the pencil against his chin for a moment, considering Calypso’s request. “Hmm, as you wish, Sunshine.”

He started making fast, swift motions on the paper and it didn’t take him very long to finish the sketch. Sure, the lines were a bit rough, but Calypso told him she was very impressed by how accurately he remembered even the little details, such as a dark spot on Festus’ back, how the tail curved when he was happy, and how he was missing a tiny piece of the tip of his left ear.

Leo felt a bit embarrassed by the praise. “It just comes with me hanging out with him so much. Nothing more to it, really.” He looked at the sketch for a moment. “Hold on, I feel like this is missing something. Can you look towards that window for a moment?”

“What, why?” Calypso asked, but turned anyway.

“Just adding something real quick,” Leo replied and started sketching again. He wondered if it was the lighting of the room but he thought Calypso’s cheeks seemed a bit darker than usual and she kept looking at the floor shyly. When he realized that he’d probably feel the same way if she was drawing him, he himself got flustered and decided to try to finish the drawing as quickly as possible. Within minutes he had drawn her next to Festus, playing with him, wearing the same holiday sweater and jeans she currently was.

“Can I see?” Calypso asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Leo gave the picture to her. “It’s not detailed or anything but I tried.”

Calypso kept staring at it for a moment. “Leo… this looks great! I mean, I don’t think I am that pretty but I am quite amazed that you managed to do this that fast!”

Leo wanted to say that there was no way the picture did her justice but he knew that would be a never ending debate so instead he told her: “It’s the experience, Sunshine. When you draw hundreds of blueprints you learn to be fast.”

Calypso turned her attention to the drawing again. “Can I get it?” she asked after a while.

“Why?”

“Because Festus looks cute, you weirdo. That’s a good enough reason, right?”

“Fine, you can have it. I’m not sure where I’d put it anyway.” Leo shrugged. He wasn’t sure why Calypso possibly hanging the picture on her wall made him feel a bit weird. In a good way, though.

Once the two of them left the garage, Leo pointed at a smaller building next to the ‘main’ one. A couple of pointy ears were peeking from the upstairs windows. “That’s where our foster animals live. I think the kid me wished on some level that I could have a pet but my mom could never afford one… but Jo and Emmie have been fostering rescue cats and dogs even before I got here. One of them was Festus’ mum; she was pregnant when she arrived here. When she had her puppies, I noticed that one of them was a bit of an outsider and we instantly formed a bond. Jo and Emmie allowed him to stay here even though he sure would have had adopters.”

“That was really sweet of them,” Calypso commented. “Can we see who’s in there right now?”

“Sure but we should probably let Emmie know about it because she’s pretty strict about who can go in. She may ask us to wear ‘bunny suits’; some of the animals may be sick and we don’t wanna spread the bugs around.”

“No problem, let’s go see her then.”

When Emmie heard what Leo and Calypso were about to do, she promised to stop her Christmas chores for a while so she could show them (mainly Calypso) around in the rescue house. Currently she was fostering two young puppies who had been found on the streets without their mother, a mother cat with her 4 kittens who were getting close to their adoption age, and an older cat with some kidney issues who seemed to however adore the little kittens.

Leo was watching Calypso’s reactions closely as Emmie was introducing her to the kittens. Soon one of the braver kittens climbed on the girl’s lap, giving her a tiny ‘meow’ and then started nuzzling against her sleeve.

“Aww, look Leo! He loves me,” Calypso exclaimed, smiling widely as the kitten started purring loudly on her lap while she pet him. ‘He’s not the only one,’ Leo thought in his mind. Aloud he asked: “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I guess because I’ve never really handled cats so I didn’t know how they’d react to me…” Calypso noted more seriously. But then the happiness returned to her face. “You know, this one reminds me of you! He also has long, black hair like you and fierce eyes.”

“Fierce?” Leo raised his eyebrow. “That’s what you think of me?”

Calypso seemed to want to explain but with Emmie in the room she didn’t go to details. “Um, maybe? Hey, look! Another one is coming!”

This time a small ginger kitten was approaching her and Calypso extended her arm so the kitten could sniff her. The group kept making small talk about the cats in the room and continued snuggling them, but Leo’s eyes were on Calypso the whole time. He could see how happy she was about such a simple thing as kittens and it made him feel lighter, warmer again, even though he had just remembered some very bad times a few moments earlier. Maybe all of it had been meant to happen, he wondered briefly. After all, it led him here, to his family… and Calypso.

[dancingkirby]

Shipping

I’m sorry, but it had to be done.  Do y’all think this would work better as a Short Story, or just a oneshot on its own?  

DAY 1

To celebrate the tenth anniversary of his ascension to the throne, Zuzu and Mai were off on a world tour.  Azula had been left in charge of ruling the country.  While Azula was glad that he was finally realizing that she wasn’t always thinking about world domination all the time, so far her regency had been extremely boring.  Now, she was more than halfway through it, and absolutely nothing of note had happened.  

Today had started out like all the others.  She hadn’t slept great the night before because of the high winds that had battered Capital Island, and they hadn’t ebbed down very much by morning.  She’d had trouble getting her hair to stay in its topknot while training.  But the morning council meeting had proven as tedious as ever.  Azula was paying the exact minimum amount of attention required as the ministers droned on about tax brackets; most of her brain was occupied on what she would have for lunch that day.  Noodles were always nice, but she’d had them for two days in a row now. Anytime she ate any food on multiple consecutive days, there was always the risk of speculation among the courtiers that she might be pregnant.  Never mind that she hadn’t even done any sex acts that could result in pregnancy for years…

The door to the meeting hall abruptly swung open.  An out-of-breath messenger stood in the doorway, blushing deeply as nearly twenty pairs of annoyed eyes scrutinized him.  

“You do realize that you are intruding on a confidential council meeting, correct?” Azula inquired of him.  

“I’m t-terribly sorry, P-princess,” the messenger managed to get out.  “But I was told that this needed your immediate attention.” Could it be…that something interesting was about to occur for a change?

“All right. What is it?” she asked.  At her hand motion, the messenger climbed up to the dais and whispered in Azula’s ear.

“Okay.  I’ll be right there.  We will continue this meeting at a time to be determined later,” Azula stated.

So here she was on a tugboat, looking at the enormous cargo ship that had somehow gotten wedged into the Strait of Azulon.   Azula turned to the old salt who was leading efforts to remove it and said, “Explain.”

“That ship is called the Agni-Given, Princess,” the man said somewhat stiltedly; it appeared that he was trying to rein in a sailor’s natural tendency to use copious foul language.  “It’s one of the largest cargo ships in the world.  Today, it was passing through the strait when the high winds pushed it off-course and into a sandbar.  It also got tangled in some old nets from the Gates. We’ve been trying out dam…darndest to free it, but no luck.”

Azula took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly out of her nose.  “And what have these initial attempts included?”

 “We attached every tugboat in the harbor to it to try to pull it out, but it didn’t work, Princess. That fu…freaking thing is stuck deep into a sandbar.  Next step would be to try to dig it out.”

“Explain how that would be accomplished.”

“Yes…well…”–the old man paused–“We ain’t sure yet, to be honest.  The problem is that the place where the bow is stuck is seventy feet underwater.  All of the excavating machines available were built for use on land.  We was thinking of trying to get some of those new forklifts, try to extend their reach, and bring them out on boats, but…that would take time.”

“Forklifts?  Is that the best you could come up with?” Azula demanded.  She found herself imitating her brother’s famed nose-bridge pinch.  This would not do at all.  She needed an ingenue, someone who could design a whole new kind of machine if need be. And she thought she knew exactly where to find one.  

 DAY 2

It had been the end of a long day, without much progress being made.  Azula was just about to demand that the larger, more comfortable boat they’d made ready for her today take her back to the harbor when, at long last, the other ship that she had been awaiting arrived.  After this watercraft was tethered to hers, a figure came running down the gangplank, arms outstretched.  

“Azula!” Sokka exclaimed.  “How’s it going?  We haven’t seen each other in forever…hey!” His attempts at embracing her had been thwarted by the princess grabbing his shirt at arm’s length.  

“Not in public, remember?!” she hissed.  Then, just as formally as if he were any old dignitary, she added in normal tones, “Councilman Sokka.  It is good to see you here.  I trust that your journey here was uneventful?”

“Yeah, except we had to go around the long way because of…well…that,” Sokka replied, gesturing at the still firmly-entrenched Agni-Given.  “So how do you want me to assist, O Princess?” He did a little bow, and could not quite manage to keep a straight face.  

“Watch it,” Azula reprimanded again.  Whenever they encountered each other, she always needed to remind him that their relationship was a melding of intellects and occasionally flesh; romance had absolutely no place in it.  

“I recall that you designed a vehicle that could travel underwater,” she explained.  “Would it be possible to modify this concept and attach equipment for shoveling?  Or perhaps even the capacity for finer manipulation to untangle the net remnants?”

Sokka took a few moments to consider as he beheld the enormous ship.  Finally, he replied, “Yeah, I think that’d be possible.  It’ll take a while to draw up plans and get everything built, though.”

“Very well,” Azula told him.  “I suppose we shall have to simply endure each other’s company for a little longer.”

“’Endure?’  Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Sokka gave a wink that was obviously meant to be seductive, but in fact only made him look ridiculous.  Azula elbowed him in the ribs.

They did, in fact, end up fucking that night, after Sokka had eaten what seemed to be about half of the palace’s food supply for dinner.  They hadn’t seen each other in more than three years, and Azula was scrupulous about taking her contraceptive tea, so why not?

Sokka tried to kiss Azula after, but she didn’t let him.

DAY 3

Zuko had sent a message asking if he should cut his celebratory tour short and come home to help with this problem, but Azula quickly scribbled out a reply that they had everything under control.  

Today was the day that Sokka would first meet with the team of engineers assigned to resolve this problem.  

“And I’m sure that all of you will give him the respect that he deserves,” Azula told them in the most pleasant voice she could manage.  Some of them were obviously pissy about being forced to consult with a man who was half most of their ages.  Well, too bad.  Anyone who tried to ignore him would be upbraided with the utmost harshness personally by her.

DAY 10          

The manufacturing process had begun.  Sokka informed her that he had dubbed this new invention the “shovelmarine.”  He did not attempt to conceal his sheer glee at this horrible pun.  Azula threw a pillow at him.  

While the two of them worked by day and screwed by night, things were starting to get out of hand in the Harbor District.  The plight of the Agni-Given had captured the imagination of the public, and kiosks had sprouted all over the piers selling miniature models of the grounded ship. It seemed that every single street musician in the city had composed his or her own ballad about the situation.  Fan magazines had been established simply for the purpose of publishing the flood of stories and art that the more creatively-minded citizens had concocted.  Azula had gotten a hand on one of these volumes, and her favorite story was a somewhat graphic recounting of a speculated liaison between the Agni-Given and the statue of her grandfather.  Apparently, the statue was the dominant partner in this relationship…just as it should be.

This magazine had also included a drawing depicting her own activities with Sokka.  She knew that she should be furious about this; that the culprit should be tracked down and executed, but she found it just too amusing.  The picture was even surprisingly accurate, except that Azula had not actually handcuffed Sokka to her bedpost.  They had improvised with the sash from her nightrobe instead.  

DAY 16

“Okay, lets see what these shovelmarines can do!” Sokka said as the contraptions touched the open ocean for the first time.  The two of them watched from the boat that was by now almost as familiar to Azula as her own suite of rooms at the palace were.  

As it turned out, the shovelmarines (Azula had grudgingly accepted this terrible name) could do quite a bit.  Over the next several days, they worked steadily at the problem.  Finally, three weeks to the day after the Agni-Given had first gotten stuck, it once again floated freely, although it would be have to be drydocked to repair all the damage.  

In his excitement, Sokka had tried to kiss Azula.  She had initially resisted, but he had used his ultimate weapon: polar bear dog eyes.

“All right, but only once.  And on the cheek,” she cautioned him.  

DAY 25

Sokka had departed two days ago, and Azula hoped that he wouldn’t try to send love letters or anything stupid like that.  He should know how it worked by now.  Whenever they happened to meet, they would rekindle their affair for the duration of the visit, and then they went their separate ways until their next encounter. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever, but it would be fun while it lasted.  

And today…Zuzu and Mai made their triumphant return from their tour.

“Wow,” said Zuko as the two of them stood at the harbor, observing as the last of the debris was carried away.  “You and Sokka took care of that whole mess all on your own!  Thank you, Azula.”  At this point, he obviously knew from experience not to make any comments about her relationship with the nonbender.

“Why do you sound so surprised, brother?” Azula asked, turning toward him and raising an eyebrow. “It’s almost like I am, in fact, a competent ruler and don’t spend all of my days dreaming of bloodshed and destruction!  Who would have ever guessed?”

“That’s not what…” Zuko began, but he could say no more as Azula caught him by surprise, got him in a headlock, and began inflicting a merciless noogie on him.  

“Admit it, Zuko,” she crowed.  “I’m awesome!”

“Okay, I surrender!” he squeaked out.  “You’re awesome.”

She released him. “There.  That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?  Now let’s go get some ice cream.”

And so they did.

[anxiouslyfred]

Mold on Me

for @dukexietyweek‘s prompt High School, I have no clue how american schools work so I’m just going with what I know.

Summary: Virgil had only heard about Remus as a kid who annoyed his friends in their classes but after finally seeing what the other student looks like and meeting him is torn between hiding away or trying to get to know Remus better. Remus is already decided on meeting the snarky student again, if only to learn his name.

Warnings: Knife mentions, Food mentions?, unsafe science lab practices mentioned,

/\/\/\/\/\

Virgil had been bullied badly when he was younger. It was why he hated being around the more populated areas of the school and now basically lived in the Library as much as he could. That didn’t mean he was against making friends, just that they’d usually be the ones deciding to make friends and he just wouldn’t question it at all.

“He almost blew up the lab today. Why did I have to get partnered with someone who clearly has no regard for any form of safety? Even when I stopped him and tried to correct the experiment from where he’d mixed all the chemicals up he was literally taking the ones I was trying to return to mix together again!” Logan had been ranting for most of their breaktime by this point. Virgil didn’t really mind, and actually was kind of curious about the student in question.

He hadn’t had a class with Remus King before but already knew plenty of views about him, just because his 2 friends shared different classes with him. Logan’s complaints were always regarding some form of danger or safety protocol but Patton’s were where his interest came from.

The food technology class that Patton shared with Remus did have a lot of interesting assignments getting set at various times, including making savoury ice creams near the time of the open evenings so they could, essentially, prank the children wondering if this would be a good school for them to come to next. Patton had somehow managed to make one that tasted delicious but  Virgil still couldn’t work out if the flavour combination he’d been told Remus made only sounded disgusting or actually tasted horrible too.

“Dude, surely the teach would have stopped him if it was that dangerous.” Virgil just couldn’t be bothered to add something more to his list of reasons not to trust the teachers. It was already too long for his comfort and Logan was never one to help.

Patton at least caught onto that and came up with a subject to divert their conversation onto for the rest of their break.

/\/\

The next time Virgil thought about Remus was a few days later as their lunch break ended and he was heading into the science block for his physics class. Patton hadn’t made it out to lunch that day since his food technology class was either side of it so they’d have more time for the practical lessons.

It at least made the corridor Virgil was passing down smell delightfully of chocolate but he was far more interested in, and slightly terrified by, the boy kicking the door of the food tech classroom open, storming down the classroom, yelling “It’s knife work! What about that can’t be turned into uses for a weapon? What planet are you from that blades and any work from them isn’t two steps from a use to attack or torture another!”

One last thought Virgil had about Remus was that his friends were disasters at describing what any human looked like. According to Logan, the boy had obviously dyed his hair and ignored any attempt his parents or brother made to teach him personal hygiene. Patton was a little kinder, saying Remus had a lovely wide grin and energetic eyes, although Virgil was still trying to figure out just what that meant.

His mental image so far had been of some slightly crossed-eyed younger version of the Joker from Batman, but the boy fitting all the stories he’d heard of Remus looked nothing less than gorgeous.

“They’re from the Health and Safety state, Dude. We’re meant to have forgotten the threatening uses of knives we use in cooking unless we are the ones being threatened by them.” Virgil muttered his reply, to anxious about being noticed to say it any louder.

He still got noticed and the boy halting in front of him. “Someone in this damn school gets it! Come join us in class!” Virgil didn’t have much of a choice to disagree as his arm was grabbed and he got dragged into the classroom, sheepishly waving to Patton when the other students turned to look at the rapid return.

“Mr King, I’ve told you before that you cannot drag your friends into here even on a lunch break.” the teacher sighed, confirming Virgil’s assumption over who it was.

“I actually was heading to class anyway. There’s only like 2 minutes left before...” Virgil began explaining, tugging on his arm to get it released just as the bell went off to officially end the lunch period. “Yeah. I guess I’ll have to properly meet you some other time, Remus.”

He ducked out of the classroom before anything else could be said, letting the flow of other students heading to class calm the spiralling emotions and only just hearing “No fair, I’ll learn your name next time, Stachybotrys.” yelled after him.

If only the insane boy wasn’t proving to be exactly Virgil’s type perhaps he’d have learnt something about physics that day.

/\/\

Logan was not amused when he reached their table today. “Do either of you know if Remus means a person or the mold when he mentions Stachbotrys? I have had to argue constantly to get any progress on our study for the entirity of our class.”

“I met him for like two minutes. That should not be enough time for him to have anything to say about me.” Virgil growled, hunching back into his hoodie.

“He met Virgil while trying to storm out of food tech yesterday. Apparently our anxious bean muttered something in agreement of what he was yelling about knives.” Patton added what more he could at Logan’s raised eyebrow.

At least amusement was replacing Logan’s frustration now, a smile clearly being held back. “At least I didn’t try suggesting he locates the mold on rice then. Remus does seem rather insistent that and I’m paraphrasing here, he’s going to find and make his the Stachbotrys that is all he could think of last night.”

There aren’t quite words for everything Virgil wanted to say to that, so in the attempt he let out a rather strangled noise, burying his head in his arms. He could take having a crush on a complete whirlwind maniac who seemed to drive both his friends up the wall but having even the merest suggestion the affections could be returned was too much to understand.

“If he brings it up next time we share class I’ll suggest visiting the library to look up the subject, shall I?” Logan offered. Virgil made a mental note that there had now been 3 instances of teasing pushed too much by the boy who insisted he only ever acted logically.

/\/\

“I don’t need to read about mold but my science partner has decided if I’m going to talk about my Stachybotrys so much our experiments can easily be adjusted to focus on mold.” Remus’s voice was loud as he marched over to the helpdesk in the library and Virgil was just grateful he had decided to read at one of the tables hidden among the shelves while waiting for his lift to arrive. “Apparently that means I do need books to source the information I already know so which shelves am I looking for?”

Definitely not the area Virgil was in. The shelves near him included cultures of the world, and how to books for various creative hobbies. The only thing that seemed even remotely likely to interest Remus were the history of war books near the end of the isle but they didn’t connect to mold at all.

Virgil’s reasoning and frantic checking that he could hopefully avoid the other boy distracted him enough that he didn’t realise Remus looking through the shelves opposite him. “Stachybotrys! I found you again!” He couldn’t miss the exclamation though.

“Didn’t realise we were playing hide and seek. I thought I was writing an essay for English Lit.” Virgil hissed back, really not wanting to give the librarian any cause to kick him out.

“Ooh, what’s it on? And what’s your name? You’ve been on my mind like a mold and it would be nice to have the right name for the newest mold I’ve encountered.” Remus clearly didn’t care about making some noise although he did quiet down dramatically when he saw how uncomfortable the noise was making Virgil.

“I’m Virgil though I’m fairly sure you’ve already got my friends convinced Stachybotrys should just be a nickname for me now.”  He was actually annoyed at that.

Patton always butchered the word, and would only try to use it when mentioning how besotted he thought Remus was since the only diversion of subject in their food tech class recently had been how the molds of different foods could make people sick or kill them.

Logan on the other hand would just randomly use the name for Virgil in the hopes Remus would be somewhere close by to hear him. That had never worked since Virgil was either in class, outside to eat or in the library.

Remus peered at him a little. “Still fits though. You definitely appear like a threat but ultimately leaving the world undecided over how dangerous you are. So assuming Logan’s one of your friends, who is the other I’ve got calling you it? And do they think I have a chance at dating you?”

“Patton and are you seriously asking me if my friends think you should ask me out? Dude, if you want to date me just ask me if I want to go on a date. Or is being ridiculously convoluted a game of yours?” Virgil scolded, shaking his head, trying to decide if there was some kind of mind game happening in the moment or not.

“Okay then, Date me, Emo kid! We can go ravage a farm search for signs of mold and decay among all their crops and end with a picnic of snacks I invented recipes for in class!” Remus just shrugged at the tone, moving on to what was requested of him,

That was even further from Virgil’s expectations of the response than Logan saying Remus was set on finding him had been. Most people were at least a little put off by how harshly he reacted whe uncertain of situations. “Can we start with the food? My brain will just panic over how I could die from being close to mold and then eating if we do it your way round.”

“Of course we can. Let’s meet at Gorse Hill farm at like 2pm on Saturday for our date then!” Remus jumped up from his spot then, a wild grin on his face as he waved, heading off. “Can’t wait for it, Stachbotrys.”

[abduct-me-helen]

Class 108′s Apocalypse Field Trip | Chapter 3.

Katie was the first one to recover, turning her knife on Mr. Sims and charging forward. Martin yanked him out of the way.

“Woah! Woah, woah. Hey!” he said, waving his arms to get her to calm down.

“Katie.” Rosie barked, which in that tone meant “stand down.”

Katie withdrew, not taking her eyes off her former teacher. “You can’t be real. You obviously aren’t human, and-”

“If you put down the knife, I promise I’ll give you answers.” Jon said, hands up and breathing steady.

Katie glanced over to Rosie, who narrowed her eyes in thought then gave a quick nod. She begrudgingly lowered her weapon, eyes still locked with the two newcomers in the room.

There was a moment of silence.

“What the fuck just happened?” Riko asked, slipping her glasses off in disbelief.

“I…I smited him.” Jon answered awkwardly. “Okay, how about we get everyone in here and then we can have…a class.”

“A class.” Katie deadpanned. Jon nodded, and she shrugged, standing up and gesturing for Riko to come with her while she fetched Elliot and Raphi, who were still in the other classroom. Probably kissing. Ugh.

An awkward silence filled the air, before Tabitha turned to the window and tilted her head. “Who opened the blinds?”

The rest of the kids shook their heads, and Tabitha sighed, turning the rod to the right and shutting the outside world out of sight.

“Eyeball daddy must’ve wanted to say hi.” she said thoughtfully.

Jon choked, and Martin had a look of mild horror on his face as he patted Jon’s back to stop him from coughing.

“E-exuse me?” he stammered.

Tabitha was unfazed.

“Eyeball daddy. You know, the great voyeur? The big smexy eyeball in the sky?”

Martin keeled over wheezing while Jon dropped his jaw.

“The-the Beholding?!” “Smexy?!”

Tabitha wrinkled her nose. “That’s a stupid name. All hail eyeball daddy.”

“All hail eyeball daddy.” The rest of the kids said in unison, looking bored. It was more of a reflex for them at this point.

Martin and Jon shared a look of horror, before Riko entered with Katie, Elliot and Raphi following her.

“Okay then, take a seat. I’ll explain, but, it isn’t pretty.”

“Really? The apocalypse isn’t pretty? I had no idea!” Raphi snarked. Elliot batted him on the head, and Jon was painfully reminded of a similar interaction between Tim and Sasha in the past.

No, he thought, there’s no time to dwell on that.

“There are fourteen entities called the fears that previously existed in a different place outside of our universe. They all have domain over different fears, and people that serve them get…abilities in exchange for feeding the-”

“Like the spiders! And the masked people! And the-” Tabitha cut herself off, “sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself,” she muttered, wringing her hands and tapping her foot.

“No, go on.” Jon prompted her to continue.

She hesitated. “W-we’ve just been noticing patterns…I call them categories. They’re like…really angry colors? If that makes sense?”

Jon looked impressed. “And you just figured all that out?”

She nodded.

He sighed. “Well, you’re not wrong. These “really angry colors” are called the fear powers. Some think them alike to gods, but they don’t have any true motives other than to feed. They aren’t like humans in that respect. They have no motivation.”

The class watched, enraptured as he continued his explanation.

“There’s the Slaughter, fear of war and violence. The Lonely, fear of isolation. The Web, fear of-”

“Being controlled.” Rosie said quietly. Jon nodded.

“Exactly. And-”

“Spiders.” Tabitha shivered, remembering being cocooned in their webs; the feeling of legs crawling over her skin and weaving her in threat.

Jon made a gesture to show that she was right. He continued to explain the rest of the fear powers, until he stopped abruptly.

“And then there’s the Eye.” He said, looking to the closed window. He realized he was running a tape recorder, but at this point he couldn’t care less. The Eye saw everything anyway.

“Wait, hold on, how do you even know any of this?” Elliot asked him, eyes narrowed.

Jon sighed. “Getting to that.”

“The Eye-”

“Eyeball daddy-” “shut up Tabitha-”

“-is the fear of being watched, or being known. I know this one better than all the others, because I…serve it.”

“You what?!” Riko exclaimed, and Katie inched towards her knife.

“I wasn’t exactly given a choice,” he said shortly, rubbing his temples with his palm. “I assume you all know the Magnus Institute?”

Rosie nodded hesitantly. They’d all done their fair share of research on their enigma of a teacher. You would too, if someone like him showed up out of the blue and said cryptic things all the time.

Things that made far more sense these days then she would’ve liked.

“Well, the position of the Archivist, which is what I am, is more or less a trap. You can’t quit, and you become very connected to the Eye. It…changes you.”

“That’s ominous.” Katie muttered. Jon ignored her.

“What’s your connection to all this?” Riko questioned skeptically.

“That’s,” Jon breathed, “that’s a long story.”

“Cut out the boring bits and tell us; it’s not like we have anything better to do.” Elliot shrugged.

“Well, I suppose I started the whole thing.”

“What?!-” “No!-” “How dare you-” “I will fuck you up-”

A chorus of anger erupted in the room, and Martin stepped to the left of Jon’s side.

“He didn’t start it. He’s just guilty about-.”

“If I had fought it-”

“You know full well that wouldn’t have worked. I’m tired of you trying to make yourself the villain.” He stared Jon down begrudgingly.

“Look,” Martin sighed, “I’ll explain since he sees it fit to make himself out to be the enemy here. Our boss, Elias Bouchard, who is actually Jonah Magnus but back to that later, manipulated him. He basically had him marked by all the fourteen fears, and then forced him to complete the ritual that opened the eye. He had no choice in the matter.”

Katie withdrew, and they all relaxed.

“It’s not your fault, then, Mr. Sims.” Sydney said with furrowed brows.

He shook his head. “I…if I hadn’t opened that letter then none of this would’ve happened. I’ve done some bad things.”

“l laughed while one of my best mates got murdered,” Said Tabitha, getting off a desk covered in sharpie doodles.

Jon sighed. “You were under the influence of the Web.”

“And you were under the influence of the eye. How is that different?”

Jon ran a hand through his hair, looking to Martin, who was gazing down on him expectantly. “Fine, yes, I see your point.”

Tabitha nodded, satisfied.

“Why were you here in the first place?” Elliot asked.

“The Eye tells me where to go, and when I found out all of you were alive I decided I needed to come back for you.” Jon answered him, looking to the closed window briefly.

“Come back for us? But we’re safest here!” Sydney protested.

Jon hesitated. “They Eye preserved you because of your connection to me, at least, that’s what I think. It might have been Elias, maybe as a gift? But if I choose to…reject this “present” then you’ll each be thrown into different domains.”

Beat.

“Well fuck.” Tabitha said.

“Language.” Jon said half-heartedly.

“What are you going to do, send her to the principal?” Raphi retorted sarcastically. Tabitha tilted her head towards him and raised her eyebrow at Jon, signifying her agreement

A few people grumbled in agreement, before a pall of silence took over the room.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Asked Cal, who’d been uncharacteristically silent while processing all that had happened.

Jon clenched his fist. “The Panopticon.”

“You mean the tower? That’s not far from here!” Elliot told him.

“Yes, but…space doesn’t work like it used to. We’re going to have to venture through every domain until we can reach it.”

“And what’s the plan?” Katie questioned, expression blank.

“Don’t die? And reset the world” Martin offered.

“That’s it?” Katie said incredulously, her tone affronted.

“It’s a work in progress.” Jon defended.

“Oh well fuck-” “We’re screwed-” “Eyeball daddy, I’m coming for you-” “Bold of you guys to assume I don’t want to die-” “Cypress are you okay-” “If I get into hell I call lava bath-”

Jon facepalmed.

Martin was honestly both concerned and impressed about how they were handling this. If it was him, at this age he would’ve been freaking out and crying, not complaining.

“How are you so calm about this?” He asked, brows furrowed in surprise.

Raphi shrugged. “We’re Gen Z. We had lockdown drills all the time preparing us for a shooter, and once you think of that shit enough it’s not like you aren’t surprised when it happens. We’ve never been afraid of dying, we’re just afraid of watching the world burn,” the other kids nodded in agreement, “and look where that fucking got us.”

Martin was honestly stunned, but he chose not to comment.

“How poetic of you, Raph.” Elliot cooed.

“Oh, fuck off.”

There was a bittersweet moment of hesitation, before Tabitha yelled. “We’re going to win this, fuckers! We have the power of God and Anime on our side! Hiya!” She did the motions from the vine, and the rest of the class followed.

“Hiya!”

-

“List?” Rosie asked, checking supplies off her clipboard.

“Check!”

“Everyone have a weapon or something they can use as one? No, Elliot, I do not count your “bulging muscles” as a weapon. Stop pouting.”

“Check!”

“Everyone grab a buddy. Sydney will be with Tabitha and I, so everyone else should be in pairs. I think that’s everything.”

Rosie turned to Jon and Martin, who were waiting for her to finish the roll call. Jon raised an eyebrow.

Rosie rolled her eyes. “It helps to have some semblance of order here.”

Martin elbowed him, and Jon grumbled something Rosie didn’t understand.

And so, class 108 started their field trip.

-

“Elliot! Raphi! Cypress! Stop making videos! We need to move.” Jon called irritably, annoyed at the loud, bad music that these kids were filming themselves dancing to. It made absolutely no sense to him.

He didn’t like it.

“But we’re doing Tik Toks, Mr. Sims!” Cypress called back.

“You-you’re doing what?” Jon asked confusedly.

“Tik Toks!” Elliot repeated, which did not help at all.

“I-what’s a Tik Tok?” Jon ran his hands through his hair.

“Google-y-eyes it!” Elliot answered.

“Not funny.” He muttered, already getting a headache.

“It was, actually. His puns are great.” Raphi, who’s hearing was only secondary to Katie in the class rankings, (they made a list a few years back), heard him muttering and shouted to him without stopping the dance.

“Fine-what the hell is that?” Jon said, affronted as he began to Know what these “Tik Toks” were.

Insidious.

“That’s a Tik Tok Mr. Sims!” Cypress told him.

“Why are they dancing?”

“To get Tik Tok famous Mr. Sims!”

Jon was notably distressed, so he took out a cigarette and discretely lit it.

Tabitha whipped towards him. “Chris, is that a WEED?”

“W-what?”

“I’m calling the police!”

Christ, these kids were going to be the death of him.

[pseud0knots]

Please tell me about shatterstar's Childhood

oh my god anon okay I’m assuming in context of what I’ve recently posted you want like... my version of events rather than what’s canon but just in case I hope you know that there’s basically zero canon material that actually describes his childhood/young adulthood beyond “I was a warrior born” or whatever the fuck. if you want to know about that idk go on the fucken... marvel wiki page or something

also--I hate that I have to put this out here and I doubt anyone would actually do this but just in case--I have spent like 1 million hours thinking about this because I have brain disorders and it is very close to my heart so please do not A) use this in fics, etc without letting me know/getting my permission in advance or B) reblog this post

anyways. this is a can of worms so I’m going to do a cheeky lil

first we have to get something out of the way: I hate the “shatterstar’s his own grandpa” paradox. I am sorry if this angers people but it makes me mad so I ignore it. the reason it bothers me is because it means alison blaire essentially married her grandson, which is A) weird and B) bad from a genetics perspective.

in my version of canon ‘star IS the biological child of longshot and dazzler but longshot wasn’t cloned using ‘star’s DNA because..... oh god... another whole separate post can be made about this but... in my head, on mojoworld the way genetic engineering works is not really the same as it is here. here genetic engineering generally means taking an existing genome and inserting or deleting genes. this is how they make, for example, animals that glow, or confer pesticide resistance to plants.

but on mojoworld I think the way they genetically engineer is more like... the way we mechanically engineer. like the entire organism is built from the ground up. there’s a master genetic blueprint which is essentially the “minimal genome” required for a functioning humanoid. this was created by study of Earth humans by arize and the other genetic engineers. they can then go in and customize by adding elements to the genome that code for the signals/building blocks that control things like height, strength, hair color, eye color, having hollow bones etc. so in my head longshot was sort of... designed with ‘star as the inspiration, but not directly cloned. that wouldn’t even make sense anyways because A) different hair color and B) LONGSHOT HAS 3 FINGERS ON EACH HAND and shatterstar has 4!! thats NOT HOW CLONES WOULD WORK!!!!

(side note, the concept of a minimal functional genome is a real thing in biology! some scientists have taken a bacterium that already has a small genome and reduced it to the minimum size required for viability. here is a wikipedia article on it and here is the original paper (DOI: 10.1126/science.286.5447.2165) which I can explain in more detail because I took a class on synthetic biology which this technically falls under and I had to read this paper very closely).

fuck I’ve written 4 paragraphs and not even talked about his childhood yet. I am so sorry. anyways. so the way I think they raise the gladiators on mojoworld is they create them in batches of 5 to 10 identical copies of a certain “model”, place each copy in a different “class” with a set of 2-3 mentors/teachers, and train them to fight until they are 13 or 14. until this time the only names they have are the names that identify the “model”--like for shatterstar that would be gaveedra-seven where the model identifier is “gaveedra” and he is (in the lore that I have come up with) the 7th of 8 total.

the reason they create multiples and put them in different classes is each mentor is going to have a slightly different style of teaching which is going to work better for some and worse for others, so it allows them to have more mass production while increasing the chances of creating a truly great champion. it’s classic nature versus nurture--the genetic engineers create your nature, but you don’t end up exactly the same as others of your model. maybe you get an edge, maybe you don’t.

another thing that happens is different mentors believe in different ways of raising the kids in their care. shatterstar specifically was raised in a class where there was absolutely zero emotional development at all and no attachments allowed beyond fighting alliances. that’s not the case in all classes, and it also had the effect of making him somewhat of an outsider even within the other gladiators as he got older.

at 13 or 14--and yes I realize this is very fucked up but dude its fucking mojoworld idk what you expected--they start participating in fights. the first ones aren’t to the death and they’re as teams and they’re not usually televised they’re more like high school sports games that are attended by scouts (here, they’re “sponsors”--I think that’s a canonical term but I honestly can’t remember) and if you get sponsored you leave your class and join a new “team” that’s really just a bunch of people who all have the same sponsorship. this is where things can get interesting because they’ve all been raised with slightly different fighting styles but more importantly, slightly different degrees of Personhood.

also at this point I should mention that by this time, there are usually only 2, maybe 3 of each model left. either they died or were recognized as not having talent so they were sent to eventually fulfill other roles in the network. in ‘star’s case there was just him and gaveedra-five. once you get to the stage where you’re sponsored and you’re actually fighting to the death one of the first people you’ll fight is any remaining members of your model group.

by the time you’re the only one left of your group, you’re also eligible to earn a stage name. this usually happens if you have a particularly epic fight with a lot of viewers, you win and the commentators will typically say something like “Let’s give this crowd a real name to cheer!” and they’ll have a few candidate names and they’ll kind of just pick one. AUGH I actually have this scene written out in story form but its too long so I think I’ll save it.... :) 

after you get a name you also get a cool outfit and usually some kind of mark or tattoo that serves as a brand. this brings me to another important point--shatterstar inherited the X-gene from alison and therefore he IS a mutant. his mutation is the swords vibration thing and the glowing eye. the star mark is a tattoo and teleportation is benjamin russell’s mutation (how he fits into all this is... for another post). basically after he got his name the costuming department guys were like “hey your eye glows, you look like the Legendary Warrior of Old, Longshot, we’re gonna pattern your look after him” so they gave him the star tattoo and the outfit that’s literally inverse colors of longshot’s.

also this brings me to another aside: you’re probably wondering “if he’s the biological kid of longshot and alison how are there 8 gaveedras?” when the genetic engineers got a hold on him as a baby they were like Sick! free baby! free genetic material! thats our job done for us! so they cloned him (in the traditional sense) and made 7 copies. this was also to kind of conceal his identity as technically being from outside mojoworld, which would make him stick out and thus be a target. they DID edit out the x-gene in the other gaveedra models though. this wasn’t a problem for ‘star because his mutation didn’t manifest until he was already sponsored.

I think that’s .... pretty much it for macroscopic lore on what it was like to be a kid gladiator on mojoworld. now let me give you some Tidbits of his life specifically:

like I said he was raised in a particularly cold and ruthless class. the mentors that raised him are like well-known by everyone to produce some of the best warriors but also there’s discourse on mojoworld because some people say perfectly emotionless killing machines aren’t as fun to watch. when he was sponsored there were 4-5 others in the same sponsorship and they were like Theres Something Wrong With You LOL

they speak earth languages on mojoworld because they’re imitating the broadcasts they (the spineless ones) used to hear from earth. however, most of the lower-class as well as almost all arena fighters and other television personalities speak cadre or other languages which are native to the planet. the stage names are all vaguely in english, but the gladiators don’t really understand them at first.

shatterstar got his name before he got the glowing eye, and when he learned what stars are, and saw his eye as a little star, he was like wow :) this is Me :) which is why that name is so important to him. it’s also one of the first things that wholly belonged to him.

(you can’t see stars on mojoworld because of light pollution and also because it’s a pocket dimension and there just aren’t that many stars to see)

I hate to bring up the s**ley miniseries but I do think it would be interesting to have him have a sort of ... mentor/first friend, similar to the concept of gringrave but they were NOT in a relationship. it was more like... another kid who was a year or so older than him got a soft spot for him and helped him not be so clueless. she didn’t make as much progress as xforce did, obviously. but they were.... something like friends.

unfortunately she was used by spiral to get shatterstar to murder the first rebel guy who tried to get him out of there. then she got switched sponsors (this can happen) and he had to kill her, and he was like well I will simply never develop any kind of attachment to anyone ever again.

he almost didn’t make it out of the first training session with his sponsorship group (this is semi-canon--there’s a reference when he’s teaching terry to swordfight to almost not surviving the first time he was in a gladiator class or whatever it was).

the closest he ever came to losing was the day he got the name. that’s why the crowds loved it so much.

the double-bladed sword was a gimmick weapon but when he got his mutation they realized it works way better if there’s resonance between two parallel blades so they redesigned it as an actual weapon.

(forgot this but I feel like I should include it) at 17 he escaped the arenas and joined the cadre alliance. two years later he came to earth and joined xforce.

I think that’s going to have to be it for now because it’s literally almost midnight and I have work tomorrow and I did NOT intend to stay up this late but I did. thank you for this opportunity anon :) feel free to ask me any other questions and also I realize a lot of this probably makes no fucking sense and that’s because I am not a writer or anything I’m just a biochemist with brain problems that cause me to obsess over stupid shit

[welllpthisishappening]

One Foot In (3/7)

The facts were these.

Killian Jones was dead. This much Emma knew, standing in the middle of the funeral parlor staring at him. What she didn’t know was why. Or how. Or what she would do when she touched him.

Because Emma Swan had a gift. Touch a dead thing once, bring it back to life. Touch it again, dead forever.

And the last thing Emma could do was bring Killian back to life, talk to him for the first time in years, only to watch him die all over again. Not when she’d spent the better part of those same years being in love with him.

—–

Rating: Teen, but eventually they’re going to kiss Word Count: 9.3K this chapter. Again.  AN: I continue to have a lot of thoughts and feelings about all the thoughts and feelings you guys have about this mess of words. Thanks for being lovely. We get to that eventually this chapter. Also, happy hockey day internet. Yesterday obviously didn’t count because the Rangers don’t play until tonight. 

@shireness-says​ @optomisticgirl​ @nikkiemms, @teamhook, @dayo488​, @greymeetsblue​, @jennjenn615​, @heavenlyjoycastle​, @klynn-stormz​, @superchocovian​, @onepunintendid​, @jonesfandomfanatic​, @lfh1226-linda​

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll ||

—–

Emma Swan is twenty-nine years, six months, twenty-three days and, approximately, eight and half hours old when she wakes up to an empty apartment. 

This, normally, would not be cause for distress, but Emma is less than twenty-four hours removed from making sure Killian Jones wasn’t buried in the same cemetery she once kissed him in and they probably should have discussed the rules more. 

Like the never leave her apartment rules. 

Because everyone thought he was dead rules. 

Emma exhales, a breath of air she didn’t realize she was holding onto until she suddenly realizes how much she desperately needs it and it cannot be healthy for her vision to keep fading in and out like that. She assumes it’s a symptom of something. Possibly insanity. 

She feels a little insane. 

And questionably well rested. 

Because for someone who broke most of the most fundamental rules of the universe the day before, Emma didn’t wake up once all night. 

She refuses to acknowledge that that is probably a sign too. 

“Ok, get a grip, Swan,” she mumbles, mostly to herself because she is, in fact, the only person in that apartment. “He can’t have gone that far.”

Pushing out of the pile of blankets tangled between her legs, she glances around her admittedly small living room and the smile on her face feels equal parts unnatural, incredulous and a little overwhelmed. And kind of charmed. 

The blankets on the other side of the room are all folded – sharp corners and folds that are, very likely, Naval grade and the clothes he’d slept in are next to them, looking as if they’ve just been dropped off by the world’s most effective dry cleaners. 

This, however, does not give Emma any sense of where the hell Killian has actually gone and she can’t keep talking to herself. That’s a line she refuses to cross and a rabbit hole she refuses to go down and she jogs into the kitchen before she realizes that’s where she’s decided to go next. 

The plates are still in the sink, not much looking out of place, but Emma has been spending most of her free time with Ruby for years now and she’s got an eye for these things or something that would definitely make Ruby laugh and there’s a peace of paper folded on top of the coffee maker. 

His handwriting is different than it was when he was a kid, not quite as lopsided as it was when he got points taken off a spelling test for illegibility that required Liam to meet with the teacher. It’s blunter now, like he’s trying to work out all his emotions about the entire state of the world in a few letters on a piece of paper that Emma can’t even begin to imagine he found easily. 

You didn’t have any coffee left. You’re an awful hostess. 

Her hand doesn’t shake when she reads it, a moral victory she’ll probably hold onto for the rest of the day, and her smile still feels incredibly out of place. 

Because Killian is not in her apartment. 

Or dead. 

That’s probably the most important part of the whole thing. 

Emma genuinely has no idea what sound she makes in response to that. It’s not a laugh, she’s teetering far too close to those metaphorical precipices to actually find much humor in the situation, but it’s not actually a scoff or a groan either. It’s a weird mixture of all three, a sound that actually manages to hurt her throat on the way out before lingering in the air and pressing down on every side of her skull and he’s right; she doesn’t have any coffee. 

She was going to go to the store last night. 

She got a little sidetracked. 

God, now she wants a cheeseburger too. 

And Emma is disappointed she didn’t realize exactly where a very-much alive Killian Jones went as soon as she woke up. Because, once, when she was seven and he was eight – only a few days after his birthday and he’d been bragging about being older and wiser and several other things that made Emma kick at his ankles – he’d decided he wanted to know what was underneath that one man hole on Main Street. 

And the only way to figure out what was underneath that one man hole on Main Street was to lift it up, climb. down and start exploring. Immediately. He’d ignored most of Emma’s protests, smiling and nodding like she was making any progress in the argument, and eventually she’d run out of fight and gotten a flashlight out of the hallway closet. 

They didn’t find much of anything, just managed to ruin both of their shoes and Ingrid resolutely refused to give them pie for three straight days because they had to throw away their clothes when she couldn’t get the smell out and—

“He went back downstairs,” Emma sighs, shaking her head in something close to disbelief. 

She doesn’t time herself, but she assumes that she gets ready in record time – only a few minutes and a few droplets of water thrown at her face, not even bothering to brush her hair before tugging it up while jogging down the stairs to her own restaurant. Emma put the note in the back pocket of her jeans. 

Killian doesn’t immediately look up when Emma walks in, skidding across the linoleum tile of the kitchen floor, but she can see his lips quirk slightly and, if put under oath, she would swear his eyes get brighter. 

That is a scientific impossibility, Emma is sure. She’s also not entirely convinced they’re dealing with normal science. 

She doesn’t know what category magic fingers fall under. 

He’s half leaning on the counter, arms crossed lightly over the button-up he was wearing the day before and feet crossed at the ankles, a mug of what is, presumably, coffee in his right hand. There’s no tie, which is probably for the best because Emma isn’t sure she’d be able to handle that. 

And he’s not alone. 

“Hey, Em,” Graham says brightly, and Emma is glad she’s not holding anything. She would drop it. Killian’s tongue moves into the corner of his mouth. 

Emma needs to study science more because it feels as if the blood actually falls out of her face, vision doing that thing again and she’d just like some kind of confirmation if that’s even possible. 

Killian doesn’t move, although his eyes do narrow, a hint of a concern shifting into the space between him and Emma. There is not much space between him and Emma. 

“So, uh...I met your friend,” Graham continues, eyes doing an admirable job of looking like they’re bouncing around a pinball machine. “Didn’t really know you had friends.”

Killian snorts into his coffee, and Emma is torn between scandalized and...mostly scandalized. 

“I have friends,” Emma sputters. Graham does not look convinced. “Are you not my friend?” “I am your employee.” “Ok, well...yes, that’s technically true, but—” “—Do you want to share friendship bracelets, Em? Is that what you’re telling me?” “There’s no need to be a jerk about this.” “What about those little heart pendants? Where we each have half? Or is that too retro for us? We’re some kind of proper millennial relationship, right?” Emma scowls – an expression that is starting to become her default setting, and Killian is suspiciously silent. Until he isn’t. 

“We had matching temporary tattoos one summer,” he says softly, and Graham nearly falls over. He doesn’t actually, which makes it eight-hundred thousand times worse, and Emma briefly considers drinking the coffee straight out of the pot. 

She assumes burning her tongue beyond recognition will, somehow, ground her. 

“That so?” Graham asks, voice going gruff and disbelieving. “What summer was this? Recently?” “Do you honestly think I am the kind of person who has had a temporary tattoo in recent history?” Emma mutters. Graham shrugs. 

“I have a sudden and very strong suspicion I don’t know much about you at all, boss. It’s not for lack of trying, but…” He trails off in a way that makes Emma’s stomach twist uncomfortably, an allusion to almosts and possibilities that were never really either because Emma doesn’t like those words and she’s much better on her own. 

It’s safer that way. Less connection, means less possibility for getting hurt. Or something. 

She can’t really remember the reason for anything anymore, particularly when she can feel Killian’s eyes boring a hole in the side of her head and her pulse has only recently recovered from finding her apartment as empty as it normally is. 

“If memory serves, Swan was eight,” Killian says, still speaking mostly into his coffee cup. “She’d gotten a rather disappointing mark in third-grade science.” Graham’s shoulders shake when he chuckles. “What kind of science is third grade science?” “The most basic science possible.” “That’s a complete and total lie,” Emma argues. “That was...there was that frog thing involved and I—” “—Resolutely refused to do the assignment,” Killian finishes. “Did you also get detention?” Emma nods, not as stunned as she probably should be that he remembers this so well. Although, he’d also gotten detention with her because if Swan isn’t going to dissect the frog, then I’m not either. “Ingrid was furious,” Emma says. “She said we were challenging authority and couldn’t I have just done what I was supposed to do for once in my life.” “I always thought that was a little heavy-handed. What did the frog ever do to you that it deserved to get cut up like that?” “Died, apparently.” Killian hums, the conversation drifting dangerously close to topics they absolutely cannot discuss in front of Graham. “That was awfully rude of him to do that.”

“Maybe. I’m not sure the frog would agree with that, though.” They stare at each other for a moment – metaphors and metaphorical dances of the conversational variety and Graham coughs pointedly when they don’t do anything else. “Anyway,” Killian says, a forced brightness to the word that makes Emma’s jaw clench. “Swan refused to cut apart the frog, Ingrid was very upset about it, as was the teacher, God, what was her name?” “Ms. Feinberg,” Emma answers. Honestly, Graham does not appear to be breathing at this point. 

“That’s right. That’s right. She wore that ridiculous fur coat in the winter and—” “—We thought she could control the animals with her voice. Some kind of ridiculous magical thing that made a lot of sense when I was eight.” “Does it not make sense now?” Emma shrugs, not sure how she manages to stay upright when it feels as if the floor shakes under her feet. “How’d you get coffee?” “I’m absolutely incredible in unfamiliar situations,” Killian grins. He leans forward as he says it, another test of fate that Emma can’t voice and he knows she can’t voice and she’s going to have to give Graham an entire week off for subjecting him to whatever this might be. It feels like flirting. Again. “Also your coffee maker does not require me to be a rocket scientist, love.” Graham sounds like he’s choking. 

“You ok?” Emma asks as he continues to sputter on oxygen. 

“Yup, yup, yup,” Graham nods brusquely. “I’m fine. Totally fine. So, uh...you two knew each other when you were younger then? What was Emma like when she was a kid? Aside from the weird science thing.”

“It’s not weird to refuse to dissect a frog,” Emma hisses. “I was a kid. I liked animals.” She wishes she could come up with another phrase then kill him because that feels a little insensitive and Emma clearly doesn’t want to kill Killian, but he keeps laughing and pouring more coffee. He twists around, opening a cabinet he shouldn’t know is there and offers Emma a mug. 

“I don’t know how you take your coffee, Swan,” he says quietly.

Emma reaches out slowly, careful not to touch his fingers and it’s as weird as possible – gripping the mug from the top while Graham’s actual head snaps back and forth. “Cream and three and a half sugars,” she says. “If it’s not espresso.” “You don’t have an espresso machine?” “It’s not that kind of restaurant. Espresso is way too new wave.” “New wave,” Killian echoes, but there’s nothing even resembling teasing in any of the letters. He says them as if he’s chasing them and they’re both still holding the goddamn mug. 

“Yeah. I’m not...great at change, really. Like. At all, you know.” He lets go of the mug. 

She doesn’t drop it. So, points to her or whatever. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Graham says. He waves both his hand through the air, as if that will clear it or make any of this make sense and maybe Emma should just give him two weeks off. “I am...very confused. I thought you knew each other. You…” He glances at Killian, blinking quickly. “I don’t know your name.” “That’s because I never told you,” Killian says. 

“And?” “And...what?” “Ok, you’re really not going to tell me your name? Are you...Em, what the hell is going on right now?”

Emma shakes her head, not sure where to begin or how to explain and Killian is pouring her coffee. As if that’s a normal thing that is allowed to happen and the urge to run is almost overpowering. That’s always been her thing – even when she was eight years old and refused to follow the rules of a science class that was almost too dependent on rules and a classroom that smelled like formaldehyde no matter what they happened to be studying that week. 

Emma does not do conflict. She does disappearing acts, her own personal brand of magic that’s served her and her slightly patched-together heart very well for the last twenty years, but that same heart is really only patched together because it was forced to run away from the man in front of her who, once upon a time, wouldn’t let her get in trouble by herself. 

So she doesn’t run.  

She swallows instead, biting back words and explanations and the very real desire to just scream as loud as she’s capable of. 

“You want to double check on the napkin dispensers?” Emma asks, not actually looking at Graham and that does admittedly feel like kind of a dick move. 

“I’m sorry, what? Was that the answer to the question? Seriously who the fu—” “The napkin dispensers,” she cuts in sharply. Emma turns her whole body when she speaks, hopeful that her face betrays the regret she feels festering in the tips of her fingers. “Just...you know make sure that they’re full.” “Are we expecting some kind of mad pie rush today?” “God, I hope not. Also, why are you here early?” Graham’s expression shifts – tremulous and clearly concerned about Emma’s immediate reaction to whatever he’s about to say. He glances Killian’s direction, but is only met with slightly interested eyebrows and a recently refilled coffee mug. 

“You heard her,” Killian mutters. It’s not quite a threat, although Emma can’t stop the shiver that drifts down her spine and lingers in between her hips, a flash of cold that makes her wonder if they’ve suddenly time traveled to the middle of December. 

He hops onto the edge of the counter when Graham’s mouth drops slightly, eyebrows still as high as ever and hackles almost visibly raised. 

Emma has no idea what hackles even are. 

“Hey,” she says, waving a dismissive hand as close as she can get to Killian without ensuring disaster. “What…” Emma trails off when she realizes she can’t formulate that question either, another head shake that makes her neck ache. “Alright,” she continues. “I want a straight answer Humbert. What are you doing here so early?”

Graham shuffles on his feet again. “Ruby called me. Late last night. Which, honestly I thought you were dead, but she promised you weren’t, just that you might be and—” “—I’m sorry, I might be?” “Emma, if you keep interrupting me, I’m never going to finish the story and I’ve got a jam-packed schedule of refilling napkin containers.” “Are they that empty?” “Emma!” "Fine, fine,” she grumbles, shooting a glare Killian’s direction when he dares to laugh at what may be her very real mental breakdown. 

“I didn’t say a word, Swan,” he grins. 

Graham coughs again, but it also sounds a bit like a groan and three weeks of vacation seems almost exorbitant. “Ruby called me,” he repeats. “Was certain there was something going on with you and that you were acting shady after you guys left here yesterday morning. She said she’d been doing some research and some names had come up and—” “—Wait, what kind of names?” Emma interrupts. Graham throws a strawberry out of the closest bowl at it, the fruit bouncing off her left hand and landing at her feet – rotten, again. 

Killian slides off the counter. 

“Do you mind giving us a couple of minutes?” he asks, stepping in front of Emma like he’ll be able to block her from the threat of the one waiter she employees. She has to dig her nails into her palms to resist touching him again, those ridiculous and inconvenient magnets proving particularly problematic once more. 

She doesn’t hear whatever Graham says in response, is far too busy trying to figure out what the buzzing in the back of her head is. It sounds a bit like flies, or maybe a little more like bees, a hum and a sound that isn’t quite distracting, but feels a little powerful. 

The noise grows the longer she stays in one place, as if it’s getting stronger or more intense, knocking at the edges of Emma’s consciousness. It feels a bit like a memory she forgot, but is desperate to remember and that doesn’t make any sense at all. It’s déjà vu, a familiarity and a reminder and it almost feels warm, like it’s wrapping its way around her shoulders and holding her tight and Emma doesn’t think it’s a threat. 

She’s got no idea what the hell it is, but she doesn’t think it’s trying to hurt her. 

It might be trying to help her. 

Or remind her. 

And she nearly jumps out of her skin when Killian tugs on the side of her shirt. 

“Holy shit,” Emma growls, stumbling backwards. “What the hell were you thinking?” “You’re going to have to be more specific, Swan.” “What time did you get down here?” He shrugs, an air of nonchalance that’s far more frustrating with the noise that’s starting to ebb in between her ears. “Not long before you got here.” “Was Graham down here?” “No, he showed up in the middle of my quest for coffee. He’s fairly desperately in love with you, you know.” Emma blinks. “Ah, shut up,” she says before she can come up with a better retort and, that time, Killian’s answering laugh is almost warranted. 

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” “Yes. You can’t...you can’t do, like, any of the things you have done in the last hour.” “I wasn’t aware of the rules.” “Well there are rules,” Emma snaps, and she knows it’s not his fault. He was dead yesterday. And now he’s not and that’s got to be messing with his head, no matter what he tells her. Even if he keeps staring at her that very particular way, as if she’s some kind of magical being descended from on high to...do something. Emma isn’t sure what yet. 

Killian moves back towards the counter, grabbing the strawberries along the way. The whole thing is ridiculous. “And they are?” “You can’t come down here. Not...not without telling me or when Graham is down here and—” “—And just who exactly is Graham, Swan? He seemed quite interested in figuring out who I am.” “Because you aren’t supposed to be in the kitchen!”

“No, I don’t think that’s it. I think it’s because he’s hopelessly, inextricably head over heels in love with you and he made several different assumptions as soon as he saw me. Do you not often have men in your kitchen, love?” “That’s not even clever.” “And that’s a very pointed attempt at not answering the question.” 

Emma huffs, crossing her arms, but that only serves to twist up her shirt and Killian’s eyes dart towards the suddenly obvious patch of skin above her right hip bone. “No,” she mutters. “That’s not...this has never happened before.” Killian eats another strawberry. 

“And Graham, he doesn’t...he’s not a partner in your side endeavors?” Emma shakes her head. “He knows that sometimes I take elongated breaks that usually require Ruby to arrive, but other than that, no. He’s got no idea. No one does.” “Why not?” “Why not?” Emma balks, voice rising of its own accord. Killian’s face doesn’t shift, but she can see his tongue press on the inside of his cheek and that might be one of his tells. “No one can know that,” she presses. “It’s...that’s way more power than anyone should have. Life and death and—death.” “You said that twice,” Killian points out. His own voice drops, like it’s trying to balance out Emma’s near-shriek and she probably shouldn’t be taking comfort from it, but she can still dimly make out the buzzing in the back of her brain. 

“I left Storybrooke and I got shipped around the country. I bounced around from group home to foster homes and houses and no one was ever even remotely interested in actually adopting me. One family tried to use me as a tax break, but that was as close as I got and it was never...it was never Ingrid. It was never you.”

She has to take a deep breath to stop herself from crying and Emma isn’t sure how the words keep coming, but Killian Jones is in her kitchen and everything seems to fall out of her without much concern about her set of rules. 

“There was never anyone,” Emma continues. “So I learned to keep to myself and figure things out on my own and it’s better that way, don’t you think? No chance of making a mistake or doing something wrong and I’ve managed to rationalize the whole thing with Ruby.” “Justice being served, huh?” Killian asks knowingly. 

“Yeah, exactly that.” “I can’t just stay in your apartment forever, love.” The endearment switch catches her off guard, a trend that Emma should really start expecting at this point. Nothing seems like it’s on even ground anymore. 

“People know you’re dead,” Emma argues. “There were news reports and, well, you heard it. Your name was there and there were graphics and—”

“—All of that seems a little tacky, don’t you think?” “I’m not here to debate the merits of journalism with you.” “Then what are you going to do, Swan? Because I’m not going to stay cooped up forever. I can’t. I did that for a very long time and I won’t—”

“I told you,” Graham announces, turning towards the wide-open door of the restaurant where a fuming Ruby appears to be doing her best impression of carved marble. “Doesn’t he look just like that dead guy on the news?”

Emma drops the coffee mug in her hand. 

“He looks exactly like that dead guy on the news,” Ruby seethes. She stands in the doorway for a few more moments, likely considering where to dump Emma’s body when she inevitably kills her, but then the clack of her heels moving towards the kitchen sounds impossibly loud and Emma regrets not getting dental insurance. 

She’s got a feeling she’ll need it sooner rather than later. 

“That’s super weird,” Graham continues, stuffing a handful of napkins into the container at table six. “Didn’t he die under suspicious circumstances?” “They don’t know,” Emma bites out. She chances a glance at Killian who, it seems, has also frozen, fingers wrapped around another strawberry. 

Ruby’s laugh is distinctly lacking any humor. “Or so the reports go.” “I heard some rumors there was some shady stuff involved,” Graham says. Emma’s head is going to fly off her neck. That would be for the best – then she could ignore the whole situation entirely. 

“What kind of shady stuff?” Graham shrugs, dropping the container back onto the table and every noise sounds magnified. Emma has to glance down to make sure there aren’t sparks shooting out of her fingers. There are not. That’s almost disappointing. 

“Well they didn’t find anyone else there, did they?” Graham asks. “At the scene, I mean? Usually there’d at least be a suspect or something.” “Maybe you should be the PI,” Ruby drawls. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re hysterical, Lucas. I’m just saying. There should be DNA or something right? And they said he lost his hand. But...no hand at the crime scene.” “What?” Killian snaps, looking only slightly affronted when Ruby glares at him. “Where did it go?”

“Do you think I’m aware of dead peoples missing limbs?” Graham asks. 

Emma’s never had an actual heart attack, so she can’t be entirely certain of what the symptoms are or what it actually feels like, but she assumes it sort of feels like this. Her arms feel too heavy for her body, hands like weights dragging her into the kitchen floor. Bobbing on her feet, she tries to dispel the extra energy she’s suddenly flush with and that can’t possibly be medicinal.

No one notices at first – Ruby far too busy asking Graham where he’s getting his sources and Graham snarking back and it’s not a surprise when Emma feels Killian’s gaze move back towards her and her tiny vertical jump. 

“Swan,” he starts, leaning forward. “What…” “Oh, no, no, no,” Ruby shouts. Her hair hits the side of her face when she shakes her head, eyes bordering on dangerous and possibly tinted as red as the highlights in her hair. “No, no, you did not call her that. Is that...Humbert, you need to get out of here.” Graham drops another napkin container. “What? I work here, Lucas.” “I don’t care.” “You are not my boss.” “Get out of here, Humbert!” He lifts his hands in frustration, clearly waiting for Emma to object, but her jaw is stuck mid-clench and there is something wrong here and a heart attack probably shouldn’t last this long. “Fine” Graham growls. “Fine. You guys want to play secret and not act like this is the first time Emma has acknowledged there are other human beings on this planet, that’s fine with me.”

He’s gone in a huff of napkins and knocked over chairs, the bell on the door ringing loudly as soon as he slams it behind him. 

And for half a moment Emma is almost hopeful they won’t say anything else. They’ll just stand there until the end of time when the meteors come and dinosaurs return or however the world is going to end and she’ll be able to avoid this particular brand of conflict. 

“Emma.” No such luck. Killian is still staring at her. 

“So, guess we’ve got some things to talk about, huh?” Ruby asks, more forced calm that’s almost worse than screaming and shouting and throwing fruit. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” “The truth would just...blow my mind.” Emma sighs, closing her eyes and trying to come up with something that’s even remotely possible and everything sounds worse than the last lie. “I couldn’t,” she whispers, staring at her shoes. Her shoes are less judgmental than the other two people in the kitchen. 

“He is kind of dreamy. I think it’s the hair. Or the earring.” Emma lifts her head – Ruby grinning knowingly at her because Ruby knows that other rule and they’ll have to deal with that eventually. Preferably when Killian isn’t within hearing distance. 

“I think my uncles thought it was a joke,” Killian murmurs, tugging lightly on the jewelry and the wisps of hair that curl just behind his ear. “I looked this morning. Just to make sure I wasn’t taking on any zombie-like characteristics.” “You’re not a zombie,” Emma groans. He grins at her. 

“No harm in double checking. But I noticed the earring and that’s definitely Nemo’s, so...in the grand scheme I suppose it’s nice.” “Who’s Nemo?” Ruby asks, grabbing a pie off the counter and two forks. She hands one to Killian. And they’re all taking this surprisingly well. 

Emma may be the only one who isn’t. 

“The aforementioned uncle,” Killian says. “This one is good too, Swan.” “All Emma’s pies are good.” “Are you two bonding right now?” Emma demands. “Because that’s...Ruby are you not furious?” Ruby nods, tugging the fork out of her mouth slowly. “Oh I’m super pissed at you, but you’re currently exercising three of the five tells, so I figure you’re doing a really great job of beating yourself up already. Also I’ve got some news and, like, eighty-thousand questions.” “Only eighty-thousand?” Killian asks. 

“At least. Don’t try and play cute with me though, Jones. I’ve got some very strong suspicions about you.” “Such as?” “You weren’t as naive about the situation as you told your girlfriend.”

Killian’s grip on the fork noticeably tightens and Emma should really clean up the puddle of coffee at her foot. It’s starting to seep into her sneaker. Maybe she should buy new sneakers. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, and Emma’s breath catches because she’s incredibly familiar with that particular tone. It’s the same exact tone it was when he was seven and trying to convince Liam he’d only had one slice of pie at Ingrid’s. 

And the tips of his ears go red. 

Ruby shakes her head. “Incorrect. And as much as I hate to admit Humbert is ever right about anything, he does bring up a good point about your hand. What do you remember about that?” “Not much,” Killian lies. 

“Nope, try again.” His eyes dart towards Emma’s, tongue flashing between his lips and it’s as if they’re standing on a tightrope above several dozen crocodiles or alligators, whichever are more dangerous, and there’s probably rain involved too. Just to make everything as slippery as possible. 

“You said you’d already done the cooped up forever thing,” Emma whispers. “And you wouldn’t do it again. What did that mean?” “You ran and I stayed put, Swan.” “English, Jones.” The twist of his answering smile is enough to make Emma’s heart stutter against her rib cage. He tugs the pie plate out of Ruby’s hands, taking another exaggerated bite – eyes never leaving Emma. “Seriously, you should be winning awards for this,” he mutters. “And I didn’t actually lie to you before. I have no idea who actually killed me.” “But?” “But,” he repeats. “I’m not exactly the kid you remember.” “Who are you then?” Killian inhales, only to exhale even sharper and—”It’d really be much easier if I could hold your hand.” Ruby gags. “That’s not a line,” he promises. “That’s...it was always easier that way.” “Start at the beginning,” Ruby commands. He salutes again. 

“My brother died when I was ten years old and it changed my entire life,” Killian explains. “For awhile I thought it ruined my entire life because it meant Emma was gone and, you know no one ever moved into your house, Swan?” She shakes her head, not sure what the right response to that is, but some twisted part of her is almost glad. “They didn’t,” Killian continues. “It was just there, forever, taunting me of what was gone and what wasn’t ever actually coming back. And, well, Shakespeare and Nemo were used to being on the road, but the acting troupe they’d be in for the decade before they got saddled with me...it was on its last legs. There’s no money in it and they sort of stumbled into guardianship without much prep or guidance and they didn’t...they sat in that house and they’d both seen so much already. 

“You know Nemo’s ship was attacked once, that was part of the reason he wanted to avoid the bars on that port leave when he met Shakespeare and they’ve both dealt with so much shit from the world. They weren’t really….they weren’t really interested in the world anymore.” “But I bet you were, weren’t you?” Ruby asks, tugging on the plate again. 

“Not at first. Well, no that’s a lie. I was a shit kid as soon as Swan was gone, always getting in trouble and blowing off class and I think I tried to run away no less than sixteen times before I actually turned sixteen.” “How would you get out of town?” Emma asks, hating how soft her question sounded. 

Killian smirks “I never made it very far. You know Storybrooke, love, eyes everywhere and people gossiping even more. I think Cora Mills caught me trying to sneak out of my house even more than my uncles did.” “Oh she always gave me the creeps.” “You’re going to want to remember that in a second.” “Can you please put a pause on the flirting for, like, point two seconds so we can get on with the story?” Ruby groans. “Time, as they say, is a-slipping.” “You’re not very patient are you?” “It’s a family trait,” Emma mumbles. “You should meet her grandmother.” “Hey,” Ruby cries. “My grandmother taught me every PI trick I know. She’s the reason we’re going to find Jones’ killer and collect both rewards.”

Emma tenses. “Both rewards?” “Yeah, now you’re interested, aren’t you? Keep going Jones. This is almost interesting backstory.” “Almost interesting,” Killian chuckles, and they really should have each gotten their own pie. “Alright, alright. So Cora Mills—the mayor of Storybrooke,” he adds at Ruby’s questioning expression. “She’s been mayor since the dawn of time really, and she’s known I’ve been trying to get out Storybrooke for years, but I never did.” “Why not?” Emma asks, Killian’s hum of confusion feeling as if it lands between each one of her ribs. “I mean...couldn’t you?” “Eh, I’m sure I could have if I put my mind to it. But at some point around high school graduation, which was never entirely a guarantee for me, I realized that Nemo and Shakespeare were done with the world. They were tired of fighting it and tired of trying to find their place in it and—” “—You couldn't leave,” Ruby finishes, a note of sympathy in her voice that stuns Emma more than just about anything else that’s happened. 

Killian hums again. The disappointment and regret in the sound is bitter on Emma’s tongue, and maybe she should be taking some adult-ed science classes because she’s clearly got no idea how any of this works, but she’s never seen that look on his face before. 

As if the whole world has passed him by and left him in the metaphorical dust. 

“They’d given up their whole lives for me,” he mumbles. “And we were good. For a very long time. I...well, I figured out how to make money and I had books.” “Books?” Emma repeats. “You had books?” “I like to read.” “Are you a nerd now?” “I wouldn't go that far. It’s a...hobby, possibly some kind of obsession depending on who you ask. Don't ask my uncles.”

“I promise.”

He smiles at her again – slow and genuine until that replaces the whatever in between Emma’s ribs and she feels as if she breathes normally for the first time since she woke up. Ruby sticks her entire tongue out. 

There are berry stains on it. 

“Is this going to be a thing now?” she shouts. “The flirting? Are we going to flirt our way through several different crime scenes?” Emma tilts her head. “Are there more than one crime scene?” “There might be if Jones doesn’t get better at telling us his goddamn life story. Also, the less sarcastic answer is maybe because I’ve got news, but seriously the life story. If you were good with the shut-ins, why did you leave?” Killian doesn’t answer immediately, and the tension in between his shoulder blades is almost too obvious. Emma isn’t sure she hears him at first. And then she’s not sure she wants to. 

“Nemo got sick,” he says. “Suddenly and...badly? Is that the right word? It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t great and so I was trying to figure out a way to get some money and an opportunity presented itself.” “How?” “Remember creepy Cora Mills?” Emma hates that her jaw drops, but she can’t stop it and she knows this is not a good story. She didn’t expect it to be a good story and it is, somehow, even worse. “What could she possibly offer you?” “Money,” Killian shrugs. “And the chance to get out of Storybrooke, which given the situation paints me in a particularly asshole-light, but that’s always been kind of my MO too and—” “That’s not true.” “You haven’t known me for a very long time, Swan.” “I don’t believe that.” Melting certainly isn’t the right word for whatever happens to Killian’s expression. Emma doesn’t care. It’s the first word her mind comes up with and latches onto, in some misplaced effort to maintain control of a decidedly out of control situation, and she wishes she could hold his hand. 

Too. Or still. 

Or always. 

Honestly, whatever. 

“Thanks,” Killian mutters. “I promise it’s warranted in this situation. I was getting desperate. I never went to college and I couldn't figure out what to do or who to ask.” “No girlfriend to help, then?” Ruby asks archly, ignoring whatever noise Emma makes at that particular question. “What? First of all, that’s a genuine question. Because if there is a girlfriend, then we should probably prepare ourselves for her arrival in defense of Jones’ previously discussed very dreamy face and, second of all, if there is a girlfriend, she probably should have helped him rob a bank or something.” “Are we advocating bank robbing now?” Emma fumes, her anger having nothing to do with the sanctity of the American banking system. 

“No girlfriend,” Killian says. Emma wrings her hands together. So, naturally, Ruby notices. “Anyway, Cora found me one day and told me she had an opportunity if I was interested.” “And were you?”

“I didn’t see any other option, really. It made sense when she explained it. I had to get on the ship and—” “—Wait, wait, there was a ship involved?” Ruby asks. 

“Yeah, a cruise. To uh...shit, where was it to?” “We weren’t on the ship.” “That wasn’t the important part that’s why,” Killian mutters. “It was Tahiti or something. But I was told that I wasn’t supposed to do any of the onshore stuff they do. You know, zip lining and...swimming with sharks or whatever.” “The thought of that always freaked me out,” Ruby muses. 

“Yeah, me too actually. They say it’s safe, but—” “Can we focus, please?” Emma exclaims, met with two wide-eyed expressions for that especially emotional outburst. “Sorry, sorry, just...what were you supposed to be doing on this boat? Oh my God, are you some kind of drug mule?” Killian makes a face, ridiculous enough that Emma has to dig her heels into the ground to make sure she doesn’t try to do something absurd like kiss it off. The rules of the universe can suck it, honestly. 

“Are you kidding me?” “You’re the one who said I didn’t know you anymore!” “I was not a drug mule,” Killian sighs, dropping his fork so he can run his fingers through his hair. “I was...a water mule.” “What does that mean?” “Cora said that once we got to the island, there’d be some people getting on the ship who had something for me. I was supposed to bring it back.” “Did you meet these people?” Ruby asks, business-like and Emma knows she wishes she had a notepad of some kind. She pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket. 

“Yeah, that was kind of the problem.” “How so?”

Killian doesn’t shudder, but it’s awfully close, a nervousness to him that doesn’t match up with anything Emma knows about him. “There was a whole group of them. Each one of them shadier than the next and they all spoke in grunts, I swear.” “Sounds like lackeys.” “Yeah, probably. They didn’t know anything about Cora though, so the orders were coming from higher up and that’s kind of when I realized I’d gotten into something I wasn’t particularly interested in.” “What do you think that was?” “I don’t know exactly,” Killian admits. “But one of the goons handed me a vial of something that was, maybe, filled with water, demanded my immediate and complete silence and told me his boss was expecting me when I got back to New York.” “New York?” Emma asks. “That’s where the ship left from. I asked this guy what exactly it was I was supposed to be moving and how I was supposed to get it through security.” “I’m sure he didn’t appreciate that,” Ruby chuckles. 

“He did not, actually. He told me to shut my mouth and do my job and that, this is where it gets weird, his master wouldn’t be pleased if I deviated from the schedule.” Ruby’s eyebrows pull low. “He switched from boss to master?” “Weird, right?” “Super weird. And incredibly creepy. So what did you do after that?” “I told him that I thought there was a mistake,” Killian says with a laugh that sounds full of a slightly different brand of regret. “And that I wasn’t interested in shipping whatever product they were trying to move. I don’t remember much after that, but I do remember the vial falling and breaking. Goons one through six were not very happy about that. There was a lot of moanful grunting about it.” “There were six of them?” Emma breathes, not nearly as confident as she’d like to be. She rocks backwards on her heels when Killian slides off the counter, ignoring whatever Ruby is doing with all of her limbs as she steps into her space. 

There haven’t been very many moments in Emma’s life that stick. She’s made sure of it, run from the thoughts and the feelings and the relationships for years. This moment, however, seems determined to linger and fester and that second word is absolutely wrong. 

It doesn’t fester. It grows – the buzzing returning until it sounds like someone’s turned the metaphorical volume up as high as it will go on Emma’s life and soul and, possibly, the magic she’s done her best not to acknowledge for the last twenty years. 

None of that, however, holds a candle to whatever look settles on Killian’s face. It’s not quite understanding – there’s still that pesky rule hanging over their heads and she’ll tell him the truth at some point, eventually, she will – but for right now, this moment, she wants to memorize every shift of his face, the twitch of his lips and the turn of his eyebrows, hair falling almost artfully across his forehead when he tilts his head slightly. 

He doesn’t look scared of her. And, really, that’s what makes all the difference because Emma’s been a little scared of what she can do and terrified of what everyone else will do if they find out about her, but Killian just takes another step towards her and smiles as if everything is normal or could be normal and—

“I’m fine, love,” he promises. “I’m very good at surviving.” Ruby scoffs. The moment ends – with Killian’s hand hovering just a breath away from Emma’s side. “Right, right,” Ruby mumbles. “Sure you are. That’s all very well and good and everything, but you’ve thrown a very large wrench into a case that already makes a negative amount of sense. Plus, you know...you’re supposed to be dead.” “I think we’ve covered that several times, Rubes” Emma mutters. 

“And I don’t think Jones died in Storybrooke.” Emma is very glad they’re not open until ten. Ruby’s proclamation rings out in the empty restaurant, bouncing off walls and tables and half-filled napkin containers. It hangs there, taunting and teasing and it can’t possibly be true. 

It can’t possibly be...not true. 

“I think you died on that boat, Jones,” Ruby adds, rolling her eyes when Killian mutters the technical term is ship under his breath. “And I really don’t care about that. But I think the goons killed you then and there and moved you to Storybrooke because you were some kind of very dreamy recluse who, if we’re keeping up appearances, should be dead in your hometown.” “But then why is Cora the one with the reward money?” Emma counters. “She’s the one who set this whole thing up.” “Unless she doesn’t really know who she was working for. Or she didn’t expect Jones to show up dead. Or she’s a little nervous about her own safety because Jones did show up dead. There’s plenty of reasons. All of which I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to answer when we go pay her a visit.” Emma does her best to form actual words. She does. It does not end well. And Ruby snickers at her. “Five figures, Em,” she says, pausing between each word to really drive her point home. “And whatever the uncles have offered now.” Killian jerks his arm back to his side. “They did what?” “Oh yeah, it’s not as much as Madam Mayor, but it’s a good amount and I think they’ve got some suspicions about you and your little jaunt to the...what water is Tahiti in? That doesn't matter. What does matter is that there’s more money being floated around and that means that more eyes are going to be on this and it’s in our best interest to figure it out.” “Don't you think that’s dangerous?” Emma asks, fighting the itch to start mixing something. 

“Oh, I think it’s incredibly dangerous. Except we’ve got a living, breathing dead person in this kitchen who’s involved in some kind of shady something and those same shady somethings will probably be very interested in him being alive. So solving Killian Jones’ murder seems to be our only option at this point.” Killian smiles at Emma – as if he’s won a competition they absolutely were not staging. She groans. “This is not a victory for you,” she hisses. “This is...how do you expect to just go outside? Graham knew who you were.” “He suspected,” Killian corrects. “And I’ll wear a hat. And sunglasses.” “Your ears look ridiculous in a hat.” “I hate to be that person, but I don’t think we should be all that worried about the fashion choices of the dead here,” Ruby says. 

“And you’re very worried about your own fashion choices.” “Ok, that’s rude. I am worried about you. Incredibly so, in fact. Because we’ve got a good thing going here and I...well, I am worried about you. That’s the headline.” It’s not a particularly impassioned speech, but it may be the most emotional Ruby’s gotten since Emma ran into her perp in an alley. Her heart strings are, effectively, tugged. And the guilt in the pit of her stomach churns. 

That’s less pleasant. “Fine,” Emma snaps, like she had any chance of convincing either one of them otherwise. “Fine. Let’s all solve a goddamn murder then. It’s not like I had pie to bake.” “Should be award-winning pie,” Killian adds. They’re definitely flirting. “And I’m serious about 30-30-40. Except from my uncles. That’s...there’s got to be a line, you know?” Ruby stops pouring the coffee Emma hadn’t realized she’d started pouring. “What exactly does that mean? Exactly?” “You said that twice.” “I’m going to get Emma to touch you.” “God, Rubes, that’s dark,” Emma grumbles. She’s run out of coffee. 

“I think I should get the forty percent of the reward because I died,” Killian says, easy as well, pie. “And we’re not taking money from my uncles. Nemo’s still sick. There’s gotta be some kind of morality clause in your familial PI code, right?” Ruby considers that for a moment before bursting out into a laugh that is so loud Emma glances at the walls to make sure the paint hasn’t been chipped. She’s still doubled over nearly thirty seconds later, body shaking and tears in her eyes and it’s a little concerning, but also kind of nice because it sounds real and Killian is still standing far too close to Emma. 

Like he can’t bring himself to move. 

“Yeah, yeah, that does seem fair actually,” Ruby nods, laughter still clinging to her words. “It wasn’t in the original instruction manual, but I doubt Granny was really prepared for people coming back from the dead.” “Magic’s got a way of sneaking up on you like that.” “I guess it does. And I guess we’re going back to Storybrooke, huh?” Killian hums, a barely visible shift of his weight that’s really a dismissal without the words. Ruby almost looks impressed. “I’ll, uh...I’ll give you guys a second.”

Emma needs to take the bell off her door. 

It’s far too loud, particularly when she can’t hear Killian breathing next to her. He turns on the spot, quick enough that Emma feels like she has to blink to make sure it’s really happening. It is. He’s still there. 

Looking at her. 

“Are you alright?” she asks, desperate to say something before he can. She’s a great, big, giant coward really. 

Killian’s mouth quirks up again. “Still as fine as advertised. And you stole my question, actually.” “There’s not anything to be worried about.” “With you or the situation in general?” “Me. Always.” “That’s a decidedly depressing mindset, Swan. I’d very much like to worry about you, at least for the time being. And I know there’s something you aren’t telling me.” Emma startles at the certainty there, the distinct lack of blinking or confusion. He’s positive. And he’s right. She makes another absurd noise. “I don’t know anything about you,” she points out. “It’s...we’re in the middle of something here and I just, well—”

“Why is it a minute?” 

“Why is what a minute?” “This whole magical side of you,” Killian says. “A minute seems incredibly arbitrary. It’s not a lot of time to do anything productive.” “You’d be surprised.”

He chuckles, tongue doing something incredibly unfair again. “You know I haven’t often been jealous of other people, but it seems to be a trend for me this morning.” “That’s ridiculous. Graham is not...we’re not like that.” “You may not be, Swan, but he certainly is. And I can’t say I blame him.” “That felt like flirting,” Emma accuses. 

“It was absolutely flirting. Was that not obvious? That’s frustrating. I am, admittedly, out of practice though, so...” “That’s surprising actually.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Emma nods, taking a step back to try and maintain her sanity. It seems to be slipping through her fingers the longer they stay in that kitchen. “I’m kind of out of practice with the flirting thing too,” she admits. “But, yes, it was meant to be. And, again, there’s no reason to be jealous. I’m talking to dead people.” “And then dead’ing them again.” “Usually.” “Alright, so we’ll work on the flirting then,” Killian promises, and Emma resents whatever her pulse does at that. He certainly hears it. “But why the minute? Did you decide that?” “A minute is a very long time. Plus, the longer someone is alive who isn’t really supposed to be alive, the more likely something is going to go wrong and people get very preachy when they realize life and death is in the balance.”

“I’m still here though. You’ve avoided kissing me on multiple occasions.” “That’s what you're worried about?” “Not in the way you’re thinking. Well, partially in the way you’re thinking, but mostly in the way that you said you’ve never done this before, right?” Emma nods. “And you don’t have some boyfriend aside from the love-struck waiter.” A less enthusiastic nod. Killian’s smile widens. “So,” he continues, leaning around her to grab something she can’t possibly be bothered looking at. “My main question before we dive into the seedy underbelly of the world is...why me?” “I told you that already,” Emma whispers, and she is not emotionally prepared to deal with this many emotions this early in the morning. Or ever. She can’t believe she still has so many emotions about Killian Jones. She desperately wants to brush his hair away from his eyebrows. 

“No, you did a rather horrible job of avoiding the question. So, I’ll ask you one more time, love, why didn’t you let me go?” Emma opens her mouth – certain I couldn’t will come spilling out of her, again and on loop, but she meets his gaze and it’s all too much and not enough. He’d know if she was lying anyway. 

“I just thought it made more sense,” she says. “To have you there. I...I thought my life might be...better if you were in it. You know, again.” He’s infuriatingly quiet or a moment, gaze penetrating. That’s not altogether uncomfortable either. Emma doesn’t blink. 

And, that, that, eventually seems like the turning point because it’s in that moment she realizes what exactly Killian is holding. 

Saran wrap.

He moves quickly, leading with his head so as not to touch her with anything else. The saran wrap isn’t perfectly tight between his fingers, a strange balancing act with only five fingers, but Emma’s too stunned to worry about that for too long and then she’s too amazed to be stunned and she’s wanted to kiss him since she saw him. 

Again. 

She moves forward, the taste of plastic on her tongue when she presses her lips against his. Her arms twist behind her, determined not to give into the metaphorical magnets that feel as if they’re yanking on Emma and begging her to card her fingers through Killian’s hair. 

She fists her hands, but she doesn’t pull away. Part of her is stunned, toying with fate and fire and the rules of the world, but the rest of Emma is screaming out in triumph, desperate to press her mouth closer to Killian’s, to breathe him in until he’s found his way back into the middle of everything. 

It feels impossibly easy. 

It always felt like that. 

Emma makes a noise, almost a groan and possibly a sigh and she can feel Killian’s smile through the twisted up saran wrap. Their noses bump.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she mumbles, not moving her head away. His laugh times up with the buzzing in her ears. 

“Consider it a well-executed science experiment.” “What would you have done if it didn’t work?” Killian shrugs. “I was pretty confident it would work.” “That’s not an answer.” “I really, really, really wanted to kiss you.” 

He bunches up the saran wrap before Emma can object, another quick press to her cheek that isn’t really to her cheek and she feels like she’s floating. She’s not sure she’s ever felt like that.

Ruby groans when she walks back into the restaurant. 

“Oh my God,” she sneers. “Is this our new normal? Because if it is, I’m taking my own car. Or that bus. It wasn’t really that bad.” “You made her take the bus, Swan?” Killian asks, tossing the saran wrap in the trash. Emma probably shouldn’t regret that. 

“I was trying to figure out how to get you away from your own coffin.” He beams at her. Ruby throws several napkins across the restaurant. 

“Can we go solve a murder, please? I’m sure Madam Mayor is very busy.” Emma takes a deep breath, glancing at a still-smiling Killian and the slight flush to his cheeks. She’s a little proud she put that there. “Yeah,” she nods. “Let’s go solve a murder.”

[fanficreadingcorner]

Warmth

Author: Rachel

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Words: 4023

Masterlist

A/N: Ok guys this has literally taken me a good few months to write and I’m gonna be honest it might have gotten away from me and honestly I am so proud of it so I hope you guys like it.

Summary: The heater in the bunker is broken and it's the middle of winter. The reader can’t keep warm despite her best attempts. Time to call in reinforcements.

           ‘It’s fucking freezing’ were the only words currently invading your mind. Snuggling deeper into your blankets you readjust the blankets tighter around your shivering body. Doing a once over you were looking for any holes in your fortress that the cold air might be able to take advantage of and slip her cruel hands in, fingers wrapping around you, grasping in an unyielding hold. And yet no matter the 5 blankets you have on top of you, the countless mugs of coffee, tea, and hot chocolate that you’ve taken, nothing seems to warm you up, you’re beginning to wonder if you were even warm blooded at this point.

           “I’m a fake human” you mumble to yourself as another shivers moves its way through your body shaking you like a wind does a tree and it’s leaves during a particularly nasty storm. “Can’t even keep myself warm” the words being swallowed up by the fuzzy blanket that’s pulled up all the way up to your nose at this point. The bunker heater had chosen to break at the worst possible time, right when winter had her hand firmly placed over the northern hemisphere in what, as the news would so dramatically put it, was deemed the coldest winter in the last 10 years. Although was it really dramatic if it was the truth? The bunker wasn’t made for the cold, if anything it was made to make sure that in the summer it was comfortable to be in. The concrete keeping the temperatures down, especially considering it was underground and as a way to make sure that the humidity was mild enough.

           ‘Who the fuck designs something to only cater to one type of weather in the middle of the united states It’s not like we’re close to the equator where the temperature varies one to two degrees. OK maybe that was exaggerating it but to be fair you were pretty sure that you would be needing to amputate at least a toe after this harrowing ordeal you were going through, suffering through the cold like someone that was climbing Mount Everest. It was decided, when you died, if you ever saw any one who was responsible for the design of this place you would never leave them alone. Now that you thought about it, how did they keep warm before heaters were invented? Did they all sleep in the same room to share body heat? Maybe that’s why the war room was so big. You let out a very undignified snort at the thought of 20 men piled together just to share body heat.

           Readjusting yourself you came to the conclusion that you could not continue like this, how were you supposed to survive the following days to come until the boys came back from their hunt? You had already called them when the heater had broken about a day ago, and Dean had so kindly recommended, to take all the damn blankets in the house and tough it out until they were able to get back to fix it, well that wasn’t working out so well and they wouldn’t be coming home for another day or two.

           “Ugh” you groaned out the noise coming from deep inside your chest. “I can’t live like this, it’s too much” you groaned as you flopped down on your side, the amount of blankets cushioning your fall, unfortunately for you, you miscalculated, thus causing your blankets to ride up just over your ankles exposing you to the cruel mistress of death that is the cold.

           “GOD DAMMIT” You yelled while kicking the blankets up in frustration, tears welling up in your eyes, all you wanted was to be warm, was it too much to ask! After a few moments of fighting with the blankets you finally gave up lying face up, chest heaving from the exertion of kicking the blankets around with so much force to try to get your frustration out, tears pricking at the edges of your vision, worst of all you were still freezing and had kicked off the blankets in your battle to the death which they had apparently won considering most were on the ground and the one or two that did survive were too entangled in your legs to be of any use now that you were completely at the mercy of winters cold grasp. Groaning your reaching your hands up to cover your face while slowly dragging them down.

           “Is this how Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes felt when they were frozen during all that time cause damn now wonder they’re messed up” you spoke to yourself, hand muffling your words, making them almost unintelligibly. Once your hands finally made the long trek down your face, they then quickly took up residence on your side while you calmed down, talking deep breaths to calm yourself down. Biting your lip your quickly ran though several options, buy a heater? nah that would mean having to get dressed, leave the bunker and use money, plus you were sure it was colder outside than it was in here. Get more blankets, at the rate you were going it was possible the number of blankets needed to warm you up would crush you before doing any good. Wait! There was one option, but who knew if he would actually come and help you?

You could call Lucifer, but why bother him the poor archangel probably had enough on his plate as of recently thanks to having taken over heaven after Chuck and Michael went M.I.A, but it wouldn’t hurt to call right, I mean he was your boyfriend after all not to mention he had the most gorgeous pair of wings on his back, the only pair you had ever seen really but still, the way he held them up with pride, and rightly so they were huge, the black iridescence of his wings made them roll with the color of the rainbows when they shifted and yet they still kept the midnight black color that you had come to identify with Lucifer’s wings. You had always wanted to ask permission to touch them and yet had refrained from doing so thinking that they must only be a personal thing and you were nothing more than a friend.

           Well that was until about a year ago when you had started dating then and everything had changed, 3 years after the archangel had come back and proven that he had in fact changed that you started getting acquainted with him and feelings for him had blossomed faster than you thought possible, like a tulip coming up from the ground and growing quickly in late winter, yet much like the tulip feared for a later frost to come through thus quickly killing any progress it had made so quickly. You had feared that Lucifer would deny you should you choose to tell him of your feelings this early on in the friendship, you chose rather to bury your feelings content on having him as a friend for now, content to enjoy his company which did include it’s fair share of getting in trouble, some might say too much but you thought it was just enough, and it came with the added bonus of staring at his wings whenever he had his back turned. Why you always saw then, you never asked maybe he just trusted you enough to show them around you, but you would rather not ask least he rid you of such a beautiful sight.

           Up until today you hadn’t even thought of asking him to let you touch his wings, it just never seemed like the right time, it was almost like he purposefully made sure they avoided you, maybe it was just so that they didn’t hit you or make you feel uncomfortable but you had always wondered what it would be like to touch then, run your hands through his feathers, curl up with him while he had his wings wrapped around you. The violent shiver that shook your body quickly snapped you of your daydream, well looks like it’s now or never. Closing your eyes, you directed a quick prayer up to your boyfriend.

           ‘Hey Lucifer, so I know you might be busy, but I just had a favor to ask of you if, you know, you’re not too busy and might have some time to come visit me.” Almost immediately you were greeted with the sound of wings and a slight breeze that disturbed the frigid air around you causing more goosebumps, if that was even possible at this point, to prickle up on your skin while another shiver rolled through your body. You were quick to curl into yourself while you kept shaking and glanced over to the end of your bed where stood Lucifer in all his glory.

           “Well shit y/n, I’m not affected by the temperature but even I can tell the difference and darling it’s way too cold in here for you to be uncovered like this, what are you doing?” Lucifer’s voice was a mix of concern as well as amusement at seeing you obviously very uncomfortable.

           “You know what Lucifer if you’re not gonna be helpful then you can go fuck yourself” you muttered not only uncomfortable but also a little embarrassed right now at being found like this by Lucifer. You immediately curled into yourself to try to get warm since it looked like your boyfriend was not going to be as much help as you thought he was going to be. You let out a frustrated huff before another shiver moved through your already shaking body making you let out a small whimper of discomfort. Suddenly you felt the bed dip behind you and arms that you knew very well wrap around you instantly enveloping you in warmth that had your stiff muscles uncleaning almost instantly making you sigh out in relief. Lucifer took the opportunity to curl up around you and bury his face in your neck making you giggle slightly.

           “I’m sorry for making fun of you” he apologized while nuzzling your neck making you hum contently the amount of love pouring out of the angel towards you always made you melt in his arms. You honestly wouldn’t mind if you died right here and right now warm, loved and in the arms of which you loved. Alas winter was not to be ignored as a draft moved through the room, the slight coldness reminded you why you had even invited Lucifer over in the first place. Biting your lip you thought to yourself, maybe you could just ask that he cover both of you in blankets and call it good, that way you could be warm and then you wouldn’t risk destroying everything that you had built with him, but if it wasn’t now then when? Welp here goes nothing.

           “Hey Lucifer” you mumbled out, oh gosh you barely spoke up, maybe it was a sign from Chuck and maybe he hadn’t heard you, oh who were you kidding, he was an archangel, how could he not have heard you, it would take a miracle.

           “yeah sunshine?” he asked, damn well he had heard you, well now or never, how come you were so nervous all of a sudden? You had been so sure of yourself just a few minutes but as soon as those wings had come into your sight it had been like something had slapped you across the face.

           “I was wondering…” You trailed off, while bringing your cold feet up to rub against his legs in hopes you warming them as well. Suddenly it seemed like the wall on the farthest side of the room was the most interesting thing in the world, as you stared harshly at it while you gnawed on your lower lip with your teeth. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, blankets and his body heat were good enough, yeah that would be more than enough. You were suddenly pulled from your thoughts as delicate kisses were placed on your neck making you giggle and try to push Lucifer’s face away from you. “stop that tickles” you giggled again as he kept attacking your neck.

           “Only if you tell me what you were going to say” he mumbles in between his constant attack on your neck causing you to giggle louder.

           “Ok, ok! I’ll tell you but I can’t if your distracting me like this” You managed to get out while turning around to look at him. He brought his arm up to rest his head on it while looking at you expectantly. You took the time to just take him in for a little bit, he was gorgeous, how was it that this man was all yours.

           “Y/N” he mumbled effectively snapping you out of your love induced trance. Making your face heat up in embarrassment at being caught staring so openly at him, though who could really blame you. “If it makes you feel better” he started while slowly leaning closer into your face making your breath catch in your throat as his ice blue eyes looked into your eyes. “You hypnotize me too” he whispered right against your lips before placing a delicate kiss on your lips and withdrawing leaving your lips tingling, wanting for more. God this man was going to be the death of you. You quickly snuggled into his chest head resting right over where his heart was situated. While fisting a hand into his shirt, the cold all but forgotten in the love induced haze that Lucifer and brought onto you. You felt his arm tighten around you anchoring you more fully into the moment while his head rested on top of your but not before pressing a quick kiss to your head. If you could die like this, you most certainly would. Taking a deep breath you prepared yourself for what was about to come out of your mouth, not knowing what this was going to do to your relationship.

           “I know this is probably not the best time to ask and I know I’ve had more than enough times to ask this and, you know you really don’t have to feel obligated to say yes or anything I respect your boundaries and such because like what kind of relationship would this be if we didn’t respect each other, not a very good one I think” Your ramblings were cut off by a quick tight hug from Lucifer who then pushed up away a little bit to look at your face.

           “Darling, what has got you so riled up?” he asked, concern just barely lacing his voice, much like the cold barely gracing your toes, close to trying to take ahold of thing and yet still manageable. Taking a deep breath, you quickly spilled it out.

           “I want to touch your wings” you mumbled, while quickly lowering your head to trace patterns on his chest, just loud enough for you to hear but you were certain that Lucifer had heard you with his archangel hearing and such. Almost as soon as the words had left your mouth you felt Lucifer stiffen next and around you, almost as if someone had taken a dinner fork and stabbed him with it. Oh no, you knew this was a bad idea.

           You kept quiet letting Lucifer process your words are you continued to trace mindless patterns on his chest, hoping and praying that the worst he would say was no. You could feel him slowly relax around you but still you held your breath waiting for the answer that as sure to escape his lips any moment now, however what you were not expecting was another question.

           “Can you see my wings?” he asked softly, almost like a reverent whisper, at that you raised your head again to take a good look into his face. When looking over his face you saw two things, love and hope. While his question confused you a bit you decided that now would be just a good a time to come clean as any other. So, you nodded softly gauging his reaction hoping it wouldn’t mean the end of your relationship as you knew it. However when he rested his forehead against yours and kept eye contact with you, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief that at the very least he had not simply started with a no and left you there to suffer in the cold. He opened his mouth to speak again while you held your breath waiting for a question or an answer at this point you didn’t even know you. “How long?” were the only two words that left his mouth this time causing you to gulp loudly, oh well here goes nothing.

           “Since the first time I saw you” was your response, which elicited a deep warmth to overtake your face. Chuck why was he even asking this is so embarrassing. You hoped that he would answer quickly but as it seemed as he was taking his time making you more nervous. Burying your face in his chest you tried to hide your shame, you should have known that this wasn’t a good idea. You buried your face deeper into his chest and staying quiet letting him process the information while trying to warm yourself, hiding your embarrassment from Lucifer for obviously asking something very personal, ugh could this day get any worse?!

           Another shiver wracked your body causing Lucifer to tighten his hold on while he adjusted himself, what was he doing? You tried to move her face when you suddenly felt Lucifer bury his face in the juncture between your neck and shoulder and whispered softly against your skin, “wait”. So, you stop trying and just left your face in his chest and left him continue what adjusting himself until he was sitting and you were curled up on his lap. When suddenly you felt him bring his hand to your chin and tug slightly on it making you look up at him before he connected his lips to yours softly. In that simple act you swore you felt him try to convey all the love and emotion he could felt for you before pulling away slowly and resting him forehead against yours while his eyes locked onto yours, the intimacy of the situation could not be denied but the love that was felt from both of you and him had made your heart melt even more than before, if that was even possible, and your body relax even more from the constant state of tension it had been under due to the cold. When suddenly Lucifer spoke softly breaking the comfortable silence that have enveloped you both.

           “Father” he paused a bit, seeming to think on how exactly he wanted to phrase his next words. Being so close to him, forehead to forehead you could see the emotions flitting through his eyes. He swallowed loudly brought his hands up to caress your face, softly brushing his thumbs over your cheeks as he continued talking. “Father once said that when he created us, he created a perfect companion to us. Someone that would complement us wholly. He said that they were waiting for us somewhere, someplace, sometime, but that he never would tell us specifically where or when he just said that when the time came we would find them and they could literally be anything to us. Friend, child, mother, lover, anything.” He took a breath to watch you take the information in and process it making sure you were understanding before he continued. “We were worried that we would never be able to identify who this companion was due to the fact that of so many souls how were we to identify the person meant for us, so father took mercy on us and said I will allow you one way to be able to identify them and they will be able to identify you” at that Lucifer went quiet. All that was heard was your quiet breathing and your blood thumping through your ears. What was Lucifer getting at?

           Suddenly a new sound filled your ears, rustling, you quickly realized, the rustling of feathers. Then he was everywhere you realized surrounding you and him in your own little cocoon of warmth, your breath hitched while tears of joy filled your eyes, you could feel his brushing against you, the pieces were starting to click, was he saying what you thought you he as saying? Were you that to him? You tried to pull away to look at his wings but before you could he tightened his hold on your face making sure that your eyes were still focused on him and then swallowing loudly again he kept talking.

           “He told us” his voice breaking with emotion while you tried your best not to cry. “He told us that they would be able to see out wings without need for help” taking a breath you could no longer hold your tears in, the slowly starting to make their way down your face, as your suspicions were confirmed he was your, perfectly yours. Lucifer took the opportunity to wipe them away with his thumbs. “I never thought that someone so perfect would be made for me” he whispered while looking at you like you had created the universe itself. “I hope those are happy tears” he said after a pause. Immediately you started nodding as much as you possibly could while your face was trapped in his hands.

           “So happy” you said shakily from all the emotions running through you. Then slowly Lucifer released your face as if giving you permission to look now that he had explained everything. You slowly pulled away and slowly tuned to look around you. Bringing a hand up to your mouth you stifled a sob at what you saw. Obsidian Black wings that were still touched by the iridescence that simultaneously gave them every color of the rainbow while also drowning in black. You reached out to touch them but suddenly you stopped not wanting to overstep your boundaries. It seemed that Lucifer felt your uneasiness because he took his hand and pushed yours forward into his feathers. As soon as your hand touched his feathers you let out an elated giggle. You never thought you would be here, that he would let you touch his feathers let alone basically tell you that he was your soulmate.

           “They’re so soft” you whispered turning to look at him, hand deeply buried in them. He smiled at you before bringing his wings closer around you two so that you were not only warmer but now cuddled up against his chest. He placed a lingering kiss on your forehead before he rested his cheek against yours while your hand kept running through the long feathers.

           “I sure hope they are soft” he started, “I take very good care of them” he stated while he started humming softly causing his chest to rumble where your head was placed. You shifted a little bit so that you were curled up on his lap sideways, head on his chest, one hand intertwined with the one that was wrapped around you while the other one was still in his feathers, basking in happy glow that you two had created. Soon enough, the warmth that came from Lucifer and being wrapped in his wings had you falling asleep, trying to stay awake Lucifer chuckled, placing a kiss on your head again he spoke into your hair “Sleep darling, the cold will not bother you tonight” you hummed your body relaxing into him.

           “ ‘m glad the heater broke” you mumbled half asleep. Your breathing quickly evened out after that while your hand went slack in his wing. Lucifer took your hand and put it on your lap and tightened his hold on you a little more before responding to your question while looking down at your sleeping form with all the love in the world. “Me too”