#it did NOT have ANY right to be so well-written and funny yet also disgustingly offensive and depressing and tragic

[meanya]

[blurrypetals]

May the Best Man Win by Z.R. Ellor - blurrypetals review

originally posted apr. 30, 2021 - ★★☆☆☆

An ARC was provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This is by far my biggest disappointment of 2021 so far. This book had so much promise to be an adorable romantic comedy with one of the cutest premises ever, but due largely to the fact that it is being disgustingly mismarketed as a cutesy rom com when it is, in fact, not funny and it is not a romance, it falls directly on its face when there is nothing but angst and hollow characters to hold it up. To say that this book was a slog would be a bit of an understatement. I started this book on March 15th and it took me until today, April 30th, to drag myself across the finish line. It might have honestly taken me longer if my copy from NetGalley weren't expiring in just a few hours. As I mentioned before, I did expect this book to have a completely different tone from what it ended up having, but it also didn't focus on Homecoming the same way I expected it to. I really expected this to be the two boys pranking back and forth throughout Homecoming week and any fun and trouble that might occur in between, but the conflict of this book barely involves the race for Homecoming King. Instead, it's about a bully at the school, the school's Code of Conduct, and Lukas's struggles to succeed despite his extra challenges due to the fact that he's autistic. This shift in focus wouldn't be so bad if it actually meant something at the end of the book, but so much is abandoned, shoved aside, or just plain ignored by the end that it really left me wanting for something. This book really is just angst on wheels. While I do think this is an honest portrayal of a trans character in Jeremy, it also feels like there is nowhere near enough depth to him. He oftentimes reads as a bit of a parody of himself, though, especially in the parts that deal with the Code of Conduct and Philip, the school bully. All nuance is thrown straight out the window when it comes to Jeremy's conflicts in the story and it's extremely difficult to relate to him as a character when he feels like he's built purely of nothing but anger and being trans. And I say this knowing that a lot of trans folks are angry, and they have every right to be. I'm angry for a lot of trans folks who don't get the rights they deserve. So when their representation is boiled down to nothing but a hate filled boy whose friends all hate him, it sort of ends up feeling like an empty portrayal. If I didn't already know the author was trans, I truly might have thought this was written by someone who was cis. Someone well-meaning, perhaps, but misguided. Jeremy's personality is that he's angry and trans. Show me why Lukas loves him, why his friends care about him, because I don't get it. Ellor failed to write a compelling, believable trans character, which is a real damn shame, probably the biggest failing of this book, in my opinion. Lukas's character is dealt with the same lack of care. Lukas is autistic and his family is grieving after the death of his older brother. I think Lukas's autism is handled the way I wish Jeremy's trans-ness had been handled: as a trait of his but not a defining character trait. It affects Lukas's schooling and even causes him to cheat, but his autism doesn't rule his storyline the same way Jeremy being trans rules his. I know these two things are not exactly comparable, but again, it just handles this completely normal thing, autism, and treats it like this completely normal thing. Why couldn't Jeremy being trans be like this? I digress. The part of Lukas's story that annoyed me most was his issues with his family. We get maybe two or three full, real scenes including Lukas's parents, but in each one, we are never really shown the issues Lukas is having with them, other than perhaps the fact that they are distant. There is a really strange scene that comes out of nowhere in the latter half of the book involving Lukas's mother that gets absolutely no resolution by the end, it just happens, even appears to be a big, life-changing event for Lukas, but Ellor's major pacing issues leave no room for any conflicts to actually breathe, change, or resolve. And, since I've mentioned it, let's discuss Ellor's issues with pacing! Have any of you ever gotten into a car with a 15-year-old who's preparing for their permit test? It starts a little rough; there's a lot of jolting, stopping and starting as they get used to the brakes and, once they get going, they might start to get the hang of it, but eventually they have to use those brakes again, so it's just a lot of stopping and starting, a lack of surety, and often no true sense of direction. This whole analogy is to say: Z.R. Ellor's pacing feels exactly like a 15-year-old kid learning to drive. Scenes end suddenly and move along to the next bit, often in ways that makes it difficult for the reader to get their bearings or follow the extremely tenuous threads that string each scene together. Any time it seems like Ellor gains a little momentum, he shoots himself in the foot, hitting the brakes immediately before pivoting elsewhere. Lukas and Jeremy both seem to drift through scenes, telling us the things they're thinking without those thoughts having much bearing on the scenes at hand most of the time. Also, this book is written from the first person POV in the present tense, which only made it feel like I was reading a hollow What I Did Over the Summer essay a high schooler was forced to write. It's so frustrating that this story is all about these two boys' hardships but the pacing and all-around average to poor writing quality make it impossible to hold onto anything. It feels every bit the debut that it is. And, speaking of holding onto things, this book gave me absolutely no reason to root for Lukas and Jeremy to be together. None of the flashbacks or stories from before their breakup led me to believe the two of them really ever loved each other, which hurts the story greatly, since much of the drama comes from their lingering feelings for one another. They both seemed to admire one another, but they had next to zero chemistry, so when they're still pining over each other, it feels like actors reading a script, not two boys who have complicated yet sincere feelings for each other. I honestly think I could go on, but I really have already wasted enough time with this one. It's boring, its marketing is misleading, and you can tell from just about every aspect of this book that it is a debut with shockingly little polish and utterly empty characters, apart from Sol, the best part of the book. It's rushed, yet it somehow also feels agonizingly slow. I wanted this premise to work, I was so prepared to be swept away by this book. I legitimately pumped my fists in the air when I got approved for this one, so I really had high hopes for it to work. But you know what they say about high expectations: the higher they are, the longer and harder the fall.

[sam-not-samantha]

The Blackwoods & the Rheiders

“A train wreck dynasty of cash stacks and funny farms.”

#sltask02

 [Photos embedded, but not all characters have a faceclaim.]

The Blackwoods (Immediate)

Andrew Blackwood | Father | June 21, 1969-April 30, 2017         “Paycheck giver. Businessman. Quiet and kind, yet so apathetic.” Eliza Blackwood (née Rheider) | Mother | October 28, 1971-April 30, 2017         “Whiny bitch. Passive-aggressive. Judgmental. Tasteless. Fucking DEAD.” Samantha “Sam” Blackwood | Self | February 5, 1995         “Best fucking person you’ll ever meet.”

The Extended (And not-so-distant)

Jodi Rheider | Maternal aunt | July 1, 1975         “Anti-vaxer. Vegan. Cunt. Used to get cocktails with Kris Jenner.” Jenna Rheider | Maternal cousin | April 14, 1994         “Brainless twit. And a narc; ratted me out for doing coke only for her mom to do the rest.” Connor Rheider | Maternal cousin | November 2, 1999         “Quirky. Genius. Loves drones. Probably in charge of WikiLeaks.”

Luke Rheider | Maternal uncle | May 4, 1966         “Pretentious. Thinks old money is anything over a year. Football fan. Moron.” Charli Diamond | Maternal aunt-in-law | October 31, 1982         “Second wife. Thinks Luke’s gonna die soon, but she deserves gold. Refused the name.” Bastien Rheider | Maternal cousin | January 28, 1988         “One of the two actually cool people in this family. Sarcastic. Sick. Sweet.” Evie Rheider | Maternal first cousin, once removed | September 12, 2008         “Started sweet, is now fully demonic.”

Paul Blackwood | Paternal uncle | October 6, 1965         “Loudly republican. Loudly terrible. Horrible suits. Still calls me ‘Squirt’.” Charlotte Blackwood (née Gilfrey) | Paternal aunt-in-law | May 10, 1967        “If Ann Coulter was slightly younger and somehow slightly worse.” Kim Blackwood | Paternal cousin | August 1, 1987         “Couture PotteryBarn expert. Insufferable. Screechy. Trend-chaser.” George White | Cousin-in-law-to-be | November 7, 1980         “The manifestation of Kim’s daddy issues. Wedding date is permanently TBD.” Lisa Blackwood | Paternal cousin | April 9, 1989         “Mini-Eliza. Clothing terrorist. Should’ve been aborted.” Salvatore Stracci | Cousin-in-law-to-be | October 22, 1976        “Tall, Italian and scary. Also in a state of perpetual engagement and dissatisfaction.” Alessandro Blackwood | Paternal first cousin, once removed | May 31, 2010         “Had to hold him at a party once. He spat on me.”

Michael Blackwood | Patnernal uncle | May 1, 1967         “I legitimately don’t know if he and Paul are different people.” Natalie Blackwood (née Gainsbourg) | Paternal aunt-in-law | July 1, 1968        “Quiet, but clearly judgmental. Alopecia. Clings to Michael desperately.” Heather Blackwood | Paternal cousin | March 14, 1990         “The only sane woman. Editor at Harper’s Bazaar with Natalie. Goddess. Soul sister.”

Matthew Blackwood | Paternal uncle | Stillborn August 8, 1970

-

Dances– The Blackwoods | A Personal Essay (Written pre-parental death).

It was a dance.

It always was, no matter what. No, there was never any music. No stage. No choreography. But conversations with my mother were always an intricate samba on a tightrope.

It could begin at any moment, about anything. Simple small talk about where I went for brunch yesterday morning could turn into a bitchfest about my weight– as if being 110 was something to be ashamed of. The mere presence of an unopened, monthly bank statement could turn into a lecture about financial responsibility– as if she wasn’t surrounded by new, shiny things and maxed out AMEX cards. And, far more recently, a quick, innocent glance at the alcohol cabinet would have me sat down with some professional life coach while she watched, a vodkatini in hand.

Eliza Blackwood (born Eliza Rheider in 1971) was a bitch. An absolute bitch. A wretched, spoiled, high-strung, narcissistic, classist, borderline-anorexic, Valium-addicted, Shalimar-drenched, Kris Jenner-wannabe bitch. She was lucky she came from money, because if she wasn’t, I don’t think she’d be alive right now. I mean, I’m lucky, too, but I’m grateful for what I have.

Her parents were corporate assholes– her dad worked for Goldman Sachs, and his wife was a vapid, shrill, useless little brat not unlike her daughter. And, of course, that unloveable little bitch went and married someone who could satisfy her financial needs and not embarrass the family name– Andrew Blackwood, a New York politician from a family of Wall Street types (Some of whom also worked at Goldman Sachs, which is how the two met). On paper, they were a match made in heaven. A wealthy politician and his obnoxious jetsetter wife.

But, fortunately for me, even though I hadn’t been born quite yet, Andrew was a good, caring man. While Eliza was (and still is) ruthless, selfish and absolutely disgustingly horrible, Andrew had a heart. He cared about people. And things. Which was why he went into politics. He wanted to make a change. While his family was a bunch of wealthy Republicans, he was entirely Democratic, a fact that nearly alienated from them entirely (if only it had actually managed to keep his family out of my life) which is why I’m still in awe that he wound up with a pathetic Paris Hilton knockoff. A politician with a heart of gold wound up with a blue blood twat who measures her love in karats.

But back to her dances.

I’m not entirely sure where they come from. I mean, no matter how much you analyze someone and their family and upbringing and everything, you can’t pin point their personality traits and their behaviors. That said, I think I have a fair amount of clues as to where Eliza’s horrid personality came from.

While her relationship with her mother is mostly concealed to me, their lifestyle was no secret. Eliza always went on about how well she lived as a kid, how luxurious her house was, how high the thread count in the sheets of her crib was, and how she washed her face with caviar or something. But how she got along with her mother was never fully described. I’ve seen hints here and there– a glare across a table at a gala or whispers on the phone. But I don’t know too much. As far as I know, Eliza’s mother– Mrs. Karen Rheider– didn’t even bother to raise any of her three children. I wouldn’t have been surprised had they all been raised by a nanny while Karen went went on living as a trophy wife. But I assume that the two of them, when they did interact, got along the same way Eliza and I do– and that would make it safe to assume Eliza picked up her bitchy words, malicious intentions and passive-aggressive, condescending demeanor from her mother. The family bitchiness is hereditary.

Passive-aggressiveness is definitely a running trait in my family. I see it to an extent on my dad’s side– his brothers and him bicker endlessly, and they seem to show some slight disapproval for his opposing political stance, as if world views are trivial dinner conversation. But it pales in comparison to the Rheider family’s guilt. Aside from me, and my mother, I see it in the rest of the family.

My aunt Jodi, mother of two, is another disgusting person. Like Jenny McCarthy, she refused to vaccinate her kids because she believed it would make them autistic. Her son, Connor, has caught the flu every single year since he was six. The three (including her daughter Jenna) currently reside together at a nudist resort, where the kids were homeschooled… because they lack their immunizations. But that’s kind of besides the point– any time Jodi decides to dress up and sneak out into the world of normalcy, she misses no opportunity to make slick comments that everyone else in the family is living incorrectly. Thankfully, everyone else has mastered the art of clapback.

Eliza’s brother, Luke, and his wife, Charli (a full 16 years younger than him) are an obnoxiously pretentious couple who are all too proud of their FormDecor relationship and all too ashamed of everyone else’s. Luke has a son, Bastien, who he had with his first wife, that’s only 6 years younger than Charli. However, Bastien’s one of the few people on my mother’s side of the family that I actually enjoy. We share similar morals, and gratefulness for what we’ve been given, and spend every single family function together ripping the family apart. It’s a shame they never hear us.

Even the family elders have the same disapproving, condescending disdain for everything that my mom displays. But they’re far too silent around me to reveal anything noteworthy. The most words I’ve ever heard from my great grandmother Dorothy Cross (my mother’s mother’s mother), was scolding Jodi for her nudist colony being racially integrated, so it’s safe to say not much good was going to come from that generation. Fortunately, most of them are dead– Dorothy passed in 2011 (though her husband is still living off of a diamond-encrusted life support machine), and Eliza’s father’s parent’s are both long gone. Three out of Andrew’s four parents are deceased, his mother’s mother Clarissa Pullock (or something like that) is still alive, though I’ve never met her and probably never will– our first interaction will probably be at her funeral where I’m forced to pretend to mourn.

While Eliza’s family is dominated by a vile matriarchy, Andrew’s family has been dominated by powerful men with miniature dicks who made the Blackwood name known very much for investment banking until bank holding companies began to reign supreme, after which the family figured they would be better off in electoral politics. Andrew’s grandfather, Adam Blackwood, worked up a networth of slightly over $1 billion, and while his successors haven’t exactly been slacking, I don’t think any of them are ever going to do as well as him (but at the end of the day, if Andrew decided to have a bonfire using $100 bills as kindling, we’d recover before the fire even went out). Adam had two sons– Matthew and Bernard, and both received their jobs at Wall Street after him in a clear sign of nepotism. Bernard married a real estate agent named Elaine or Elle or something like that and had a million kids– most of which were boys. I don’t know much about them, and I don’t really care to. Matthew married some Janet something and had four kids– Paul (1965), Michael (1967), Andrew (1969), and Matthew Jr. (stillborn in 1970).

Unfortunately for this generation of men, who, unsurprisingly, continued the trend of nepotism and began work at the same place as their ancestors (save for Andrew who stayed in school, exploring his interests), none of them were able to produce any boys to continue the line. Paul was the first to reproduce– shooting out Kim and Lisa in 1987 and 1989, and as soon as the Kardashian sisters came around, they tried their hardest to be them but soon settled with just being their very close friends (and it’s safe to say I can’t stand any of them). Michael had Heather in 1990, and somehow, amidst a family of putrid, selfish monsters, she wound up a tasteful and snarky angel of hope. Like Bastien, we spend our family events together, an unholy trio of stylish black sheep.

And then finally, February 5, 1995, I came around. Eliza and Andrew had been married for about three years, and finally had me. Adam was still alive at the time and was praying for a great grandson– only to be disappointed for the fourth time. Almost as a sign of flippancy towards him, they named me Sam (well, Samantha, but I’ve grown accustomed to Sam and refuse to be called by my full first name unless I’m being charged with something). My mother made my middle name Elizabeth– because she hoped that I would follow in her footsteps. She once said naming me after her was “the biggest mistake” she ever made, which I don’t think is entirely unfair because taking after her is the last thing I ever want to do. And I’ve spent the last twenty-one years learning all of this.

People always say that blood is thicker than water, or whatever. That we’re supposed to stick with our families (over friends, or, well, anything). There’s been some mindset that family comes before all, that you honor your last name above anything and everything. I don’t believe that for one second. As if who happened to bang should determine everything about you. I despise almost all of that. And I won’t claim any of the ones that I don’t like for one second. I’ll take a tango any day. Fuck blood. And fuck the Blackwoods.

[abdicatedarchive]

lost track of time || cody and bella

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: cody’s dorm and the art room // spring 2021.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: cody x bella.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒: none.

𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒: cody does not show up for their agreed upon meeting time. 

Bella kept looking at her phone to check the time. The deal was that they'd meet once a week in the art room so Cody could help her with her project. They had this meeting on the same day of the week, same time, and he still wasn't here. She had texted him twice and still no response. Bella didn't want to come off as an annoyance but this project meant everything to her, and she thought they were working pretty well together last time. After an hour of waiting, she decided to go over to Cody's dorm room to check up on him. He must have been sick, that had to be it. As Bella got to the room, she knocked on the door, and waited till he answered. "Hello. Is everything okay? Are you feeling bad?"

He had recognized that they were becoming too chummy the other day. Cody didn't like the idea of someone knowing so many things about him. He turned his phone to do not disturb and turned on his xbox, something to keep him busy. Cody knew he was supposed to feel guilty, but the only thing he felt guilty about was not keeping up the trade system they had. When he heard the knock on the door, he was assuming he was going to get chewed out. That was typically how things went for him with girls. When she was concerned about whether or not he was sick ... he was surprised. "I guess I just lost track of time" said Cody as he put his arm up against the side of the door frame. He made a point to not say sorry. Like I said, they were becoming too chummy. Cody needed to put a stop to that, she was just going to catch feelings.

He lost track of time? That was it?! Bella blinked a couple times in confusion, clearly there was more than just losing track of time. Didn't he know how much this meant to her? Her parents were actually showing interest in her art for once, and it was pretty much just because Cody was involved. "I... I waited for an hour. I texted you too, did you not get them?" She didn't mind giving him reminders that they had their meet ups, but this was only the second week. How could he already forget? They both agreed on the idea of trading favors, and she had kept up hers so far of not bringing up Alexandra. It all just seemed a little inconsiderate, and she was trying to make this work.

"My phone's on do not disturb" said Cody, not really sure what to do. He should have thought about what the consequences would be for not showing up. To a certain extent he hadn't expected her to be confrontational until the second time it happened. "Did you even really need me today? Do I need to be there every time?" he asked causally. There was no way she needed his physical presence every Thursday. It was a huge commitment, and it really cut into his free time.

Bella looked up at Cody in silence for a moment. Normally, she would cave in and say that he didn't have to be there every time. She didn't want to cause too much of an inconvenience. She probably would have even suggested they stop their meetings completely and she would figure everything out because she was scared that she was being such a bother. But her art meant so much to her, it's what drove her. It was all she had in her lonely life, and she couldn't fail this time. She couldn't disappoint her parents yet again. "Uh, yes. Yes I do need you, a-and yes you do need to be there every time." she said awkwardly. "I thought everything went well last week, and this means a lot to me, so ... I would appreciate if you were more considerate." she spoke quickly towards the end, in fear of sounding too aggressive.

He knew he was being an ass, but he wanted to keep her at a bigger distance. Last time he let anyone know anything about him it didn't exactly end well. He liked being alone when it came to the intimate details about his life. He liked being around people for the easy stuff, that was good. It was when people got too close that he had a problem. That's why he liked his friends as much as he did. They all kept an arms length away. Everything was surface level for them. He didn't know if there was anything else to them, and they didn't know everything that was going on for him. "Fine. I'll be there" said Cody, rolling his eyes a little. "Founders Day and your art show will be here before we know it, and then this will all be over after a little dying out period" he added, waiting for the day that this was all done. Sure it was nice to have his parents off his back, but all the added things weren't good.

Bella knew that this was a big commitment, and Cody wasn't really getting anything out of it, but this was the point of their favors. He helped her, and she would help him. No questions asked, at least from her. She didn't mind helping others, she actually enjoyed it. If there was any way to make someone happy, she would do it. But not everyone was like this, and that was something she needed to learn. This was Cody Summers after all, he was never too nice to her back in the day. "Is there a problem with that?" she asked softly, noticing the roll of his eyes. "May I remind you that we are both even with favors right now and I have not broken that yet. Maybe we should have consequences when one doesn't hold up to the deal." she mumbled the last sentence to herself. A written contract seemed more appealing to Bella in this moment. "I am also very aware of that." she added with the pout of her lips. She didn't love this fake relationship either but she wasn't being so obvious about it.

Her being a little pissed off at him was good. It meant that the walls between them were strong and good. He hated how much she had already managed to get him to open up. Cody nodded, "I will be there next time, I promise. If I break it again, we can talk about consequences". He didn't really want negative reinforcement for not doing what was expected of him, so he would be sure to be there next time. He wanted to stay just on the edge of her good side. It would make things the easiest. Not full hatred, but just enough that when this was done it would be fully done. "Then I think we're good here" said the boy shortly, "unless you want or need something?" he said, running his hand through his hair. He didn't even know why he offered.

Bella nodded in agreement with Cody suggestion, "Okay. Then this shall be strike one. No more strikes, only consequences." The idea of consequences may have not been the best for Bella, considering the fact that she babbles just a little too much when she's around Cody. She was surprised she hadn't slipped and mentioned Alexandra at this point, but her fear of disappointing others may have overpowered her rambling abilities. As Cody spoke again, she couldn't help but feel like he wanted her out of his sight. Last week was nice, and for a moment she thought she had him all wrong. She thought that there could be more to him than whatever reputation he had, but maybe people were right and he wasn't a nice person after all. "Well, I would suggest going to the art room so I don't waste this week, but ... I don't want to interrupt whatever you're doing." she said with a little more attitude than intended. "I suppose I'll figure this out on my own."

"An agreement is an agreement. Let me just grab a sweatshirt" said Cody as he quickly put on a jacket and followed her to the art building. He had resolved to sit in silence with her, no questions this week. When they got there, he sat on a stool and started messing around with a camera to keep himself busy. He didn't really know what to say, he felt like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been. He knew he was in the wrong, but it was still unnerving. He snapped a photo of her as she still looked angry. He was surprised how beautiful she looked when she was focused on her work. Not that he would ever admit it to her. That was a boundary that did not need to be crossed.

Bella was pretty shocked to hear Cody say he'd be going to the art room with her. Now she felt a little bad about giving attitude. Her mother always told her she needed to be more authoritative, but that was easier said than done, at least for her. The rest of the family made it look like a cakewalk. As they got to the room, Bella quickly set everything out and put her hair up. She wasn't sure how long they'd be able to be in here since it was almost past her time slot. Working under this kind of stress was not ideal, and she was still pretty upset with Cody. The silver lining had to be that he was, visually, a nice subject to work with. As long as she did him justice, the painting should come out amazing. "Taking a picture of someone without their consent might be illegal in this state, you know. I could get you in a lot of trouble." Even though she still had that grumpy face on, Bella was definitely messing around. "Is that what you like to take pictures of? People?"

He laughed, "haven't you heard? I'm kind of a bad boy" he chuckled. She was funny when she was pissed off. He thought about it for a second, "yeah, people. I just like catching moments. I think I might take a camera to Charlie's wedding" he dropped casually. It had dawned on him earlier today that he would need to take Bella to the wedding. Honestly, that had been a big factor in why he had dipped out of today's session. The pressure was becoming a little too real. This wasn't founder's day or some silly family dinner. This was his brother's wedding. No one else in his family was going to be settling down for a while, and there was something special about Charlie. First of all, he was everyone's favorite. Not to mention Charlie and Alice's love story was disgustingly perfect, they were the blueprint. "I guess you'll be my plus one for that" said Cody, swallowing hard. The photos were going to be around for a long time. She would have probably been going anyways, the whole town was pretty much going.

"Criminal Cody. I should have known." Bella let out a sigh and shook her head slowly, pretending like she was disappointed in him. The mention of his brother's wedding completely shocked her. How could she forget about that? Her parents had talked about it more than enough times, it seemed to be a pretty big deal around town. She didn't actually process the fact that she'd have to go with Cody. He was literally apart of the family, he was probably even a groomsmen for Charlie. This put even more pressure on her, and she was not even the slightest bit prepared. She was never going to pretend to be someone's girlfriend ever again after this. "That is very true... I am going to be your plus one." she tried focussing on her work as she spoke. "Question. Is this really as big as everyone's making it out to be? Because sometimes my parents can be very dramatic, and they've talked this wedding up quite a bit."

He hesitated with his answer, "I think it is going to be that big. Hastings Planning is doing all of it, so Katie. I know my entire extended family is coming. Luckily I'm not the best man" said Cody messing around with the camera. "I know I need to be there the whole time, but you can definitely fake a stomach ache or something. Just don't blame the food, because Katie will put them out of business, or worse there'll be a pregnancy test in front of your dorm room before you know it" Cody advised. He really hadn't thought through the fact that his brother's wedding was coming up sooner than he thought. Summer seemed like such a distant thing, but it was creeping up so fast. "To a certain extent ... I don't know who is not invited. Maybe Bryce? I would assume Bryce is not invited, but Charlie might invite him out of spite".

Bella couldn't hide how nervous she was feeling. Now she would have to meet his entire family, he already had such a big immediate family. She'd probably have to prep herself and write down a list of possible questions she'd be asked so she can get answers ready in advanced. "I'm not sure I'll be able to leave early. My parents would not let me live that down if I did. My dad's 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed' tone when he speaks really hits in the heart." Bella didn't want to cause a scene by leaving the wedding, and then leave Cody with even more questions as to where's she's gone off to. It would only be one night, and if she could get through that, she could get through any other family event for Cody. "It's fine. I'll be fine. You'll be fine. Teamwork makes the dreamwork. And maybe your other siblings will be bringing dates too. Then we won't have as much attention on us."

He shuddered at the thought of his sisters having dates, "Well I'm sure Courtney or Claire's dates will be ... tolerableish. Channing though? That will be a mess, but I would rather that than seeing her hit on people. It's disturbing for sure. She likes old men, and I wouldn't put it past her to go after Nathaniel even with us dating" he monologued. Channing was the talk of the town though, just not in a good way. He could see his parents paying someone to escort her. It was that bad. "We'll be fine though, and we can definitely sneak off for a bit and sit on our phones. People will just think we're young and in love" he added, getting surprisingly nervous about the wedding. He didn't think about how many eyes were going to be on him. How many people were going to be there at an event about his family and Alice's family. It was different than founders day. Founder's Day just meant everyone would notice them, not that they would be watching them.

"I don't think Nate will be interested. One because he respects my love life, and two, because ... you know." It didn't ever seem like anyone was actually interested in Channing, but Bella understood why. She had met some mean people in her life, but Channing Summers? The woman was on a whole other level. She didn't like to speak badly about her though, Bella believed if she did, the evil spirit within Channing would come out and hurt her in some way. Too risky. "That sounds good." Being away from everyone sounded like the best option. The more time away, the better. She was starting to think about all the attention they were going to be receiving. It was very unsettling. "Are we going to dance? Because I don't mind that. I enjoy dancing, typically by myself. Feels more special that way, but dancing with someone else can be fun too."

He laughed when she said you know, everyone definitely knew. It was weird to make plans with someone like this. He hadn't dated in a long time, hadn't made any long term plans with anyone. It was weird because they weren't actually dating, just dating for everyone else. His relationship with Bella was surely a weird one. He hoped he didn't have anything like this again. "Maybe, I'm not really one for dancing" said Cody, shutting the idea down as best as he could. He just didn't like looking like an idiot, Cody felt like he was just too tall and big to be doing any dancing. He just towered over most people, he felt like a giant on the dance floor.

Without thinking, Bella pouted her lips as Cody turned down the idea of dancing. "Okay. That's fine." she answered as she looked back and forth between him and the canvas. She would never make someone do something they didn't want to, but it was going to be sad seeing everyone else dancing at the wedding. Bella wasn't very big on parties, but there was something about dancing in crowds every now and then that felt liberating. No one had their eyes specifically on Bella, everyone was simply having a fun time together. "What are you one for?" All she really knew about Cody, as far as interests went, were that he enjoyed football and possibly photography to some extent. Even though she was annoyed with him, Bella still was pushing to know more about him.

"I like parties, hanging with friends, some video games" said Cody, surprised that he didn't have a better answer. He wondered if he was boring. Cody thought he couldn't possibly be boring, he was a Summers and had friends. People wouldn't spend time with him if he was boring. But then again, he was in a fake relationship. He sat there, spiraling about whether or not he was interesting at all before asking, "what are you one for, besides art?" he asked to fill the void around the room. He felt like he was sinking, like he was the least interesting person that had ever existed. Even his sisters were more interesting.

Listening to Cody's answer proved even more that they were both very different, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If anything, Bella wished she was more like the people that had a ton of friends and partied. They seemed like they were always having fun. Parties were unfortunately a little too much for her to handle, and she never had one of those big friend groups. She did enjoy video games though, but the last time she was very passionate about it was when the Wii was thriving. Nowadays, she gravitates to more relaxing games. "That's fun, and it tracks. Sports and video games both can be competitive, and partying seems like a good fit for someone who likes other people's company. You also said you enjoy capturing moments, so hanging out with friends and creating memories sounds like something you would appreciate." She didn't mean to sound like some kind of personality quiz result, Bella just enjoyed learning about people through their interests. It said a lot about them. "The ocean and space are very special to me." she answered with a smile. "I also have specific interests that usually change once a month. This month, anteaters."

He was constantly surprised at her well thought out answers, and how quickly she came to them. You would think he would expect it by now, but there was just something about her (it was weird) but that she was confident to just say whatever she actually felt or perceived. He wasn't sure if someone just saw him? It was a stupid thought. To go with that stupid thought, she was always talking about the ocean or space when they were kids. Bella would be at a bonfire and spend the whole time away from people just looking at the sky. He didn't know why anyone would not want to be in the thick of it, getting attention from others and making memories seemed so much better. "Anteaters? Any ... reason?" he asked, his douchey tone definitely coming through on accident. He couldn't help but be skeptical. Sometimes it felt like she wanted to be weird, like she was actively seeking it out.

Bella side-eyed Cody for a second as she caught his little tone. It sounded like he was judging her instead of actually being curious. People were always questioning her, whether it was her family or someone that barely knew her. It never felt like it was because they genuinely wanted to know more about her either. This is why she enjoyed the ocean and space so much more. Even though she tried to see the best in people, they still made her feel bad about herself. When Bella was alone at the beach during the night, it was just her, the sea, and the moon. All her worries were washed away, even if it was temporary. It was nice. "I went to a thrift shop and saw an anteater beanie baby." she answered in an almost defensive tone. "It was very cute and made me realize that I don't know much about them, so I got curious. They deserve a little appreciation."

She was a strange one, "and how about next month? aardvarks?" he joked. Cody wondered if her fixations actually changed every month, like clockwork or if it was just something that happened naturally. It did give him a good gift idea for the future though, when he would undoubtedly have to give her a gift in front of his family. His mom was talking up a storm about him getting Bella something nice soon. It was so relieving not to talk about himself or his siblings with his parents, that he honestly didn't even mind his mom talking so much about Bella. She was so excited about everything, he had never seen her like this about anyone he was seeing. Now that he was thinking about it, he wasn't sure how much his parents ever liked Alexandra.

"I don't know, Cody Summers. I guess I will let you know since you're so interested. Maybe I'll even make a presentation next time." she answered, that little grumpy face coming back quicker than she thought. Bella didn't usually get too upset, she liked to think of the positives. Even when she was with Landon, if anyone was getting upset between the two, it was him. Maybe that was because she was so stupidly in love with her ex boyfriend, that she chose not to see his faults. But Cody's comments sounded like he was making fun of her, and she didn't appreciate it. Bella was starting to wonder why her parents liked him so much. Yes, she agreed to this fake relationship, but her parents were about to set her up with him anyways. It could possibly be because of his family's nice reputation, but they just seemed to really like Cody. "Maybe if you looked into them, you would like them too. There's nothing wrong with learning or trying new things."

He smiled to himself when she replied grumpily. Cody liked getting under her skin, it was the most fun he was having when he was with her. Teasing her was honestly a very good time for him. Cody wondered how someone so strange came out of the Langston household. Her brother was surely a robot, and her sisters honestly must have been made in a factory because they were flawless. Something kind of got lost in translation with Bella, but she was still pretty. Just not pretty like that. "You should tell that to the anteaters. I heard they only eat one thing" said Cody with a little laugh. He wasn't very funny. But he thought he was funny enough. The bar at home was very low.

Bella turned her attention over to Cody just to narrow her eyes at him slowly as if she were suspicious of him. She very much preferred the Cody that she was with last time, he didn’t poke fun at the innocent anteaters. “For your information, they do not just eat ants. They also eat termites. Sometimes even fruit and eggs.” she informed him. “It’s not like they can eat any tough meat, they don’t have any teeth.” Bella then cleaned off her brush and set it down and walked up to him, “Anyways, I think you look decent enough for me to take a couple of those reference pictures.” Yes he was attractive, everyone knew that, but Bella was not going to say it. All of the Summers seemed to have this cocky energy to them, but at least Charlie was sweet. He deserved the compliments. “Can I touch you? Like, fix your hair or position you differently?”

"I stand corrected" he said shortly. Honestly most of the time she spoke with him as kids it ended a lot like that. She just knew all this weird stuff for no reason, which was nice but still strange. Where did she even store all this information? Then she said decent enough. Decent enough? Did this girl seriously not find him attractive? Of all the things he knew in this world, Cody Summers knew he was everyone's type whether or not they liked him as a person. It was a trait of all the Summers children. His parents had done a great job with the genetics, and it was probably the only reason a few of his sisters had any friends. "Sure, whatever you need" he responded, a little lost at her comment. He just didn't know why she wouldn't think he was good looking. Again, everyone thought he was good looking. Cody had everything going for him: nice jaw line, 6'5", good hair, muscley but not too much. What did she even mean by good enough?

Bella nodded once at Cody before she started to mess with his hair a bit, “Thank you.” There really wasn’t much she needed to do, but if she mentioned that, it would probably go straight to his head. Bella wasn’t going to say something like, ”Even though you initially ditched this week and weren’t planning to come, you still look so effortlessly good. Wow. Please let me take the pictures of you today.” No way. But the longer she was this close to him, the more she noticed how attractive he was. Like, ridiculously attractive. Stupid Bella. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She positioned his face the way it was coming out in the painting before reaching her hand out, "Camera please. I only need a couple photos for the reference, so this won't take too long. As long as I get the right lighting." she said as she looked around the room. "Photography is not really a strength of mine. Apologies in advanced."

Cody felt weird having her so close to him. They had already kissed, but this was weirdly more intimate? He didn't really know how to describe it. He knew they were the only two in the art room, but it felt like they were alone in the building. He shook off the feeling as she asked for the camera, and he passed it to her. "If you need any help I'm not too bad at set up" he said casually as he stayed still in the position she wanted. He kind of wished he was still holding the camera, he would rather take photos of her than to have her take pictures of him. He felt a lot more comfortable behind the camera these days. She also had the kind of face that photographed well, sometimes he was surprised with just how pretty she was. But that thought was a little too much, if anything it just made them fake dating look more realistic.

Bella took hold of the camera and shook her head slowly, "I think I got it. But thank you." The few friends Bella had were just as artsy as her and some of them were great with cameras. Their art always fascinated her, so the first chance she got, she picked up a photography class. She had taken it her first semester of freshman year, but her professor didn't really teach much. It was unfortunate because she wanted to improve her skill, but that would have to be for another time. Right now, all Bella could do was hope for the best. Messing with the settings sort of scared her and the natural lighting coming through wasn't exactly helping. After taking a couple pictures, she looked over them, pouting her lips in disapproval. "On second thought, help would be much appreciated. If it's not too much to ask."

He stayed still while she took the photos. Once she took back her response about help, he slid off the stood, putting her bag on the chair. Cody took the camera and toggled with the settings, realizing he wasn't actually helping her at all. He was just doing it. So he put the camera back in her hands and showed her what he was doing from behind. Luckily he wasn't hunching as much as usual. It was nice to be around someone who was tall. Cody moved the camera up to her face, his finger over hers on the shutter button. He took her other hand and had her move around the focus under his hand "tell me when it's the perfect shot" he said quietly. Talk about things that were weirdly intimate. He couldn't stress this enough, they had already kissed. This should not be a big deal, but he was distracted by how her hair smelled, and how she could probably feel his breath.

Bella gave the camera back to Cody and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she watched him adjust the settings. She didn’t mind if he did it all on his own, she didn't want to get in his way. As he was handing the camera back, she thought everything was set, but then he went behind her and assisted her that way. Bella went into some kind of weird shock and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Was this as intense for him as it was for her? Sure they've kissed before, but the last time she was ever actually touchy with someone was when she was with Landon. But maybe she was being a dweeb about this, and this was normal for Cody. Even though things like this totally happened in romance movies, and she could kind of feel his breath on the side of her neck, and it was making her ears get all warm. "Now." she spoke softly as everything was in focus.

Cody pressed her finger onto the shutter and took a photo of the bag. "Okay now stay right there" he said as he moved the bag over and sat the way she had posed him before. He caught his breath after the moment they shared, feeling the goosebumps on the back of his neck. "Are we good here?" he asked, wanting to leave. He didn't like how intimate that all felt. It felt very real, and Cody did not believe he was compatible with Bella in the slightest. Sex was going to make this all very complicated, but he couldn't help but think about it. It was that damn shampoo. Thank god she didn't smell bad, but did she have to smell like that? It was all too much, and Cody was only sure of a few things. One of those things is that he was never going to have sex with her, and he definitely did not want to except a few minutes ago when he thought about it. A fluke, for sure.

Bella stayed as still as she could, she was practically frozen, and took the picture of Cody once he was back into position. She quickly moved the camera down from her eyes and kept her attention on that, "Yes." This had to be the most quiet she's ever been around Cody. Her strange need to talk a lot around him was still confusing to her, but her mind was scrambled right now. No words were able to come out. She also didn't want Cody to notice how red her face had gotten so him leaving now was the best option. Bella turned her back to him and headed towards her canvas. There was still some work to be done, but that would have to be for another day. All she was thinking about was that little moment they just had, and how she definitely didn't enjoy it ... even though she kind of did. His touch, his voice. Her mind was starting to wonder a little too far and it was weird. Very weird. Bella needed a break, maybe she was overworking herself. A nice walk on the beach would help clear her mind.

He dipped as soon as he could, "see ya next week" he said with a small wave before heading out. Cody had every plan of actually being back next week whether he liked it or not. This was just something he was going to have to phone in. Not something he could get out of just by being Cody. That was most of his life, getting out of things for being Cody. Not a lot of hard work involved in that. He looked back at her and he could see how red her face had gotten as he picked up the pace. He hoped this didn't feel real to her. There was a lot more to come before they were to break up. // END

[katie-dub]

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year: Operation Secret Santa

Killian gets Emma for their Secret Santa, the only trouble is, he’s never met her before.

Before you start wondering if you have deja vu, yes, this is the same prompt as yesterday. My brain saw two different paths the story could take and I wanted to write both #SorryNotSorry.

Yesterday I credited @xemmaloveskillianx with inspiring the original idea with her story Secret Santa. Today I’ve got to show some love to some banter-loving ladies who inspired me to up my banter game with this one shot. I don’t do it as well as any of them, but I try:

@welllpthisishappening for To Make The Season Bright

@blessed-but-distressed for The Morning After The Night Before

@lovethatshit for All I Want For Christmas Is…

AO3

Day 1 |  Day 2 |  Day 3 |  Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9  | Day 10 | Day 11 | Day 12

Operation Secret Santa

Emma Swan.

Killian read the words and groaned. He had obviously made the naughty list this year. He had definitely, quite specifically told Santa that for Christmas he wanted anything but being Emma Swan’s Secret Santa.

He knew he should’ve put in a written request instead of just sending his wishes out into the universe. A letter to the North Pole probably would’ve been more effective. (Although who was to say he wouldn’t still have ended up with the Secret Santa equivalent of coal in his stocking?)

He had nothing against her - but, as of yet, he hadn’t met her, which made buying any kind of decent gift for her somewhat problematic.

And her “wish list” consisted of just one word: chocolate? If worse came to worst he guessed he could always just buy 25 bucks worth of Christmas chocolate and hope for the best, but she didn’t seem all that certain that she even wanted it, so it felt like a risky move.

There was only one thing for it: Killian was just going to have to befriend the elusive Emma Swan.

Drinks Friday @ Aesop’s Tables? He messaged their group chat. He could do this. He could get to know Emma. He could discover what her heart desired and give it to her (as long as it cost $25 or less).

Operation Secret Santa was on.

Emma wasn’t coming. Of course. This was the reason for his predicament in the first place: when your job involves working nights it’s hard to socialise with people who work in the day. Still though, he could enjoy a fun night with his friends and make alternative arrangements to meet Miss Swan.

Somehow.

He was settled in a booth with David, Mary Margaret, Robin, Regina and Belle when he was temporarily distracted by a blonde bombshell in a figure hugging dress.

“Play your card, Killian!” Robin said, nudging him hard in the side. They were playing Cards Against Humanity and he had been debating whether “Jesus is -” “gift wrapping a live hamster” or “taking down Santa with a surface-to-air missile”. He turned his attention back to the game and picked his card.

“What are you guys playing?”

He looked up at the unfamiliar voice. The bombshell was standing next to them, leaning forward to take a look at their game. He licked his lips involuntarily at the sight of her, oh yes, things were about to get interesting.

“Emma!” David cried, already cruising past tipsy and well into full on drunk territory and it had only just turned 8. He tried to stand up, but was thwarted by the table and instead pulled her down into the booth beside him, kissing her on the cheek.

Killian frowned at the display, was this beauty Emma Swan? If not, he couldn’t quite understand either David’s actions or Mary Margaret’s lack of reaction.

“Killian!” Dave interrupted his train of thought. “Have you met Emma?”

“Swan?” he asked, uncertain if he wanted the answer to be yes or no. On the one hand, he would enjoy nothing more than to get to know this enchantress. On the other, she was his best mate’s sister and he was fairly certain he’d get a punching for so much as looking at her funny.

“Guilty as charged. And you must be Killian Jones, my brother’s new boyfriend.”

David nodded but then processing what she said, shook his head. “What Killian and I have is a bromance for the ages, but nothing more. My dearest Mary Margaret is the only one for me.”

“More’s the pity,” Killian said sincerely. Emma laughed and he caught her eye, enjoying the twinkle of mischief he saw there. Oh man, was he in trouble.

Killian was definitely in trouble. He hadn’t realised that tonight Aesop’s Tables was branching out with “Christmasoke”. He waited at the bar, cringing as David warbled his way through “All I Want for Christmas is You” to a ridiculously happy Mary Margaret.

The trouble wasn’t that he couldn’t sing - Dave had a disturbingly attractive singing voice that had almost Killian questioning his sexuality - more that he was too drunk to remember the words or read them on the screen. He also seemed to be attempting some kind of ill-advised dance routine to add a little pizzazz to his performance and Killian was slightly concerned that he was going to break a bone.

“This is your fault.” Emma was nodding towards David with a look of disgust on her face.

“How do you figure?”

“You suggested this place.”

“I didn’t know this was going to happen and believe me, I didn’t force your brother to perform.” He watched in mild horror as David hit the final high note with alarming clarity and nearly fell off the karaoke platform attempting to bow.

“Still. I think you owe me.” He turned his full attention to Emma with a wide grin, intrigued by the suggestion.

“Oh yeah?” He leaned in a little closer. “And what exactly is it that I owe you?”

“Alcohol. Lots of it.”

“Your wish is my command,” he said with a grin, motioning to the bartender for another drink.

“Every time someone massacres Mariah tonight, I expect another drink.”

“Are you sure that your liver can take that much alcohol? I don’t want to poison you.”

“I will welcome death with open arms.”

He laughed at the melodramatic statement. “You seem to feel very strongly about festive tunes.”

“Festive songs are barely tolerable as it is. Can’t have people with their poor cover versions and shitty karaoke renditions destroying the classics.”

“Very true, love. OK, we have a deal. Every time a classic dies, you get a drink.”

“Good man.”

Killian had his arms wrapped around Emma’s waist and was holding her steady as she attempted to open her front door. He wished that this was in the context of having been invited for a nightcap, but it was simply a consequence of 5 renditions of All I Want for Christmas is You, 3 of Jingle Bell Rock and a particularly terrible performance of White Christmas.

Emma Swan was messy drunk and having supplied most of her drinks he felt the need to ensure that she got home safely. He was fairly certain that David would kill him if he didn’t.

When it became apparent that she wasn’t able to unlock her door without help, he wrapped his hand around hers, guiding the key towards the lock. Between them they stumbled into her apartment. He tried to release her once she was through the door, but when she nearly fell over he picked her up in a bridal lift.

She giggled and he felt weak-kneed. He was definitely going to blame the rum for that, although the truth was that Emma giggling just did things to him.

She pointed him in the direction of her room and he carried her there. He carefully placed her down and deliberately ignored the way her dress had ridden up her thighs. He moved to go get her a drink, when she grabbed hold of his lapels and pulled him in for a kiss.

It was messy. A little too much teeth and not enough finesse but she was pulling him in as though desperate for him. And he wanted that so much. But… This wasn’t right.

He pulled back from her and she let go of him and dropped back against her bed. “That was…” he panted and broke off, unsure of how to continue. Unexpected? Definitely. Hot? Yes. A terrible move? Oh, absolutely.

“Thanks, Killian,” Emma mumbled and closed her eyes. He left her room in search of water intending to make her drink some before she fell asleep. However by the time he returned she was passed out and so he set down the glass on her bedside table, covered her with her blanket and left her to sleep.

Killian stood at Emma’s door, hot drinks tray in hand, internally debating whether this was the right move to make.

On the one hand, after last night’s alcohol intake she was sure to need some form of refreshment. On the other, she might not appreciate the appearance of the guy who got her drunk, carried her to bed, kissed her then left, on her doorstep. Even if he did come bearing gifts.

He decided not to second guess it. He would offer her a beverage and be on his way. If she invited him in, excellent, but he was hardly expecting her to roll out the red carpet for him.

He knocked and waited. She eventually opened the door looking bleary-eyed and clutching at her head. “Killian?” She looked deeply confused by his presence, or perhaps she was just fighting a hangover to keep her eyes open.

“I come bearing hot beverages to chase the hangover away. Tell me, love, what’s your poison?”

She blinked. “That is too much words for this much hangover.”

Killian chuckled. “I have a choice of: hot chocolate, tea, black coffee - there’s cream and sugar if you want, and some disgustingly sugary festive concoction claiming to contain caffeine and calories.”

“For me?” was all Emma said, he nodded. “Why?”

“I feel a bit responsible for how drunk you were.”

“You should.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to go home and torture myself with festive tunes on repeat.”

“The really bad ones?”

“Definitely. Especially dodgy cover versions of once great Christmas songs.”

Emma nodded approvingly. “Good. I’ll take the hot chocolate.” He passed it over and watched as she took a sip then her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Cinnamon?”

“Is that OK?” He scratched behind his ear. “Sorry, I picked that up from your charming brother and sister in law.”

“It’s good. It, er, runs in the family.” There was a long pause. “Thanks for the, how’d you say it? ‘hot beverage’,” she mimicked his accent and used air quotes, but damn if it wasn’t adorable. “But, I need to go die in bed, so bye. Might see you later if I come back from the dead.”

Are you dead yet?

Why do you have my number?

I needed to be certain that I could obtain proof of life for Dave. I couldn’t have him thinking that I behaved in an untowards manner when I escorted you home.

Stop texting like Mr Darcy. It just killed me again.

Because you were overcome by how attractive I am even via text?

I’m going to haunt you from beyond the grave. I’m not going to leave you alone for a second.

I would despair if you did.

Your ghost is very lazy, I haven’t noticed one book fly across the room unexpectedly, heard any unusual noises or even misplaced my keys once in the past few days.

Sorry, Killian, I did come back from the dead.

Shouldn’t you be trying to eat me then?

Emma sent a selfie with brows furrowed, lips pursed and head tilted to one side. Caption: Seriously?

I meant my brains. Like a zombie.

OK.

Although I would never deny a lady who was wanting to act out her deepest desires.

Shut up, Jones.

As you wish.

Stakeouts are the worst.

I’m bored.

Come on, Mr Darcy, distract me from the cold.

Are you asking me to come warm you up, love?

You wish.

I only meant I could bring you hot chocolate and grilled cheese. Although I could be persuaded to try other techniques to keep you warm. I hear that skin to skin contact is excellent for transferring body heat. ;)

I shouldn’t have texted you.

Killian wasn’t entirely certain that he was actually learning anything about Emma that would help him with Operation Secret Santa. So far his present ideas consisted of hot chocolate and hand warmers. While he was sure she’d appreciate both, they didn’t feel like the thoughtful gift that would come of such extensive reconnaissance.

And yet he found that he had no interest in cutting off contact.

He loved needling her - enjoying the way she cut him dead in his teasing. And texting her was becoming his favourite part of the day. He strongly suspected that he needed to get out more. And that was why he found himself agreeing to a set up.

The Frost sisters were new to town and Mary Margaret seemed to have made it her mission to help the elder one find love. As he secretly suspected that Mary Margaret wanted to give him a love life for Christmas too, he thought she must have been delighted by the plan.

It was not going well.

Elsa was perfectly lovely - although she had the misfortune of having another blonde beauty to live up to. Nice as she was, her cool, calm demeanour stood in stark relief to Emma’s more firey nature and suffered by comparison.

Luckily they worked out quite quickly that neither one was interested in anything more than friendship. It meant they could relax and settle into an evening of eating and laughing at the over the top festive decorations of the restaurant (at least one customer got tangled in low hanging snowflakes much to their amusement and hanging mistletoe over the tables seemed more than a little desperate.)

In fact, the only dark spot on the evening was when he looked at his phone while Elsa was in the bathroom to see several messages from Emma.

Got the guy early so I’ve got the evening free, want to do something?

I have a strange urge to mock Christmas movies. There will be popcorn and rum. If you’re not busy.

I’ve never known you to be this quiet. You better not be silently judging me for the festive film viewing.

He was just about to reply when Elsa slid back into her seat. He sighed a little and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Who is she?” Elsa asked with a knowing grin.

“Sorry?”

“Whoever’s texting you - you were gazing at your phone like a lovesick puppy and looked so sad to have to put it away just now.”

He scoffed and shook his head in a way that was intended to convey oh, that meant nothing. But then his phone buzzed in his pocket and he twitched to see if Emma had more to say. Elsa laughed at him. “What’s say that we get the bill so you can get back to your phone?” He blushed a little but nevertheless nodded in agreement.

Forgive me Lady Swan, I was unavoidably detained, is that offer still open?

No.

Unless you get me pop tarts.

He knocked on her door, pop tarts in hand a little over 30 minutes later. “Your pop tarts, milady,” he said, presenting them with a flourish. She rolled her eyes, but took them from him and stepped aside to let him in.

He had an unfortunate flash of memory of the last time he was in this apartment - of enthusiastic if sloppy kisses - that he forced himself to push aside. He wasn’t entirely sure if she remembered them, and if she did, she seemed to have no interest in repeating the experience.

He sauntered to the couch and slumped down into it. “What are we watching?”

“A Christmas Prince - it’s absolutely terrible,” Emma answered, her eyes lighting up gleefully. She settled down next to him, snuggling into his side. Interesting. “So, where were you earlier?” she asked, her voice sounding just a little too casual.

“I was on a date.” She stiffened and shifted, subtly moving herself away from him. He smiled to himself at her response, and put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her back towards him. “Mary Margaret seems to be trying to act out a Hallmark Christmas movie and find the lonely Brit a date for Christmas. She might’ve had more luck if she had checked that the chosen lady wanted to date a man.”

“She set you up with a lesbian?” Emma pushed away from him to gape at him in horror.

He chuckled. “Not quite that bad - she’s bi, but said she’s more interested in dating a woman at present. She didn’t really like to get into the particulars with someone she had only just met, which is why she agreed.”

“Oh your poor ego,” Emma teased.

“My ego can take it. I may be devilishly handsome, but the heart wants what it wants and I’m clearly too manly for her.” Emma snorted with laughter. “Besides, I only went to shut Mary Margaret up.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” was Emma’s cheeky reply, but she happily cuddled back into him before switching the film back on.

The more time he spent with Emma the more he realised that her list wasn’t designed as some kind of “fuck you” to the entire Secret Santa concept - she just genuinely wasn’t into stuff. She had her few creature comforts: snuggly blankets, a coffee maker, an impressive stash of tooth-rotting treats, but she seemed to prefer a simple life.

It was endearing, but again, challenging. His list of potential things Emma might like for Christmas was up to hot chocolate, hand warmers, rum, pop tarts and possibly Harry Potter merchandise.

Christmas Eve was getting ever closer and while he had succeeded in getting to know Emma Swan, the perfect gift for her became ever more elusive. The better he knew her, the more he wanted to get something incredible.

In the end he bought a stocking and filled it with little everyday luxuries for her. It still felt like not quite enough, but $25 only took you so far. Still, she seemed to appreciate it all when she opened it for the gift exchange, so he was classing Operation Secret Santa a success.

So why didn’t he feel more satisfied?

“Hey, Santa.” He was hiding in the kitchen to escape from the increasingly torturous festive games Mary Margaret was making them play when Emma found him.

He looked up, quirking a brow at her, puzzled by Emma’s greeting. “Hmm?”

“You telling me that you’re not Santa?”

“Are you calling me a jolly old fat man? Is that a hint to lay off the desserts? Because honestly, that’s a little rude, love. You don’t want to wound my ego, do you?”

She laughed at him. “Don’t worry, you still look dashing. But are you really telling me that you’re not my Santa?”

His mouth dropped open in surprise but he smiled at her all the same. “You’re bloody brilliant, you know that, Swan?”

She smiled, looking a little smug and dropped into a curtsey.

“So did I do OK with my Santa duties?”

“Hmmm.” Emma looked thoughtful. “Can I be honest?”

Killian’s eyebrows shot up in wonder - what on earth could she have to say? “Aye?” he replied warily.

“There’s something that I want. I’ve been dropping hints, and I kind of thought that Santa might have picked up on it?” She smiled up at him through her eyelashes. Did she mean what he thought she meant? Ever since his date with Elsa, he’d hoped, but that was just wishful thinking, right?

Killian’s heart beat a little faster. “And what might that be?”

She leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips gently to his. “At the risk of being cheesy, all I want for Christmas is you.”

“Well, love, luckily for you, I feel exactly the same.” And when he kissed her it felt like all his Christmas wishes had come true.

[makuroshi]

This fluffy fic is my Eruri Secret Santa gift for @danchou-smith! Your wish list left me open to a lot of options, and I’ve chosen the domestic fluff/humour route (with a tint of smut, of course)... I haven’t written in a long, long while so I’m rusty, but I hope you liked it~ Happy holidays, love :) *Also on AO3

Title: “hello fuck off, i’m erwin”

Ratings: M

Summary:

“I’m an editor now, but I used to work at a calendar factory,” Erwin says, popping a chip into his mouth. “I got sacked.”

Levi’s interest is piqued. “Why?” He asks, curious.

Erwin glances up from his plate, smirking like he’s up to no good. “Because I took a couple of days off,” he says, snickering as if something is so funny.

Levi doesn’t get it.

(or Levi meets the fabled oh-so-perfect Erwin Smith and instantly learns that he’s not always what he seems. He falls in love anyway)

---

“Listen,” Hange says, excitement evident on her face as she leans forward, encroaching into Levi’s space. Levi can already guess what she is going to talk about; she’s been harping on it for days. “I have this friend, you know? That tall blonde guy I went to college with? I was talking about you that day and he’s interested to know more about you.”

“Mike said he smells nice. Wonderful, even.”

“And why the hell should that convince me?!”

“You know how Mike is! He can smell evil from miles away!” Hange swings her arms in an exaggerated gesture and Levi sighs, feeling a headache coming.“I’m telling you, Erwin’s a great guy. Almost impeccable if not for—“ She pauses, as if suddenly remembering something, then brushes it off “Nevermind, just meet him once, please?”

“No.”

“I’ll make my students stay back to clean the classrooms and the office everyday for a month?”

Levi considers, and then- “Deal.”

And that’s how Levi ends up in a family restaurant across the street, on a set-up meeting (not a date) with the one and only Erwin Smith.

Erwin Smith is, to put it simply, insanely attractive. His flawless appearance might be intimidating to some people, but to Levi, nothing turns him on more than a calm and collected man who knows how to keep his suits crease-free and hair perfectly in place. The height is a very much appreciated bonus –the first time Levi hears that they have a good 1’ between them he almost drags the guy straight to bed. Almost.

Throughout their not-date, Levi slowly learns more about Erwin, and with each passing second, he’s solidifying Hange’s claim that he’s Mr. Perfect. Levi can’t believe his luck. But come to think of it… Hange did blurt something about Erwin, right?

“I’m an editor now, but I used to work at a calendar factory,” Erwin says, popping a chip into his mouth. “I got sacked.”

Levi’s interest is piqued. “Why?” He asks, curious.

Erwin glances up from his plate, smirking like he’s up to no good. “Because I took a couple of days off,” he says, snickering as if something is so funny.

Levi doesn’t get it. He replays what Erwin said in his head. ‘I got sacked from a calendar factory because I took some days off—‘

Wow.

“That was… awful,” he deadpans. “You in charge of Reader’s Digest jokes section or something?”

“Economics, actually. But I dabble,” Erwin smirks. Levi wants to punch his face at how beautiful he looks. “

So this is it. This was what Hange had almost let slip. Erwin Smith’s flaw is that he makes terrible jokes. And not just any jokes, he makes… dad jokes.

Uh oh.

“So?” Hange claps a hand on his back when she runs into him the next day. Levi knows she wants to talk, but he doesn’t.

“So what?” He snaps, pressing the red pen onto one of his students’ book so hard that it pokes through it. He looks at the front page. Eren Jaeger. Tough luck, kid.

Hange’s still starry-eyed, ignoring Levi’s distress. “So… with Erwiiiinnn? How’d it go?”

“Mostly amazing but…” Levi replies, pointing an accusatory finger at Hange. “You knew.”

“That he has a dreadful sense of humour? Yeah,” Hange chuckles, shaking her head. “But other than that, isn’t he just your type?” She grins. “Admit it, you’d totally climb him like a tree.”

He’s suddenly reminded of Erwin’s exasperatingly hot physique and shit, that’s a thought he doesn’t need when he has a class to teach in ten.

“Do you think you guys will work out?” Hange asks. Levi closes his eyes and replies, “We’ll see.”

 And they work out just fine, it seems. The subsequent dates go well (yes, he can call them dates now), and even though Erwin still sometimes say shit like “Did you hear about the chef, Levi? He pasta away” while they’re eating fucking pasta, Levi is willing to put it past him, especially since he gets to shut Erwin up nicely by riding his dick to oblivion after a particularly flirty night.

Mike smiles knowingly (note, creepily) when Hange and him hangs out on the weekend, and really, who cares about the teasing when Erwin’s such a fantastic fuck?

He has never thought it’d come to this, but somehow one thing leads to another and Levi moves in with Erwin after a year and a half of being together.

The place they get is in a gated neighbourhood, homely and convenient for them both, more so for Levi as the school he works at is within walking distance. Erwin still has to drive to his office, which is not a problem as his job sometimes entails driving around to meetings anyway.

Living with Erwin is surprisingly easy to get used to. They fall into a comfortable routine without much hassles, and life is going really, really great.

But if there’s something Levi has trouble with, it’s Erwin’s work timing.

Erwin’s job as a senior editor should be less taxing than it is currently, considering that he is now rather high up in the food chain. He’s well-respected in the industry, a favourite among the crowd for both his talents and charm; he no longer needs to work his ass off day and night to prove his worth.

Except it’s Erwin we’re talking about. He has always been a bit of an workaholic, not accepting anything less than perfect for the pieces he approve, and that results in him working extra hours, even on the weekends.

It’s not ideal, of course, but Levi manages.

Today is a rare but welcomed occurrence. For the first time in a while, Levi wakes up to Erwin’s broad chest smothering his face, warmth engulfing him in a bone-crushing embrace. He inhales the musky scent that he’s come to love, and runs a hand along Erwin’s strong back, scraping his nails on purpose. He’s sated from last night and still feels floaty and disgustingly happy.

Erwin stirs, eyes still closed. “Morning,” he mumbles.

Levi’s reply is a muffled ‘hmmm’ as he buries his face deeper into the comforting touch. He throws a leg over Erwin’s larger ones under the covers and contemplates sleeping in, before something suddenly crosses his mind.

“What’s wrong?” Erwin asks, plush lips settling on the side of Levi’s head.

“It’s Saturday. We have to take out the trash.”

Erwin groans and draws Levi closer, to his vocal protest. “Can’t we do that another day?”

“And let the maggots breed? No fucking way.” Levi struggles viciously against the hold and breaks free, making his way out of the bedroom. For the lack of better things to do now that the other side of the bed is empty, Erwin reluctantly follows.

Once they’re done with the trash (Levi makes Erwin clean the bin to make up for all the times he had to do it alone), Erwin pleads. “There. Now can we go back inside and cuddle?”

 They don’t, in fact, go back inside and cuddle. Instead, Erwin finds himself with a shopping list in a grocery store, crouching in Aisle 5 searching for honey. Levi’s off somewhere to settle the other half of the list, and they agree to meet up at the check-out after twenty minutes.

They don’t get much, after all it’s only the two of them (for now, a voice in Levi’s head says). The cashier, a kid with close-shaved head scans the milk and beams cheerfully at them.

“Would you like your milk in a bag, sir?”

Levi swears he sees it; the mischievous glint in Erwin’s eyes when the cashier asks the question. He cannot anticipate yet what he’s going to say –his mind isn’t as fast as Erwin’s when it comes to this- but he knows it is going to be nothing short of a disaster. Before Levi can kick him in back of the knee in a desperate attempt to rescue their dignities, Erwin has already opened his mouth to speak.  Shit, too late. Oh well, at least the kid has to hear this too.

“No thanks, please leave it in the jug!”

 Silence.

Erwin grins.

God, Levi wants to die.

He’s so sure that almost everyone within the vicinity had heard that, because Erwin had made it a point to say it with a loud, booming voice. That only happens when he is confident enough that his joke is funny, which is why the current situation is even more painful because absolutely no one is laughing.

Or so Levi thinks.

The kid (‘Connie’, his nametag reads) starts biting his bottom lip, face contorting into a mixture of constipation and holding back a wet fart. Connie’s shoulders are shaking visibly now, grip on the bread he’s scanning tightening (RIP bread), and it’s not long before Levi realizes that he is actually stifling a laugh. A giggle or two escapes him, then all of a sudden, Connie throws his head back and roars in laughter, hitting the counter repeatedly to emphasise just how funny he found that joke. The two young ladies behind them are also covering her face with their hands, probably concealing their own giggles. Erwin is undoubtedly very pleased with himself, glancing back and forth between Connie and Levi as if saying ‘hey look at that, I’m so funny right’ but Levi is not having any of that.

He sends a piercing glare at Connie, who upon seeing Levi’s murderous face resumes scanning the items at the speed of light. They pay, grab the bags and leave the shop in record three minutes twenty seconds

“You scared him!” Erwin says disapprovingly once they reach the parking lot, loading the bags into the car.

Levi jabs Erwin in the hip sharply, reveling in Erwin’s yelp of pain. He rearranges the bags so they fit and slams the trunk shut. “And you embarrassed me.”

“Awww come on, you loved it!”

“Save your dad jokes from when you actually become one.”

Levi can almost feel the world stopping the second he says it. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to come out! He freezes up, and he wants to run away because he knows Erwin will ask about it but he’s trapped in the car

“Levi,” Erwin carefully places a hand on his thigh, a sign that he’s not gonna let this go so easily. “Are you saying you wanna have kids with me?”

“Don’t spin my words, bastard.”

“Do you?” Erwin has a small smile playing on his lips. He is now staring at him like he’s his world, bright blue eyes so fond and tender and holy shit, Levi thinks, I’m really in love with this guy.

“Maybe,” He mutters, gazing outside the window to hide his face, worried of what kind of vulnerable expression he must be doing right now. “Someday.”

After that ‘Carpark Confession’ incident (no thanks Hange for the name), Erwin is visibly more affectionate than before. He steals more kisses from Levi than the norm, and his touches linger a lot, but at least he doesn’t bring it up anymore. Levi takes that as a sign that Erwin understands that he can see them having a future together, which is definitely more than enough. A typical day in their life now goes like this:

“Hey love,” Erwin sets a cup of tea on the table, leaning down to kiss the top of Levi’s head fondly. “How’s your day?”

Levi mutters a soft ‘thanks’ and lifts the cup by the brim, bringing it close to his lips. “They changed the janitor to one that can actually do his job… at least half of the class submitted their homework… and Hange blew up only one test tube instead of the usual five. So, ‘s okay, I guess.” He takes a sip from the tea and marvels in how it’s delicious as always, just the right amount of warmth and sweetness. Erwin’s not a big fan of tea, but boy does he make a good cup.

“Mmmm,” Erwin hums in content, engrossed in reading a magazine. “I got complimented on my driving today,” he says, nonchalant.

At that, Levi’s eyes narrow. Erwin drives like he’s chasing a flight or trying to escape assassins all the time, there’s no way somebody finds that kind of road skills praiseworthy. He turns to face Erwin, who is still avoiding any eye contact. Something’s not right. “Oh really.”

“Yeah, really.” Closing the magazine, Erwin stands up in a subtle hurry that doesn’t escape Levi’s attention. He’s already halfway across the room when he continues. “They left a little note saying ‘parking fine’.”

“Erwin,” Levi growls, expression darkening. “Did you get a ticket again.”

“Oh is that what it meant?” Erwin feigns innocence, laughing nervously. “I thought they were complime--” He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before he bolts up the stairs hysterically, a fuming Levi hot on his tails.

Levi has been away from home for the past week for the annual Sina High team-building camp he’s forced to go as one of the class teachers. He’s convinced the whole bullshit is unnecessary and an utter waste of time, but Principal Pixis insisted that everyone attends and Levi wasn’t in a mood to argue.

So… a week apart from Erwin. The longest they’ve spent apart was four days, when Erwin had to go on a short business trip to Canada. One week is just three days added to that, they should be fine, right?

Right.

There’s a problem though.

He’s horny. So painfully horny.

Before he’d left for the trip, they have not been able to have much sex as Erwin’s sister was in town and had crashed at their house for a few days. So it’s really been two weeks since him and Erwin last fucked, which is downright insane considering how insatiable they both usually are.

Levi tries it with his fingers on one of the nights but it just isn’t the same. It feels good, but nothing like what Erwin offers when he slowly, carefully fingers him open, getting him ready for his cock. Erwin’s just… fills him up nicer and hits him in all the right places, and Levi is almost sobbing with frustration as he chases a weak release alone.

He gets home the next evening, thinking that he can finally get his fill of Erwin again. He opens the door ready to pounce, only to be greeted with an empty house.

Erwin’s working late again.

Levi sighs in disappointment, grudgingly heading towards their room, hoping that he will be back soon.

The rattle of keys wakes him up with a jerk. Desire and excitement coursing through his veins, Levi practically zooms down the stairs, and the instance Erwin appears at the door, Levi tackles and drags him down onto the floor, suitcase and work files be damned. They fall with a thud in a heap of tangled limbs, in the middle of the hallway that has not been swept and mopped for a week. Damn it. He should probably move this to the bedroom where it’s much more hygienic and conducive, but Levi doesn’t think he can stand another minute not having Erwin’s dick in him without spontaneously combusting.

“I’m so fucking horny right now,” Levi hisses, fingers scrambling to clumsily undo the buttons of Erwin’s black coat. He gets to the third button when Erwin chooses that moment to sit up, pressing his growing hard-on into Levi’s bottom in the process, earning a loud filthy moan from the man. “Shit, Erwin,” Levi pants, breathless.

“Levi, what’s gotten into you?” Erwin says, sliding his nimble hands under Levi’s shirt, leaving feathery touches in their wake.

“You, I hope. Preferably right now,” Levi replies, tossing away the coat haphazardly. It lands a little too close to the foot of the stairs, but he can’t care less. Ignoring Erwin’s chuckle, he tears hungrily at the tailored shirt, relishing in the sound of the buttons hitting the floor. He licks a stripe from Erwin’s collarbone down to the top of his pants, tasting the sweat on his heated flesh. “Stop laughing like an idiot and get on to it.”

Erwin is certainly more than happy to oblige. He eagerly helps rid Levi of his pants and watches in awe as Levi’s erection springs free, already red and straining for release.

“You’ve got a lot pent up,” Erwin grumbles, leaning down to blow onto the tip of Levi’s length, coaxing a grunt out of him. “Look at you… So needy like this.” He sneaks a hand behind and slips a finger into Levi’s ass, eyes widening at the realization that he’s already wet and open.

“You’re late. I had to prepare myself,” Levi gasps as Erwin reinserts his finger, playing with the rim of his entrance. His body arches in unabashed pleasure and he can’t fight the carnal urge to push back against Erwin, grinding against him frantically. “Wanted your cock so bad,” he whines.

“Fucking hell, Levi.”

Erwin surges forward to catch Levi’s lips in a frenzied kiss, never letting him go more than a few seconds as he slicks himself up and enters Levi, basking in the obscene sounds of skin hitting skin. 

Somewhere between Erwin eating his come out of Levi’s ass and Levi greedily lapping at Erwin’s spent cock, they make it to the bedroom to continue where things are left off, and after both their bodies ache delightfully from the hours and hours of incessant lovemaking, they lay together in silence, catching their breaths.

Levi is thoroughly satisfied and is about drift to a peaceful sleep when he feels Erwin’s big hand caress the back of his neck. He opens his eyes and there he is, grinning cheekily.

“Hey Levi, do you know the difference between a frog and a horny toad?” Oh no. Here it comes. “A frog says ‘ribbit, ribbit’, a horny toad says ‘rub it, rub it’.”

The smug look on his stupid face as he wiggles those godawful eyebrows makes Levi want nothing more than to rip them off and turn them into a doormat. Or a hand towel, Levi hasn’t decided yet.

For now, he settles for smacking the pillow hard into Erwin’s face, yelling at him to go to sleep.

It’s Christmas Eve, also so creatively coined ‘Levi’s Birthday Eve’ by Hange.

Levi’s busy preparing drinks in the kitchen for the party they’ll throw later tonight when his phone buzzes in his pocket, begging for attention. Thinking it’s one of the guys bailing out on the party or asking for directions, he checks it but is puzzled by the caller’s name on the screen.

It’s Erwin.

The guy is literally in the living room, setting up the table.

Levi picks up anyway, knowing that this is just one of Erwin’s demented method of flirting. He’s done this before, once or twice when he’s bored. Levi would humour him if they have the time, but the party is starting soon and they still have some preparations pending. “Why are you calling me?”

“Oh I don’t know…” Hmm, that’s strange. Erwin’s deep voice feels close, like he’s in the same room standing behind him. There’s also a nervous edge to it, which is unbecoming of the usually calm man. “Just felt like-“ Levi hears him both over the phone and in the other ear now. “-giving you a ring.”

Levi turns around sharply and sees Erwin, holding a phone in one hand and hiding the other behind him. He’s about to ask him to quit messing around when Erwin swiftly drops to one knee and holds out a box.

Levi stares, mouth agape.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Knock, knock,” Erwin says, causing Levi to frown. A knock-knock joke, really?

“Erwin what the fuck—“

“Knock. Knock.” He repeats pointedly, sounding almost completely serious if not for the sheer absurdity of the joke and the situation itself.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Levi relents. Erwin is on his knee in front of him, looking like whatever Levi says next will either make or break him, and he can’t help but to play along. “Who’s there?”

“Mary.”

Levi’s breath hitches. He knows exactly where this is going. His heart is already going at a thousand miles an hour, threatening to leap right out of his chest, and there’s a lump stuck in his throat but he somehow manages to find his voice.

“Mary who?” He says, still staring down at Erwin though his vision is getting foggy.

Erwin’s lips curve up in a gentle smile, the one that always knocks all air out of Levi’s lungs and makes him want to drop everything to be with him. “Marry me.” He takes one of Levi’s hand into his own and presses a small kiss onto the knuckles, whispering, “Please?”

It’s cheesier than the lasagna they had for lunch -and that’s saying a lot because Erwin had made it with enough mozzarella to make at least three large pizzas, urgh- and a part of him kind of hates Erwin for pulling the stunt when he least expected it, on the Christmas Eve no less. But there is nothing in the world he wants more than to have the fleeting glimpse of Erwin’s face the moment he says ‘yes’ and pulls him in for a kiss be burned into his memories forever.

Oh, Levi thinks as he looks at the clock, remembering the party that’s happening in an hour. Hange and Mike’re gonna have a field day with this.

(Two months into their married life, when Levi asks when his appointment with the dentist is and Erwin answers with a casual “tooth hurt-y”, Levi realizes that he’s stuck with a relentless, irritatingly attractive middle-aged man with a penchant for horribly amusing dad jokes.

And the best part? He wouldn’t want it any other way.)

[lucanogis]

fic: to have and to hold - pt. i

Title: to have and to hold  Fandom: Gakuen Alice Pairing: Hotaru Imai x Luca Nogi Length: 5k Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged that a spy in need of money must be in want of a groom. Or: Hotaru wants to fund her inventions. A widow wants her husband's murderer. And Luca Nogi? Luca Nogi can't help but want the newest addition to his crew. // Part 2 in the GA-crew!verse, written for @ga-party‘s writing challenge: Wedding AU. 

{ao3} , {ffn}

Chapter 1: The Plan

Apartment 2B is wholly unsuitable to house a bunch of Japan’s most notorious criminals.

Not only does it come with ten discret neighbors, some of which not only share the building with them but actual room walls, it also lacks any of the equipment necessary for Hotaru Imai to create one of her masterpieces. Instead (and she has made it a point to take inventory of all the many useless additions to her new home) it has three separate gaming consoles, an added fridge for “cooking experiments” and a pet raven called ‘Mrs Rogers’. The roof, which is used for training or weapon storage, also features a fake palm tree and a hot tub the size of a small country. It is therefore completely unsurprising to Hotaru that Mikan decided to move in immediately after her first visit.

The far more complex question is why she has decided to move in as well.

It’s been roughly six months since Z, her former crew, chose to not only join The Academy, a merry band of ruthless murderers, but also unceremoniously oust her in the middle of a job. Luckily - or, if her best friend is to be believed, due to fate - she managed to team up with Mikan’s new crew to escape her own death. Said crew, named Nova by its founder and apparent leader (and Mikan’s idiot of a boyfriend) Natsume, has since welcomed her with open arms. It’s not too difficult for Hotaru to see why, given their apparent inability to budget.

But no member of Nova ever demanded that she join them in their apartment. Hiding made sense the first few weeks after her near death experience, sure. But Hotaru had somehow managed to keep her cover during the ballroom altercation and thus whispers of her joining a new crew had been, if anything, little more than an unconfirmed rumor. At first she’d woken up at night in cold sweat, wondering whether Z had sold her identity, whether they would come after her or any civilians connected to her, like her brother. But research had revealed to her that those who knew her by name had been disposed of as well. As such, that particular worry of hers has slowly but certainly vanished, leaving her to focus on her job.

More often than not, Hotaru keeps her hands and her mind occupied with weapon designs. She trains on the roof, getting to know each member of Nova and their unique skills. She goes on missions with them, always conscious of the distrust some still feel towards her and conscious of the distrust she can’t help but feel towards them.

The moments where her thoughts at last quiet down bring her the answer to her own question: Why did she stay in Nova’s apartment? Because, as incongruent as it seems, it makes her happy.

Of the eight, now nine, crew members Nova has, only six regularly live in the main apartment. The remaining two are scattered throughout the city, either by choice or due to an assignment. Hotaru has to admit she doesn’t miss their presence - being roommates with people that aren’t just Mikan is difficult enough. She has to deal with Natsume burning every meal he tries to cook, Misaki and Tsubasa being disgustingly in love and Luca Nogi being, well. A distraction at best and a threat to her sanity at worst.

Hotaru doesn’t pretend that Luca isn’t attractive. She certainly won’t deny that they’ve had sex in the goddamn hot tub she hates so much. And she won’t even lie and say that he doesn’t have the uncanny ability to make her feel calm, regardless of their turbulent job. But unfortunately for him, Luca has one glaring flaw: He is a spy, much like her. As much as Hotaru likes to fuck spies, she doesn’t fuck with them. It conjures up feelings in her heart and feelings conjure up memories; of darkness and blood and screaming until her throat grows raw and - Suffice it to say, she has no interest in attachments. Mikan is fine because Mikan has always been there. Nogi, however, is not a risk she is willing to take.

Hence they’ve agreed on a particular kind of relationship: Professionals, working together, who sometimes have sexual encounters in expensive bathrooms but who do not, under any circumstances, have an interest in anything more. Hotaru is satisfied with that arrangement. Romance, or the illusion of it, will never weasel its way into her life.

Naturally that doesn’t change the fact that only a week later, Hotaru finds herself standing at the altar, with Luca Nogi sliding a ring onto her finger and white chiffon caressing her skin.

Apartment 2B, Tokyo / April 3rd, 2am

“You need to buy the apartment next door,” Hotaru Imai says. She’s seated on one of the living room armchairs, comfortably basking in the final rays of the setting sun. Her best friend is out on a minor reconnaissance mission and she’s lounging in the living room with Natsume and Luca, something she would normally avoid but which has become necessary due to the simple fact that there is something she wants. “Either you do it yourself or I do it using your funds when you and Mikan are busy having alone time.”

“You’d think I get a choice in this,” Natsume Hyuuga, the Black Cat, comments, “given that this is my crew we’re talking about. And my apartment. And my money.”

“Funny,” Hotaru replies, leaning back and taking a sip of her wine. “I think I vaguely remember most of our funds coming in due to inventions I sold on the blackmarket.”

“She has a point,” Luca Nogi says. He’s sitting cross-legged on the wooden apartment floor, his pet raven picking seeds out of his hand. Natsume narrows his eyes at his best friend.

“You’re only saying that because she’s the only person in this apartment willing to play poker with you,” he declares. “Also, where did your loyalty go?”

“I imagine it’s in the hot tub,” Hotaru says. “You know, with the rest of our crew money.”

Natsume rolls his eyes, though with a sense of triumph she notices him wince at her words.

“You see then why I don’t have the money to buy the flat next to ours,” he says.

“I’ll take a job. Something nice and flashy,” Hotaru offers. “Come on, there must be something you’ve decided against that you can dump onto me. This is a simple trade, Hyuuga: You get to send me on a garbage mission no one else is willing to do. I get to use the money we make to buy another apartment and use it as a work space. It’s a win-win scenario.”

Natsume blinks. “When did you get so desperate?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hotaru says sarcastically. “Probably around the time someone decided to crap all over my laptop.”

They both turn to stare at Mrs. Rogers, who makes a caw sound before flying up to sit on Luca’s shoulder, half hidden behind his blond hair. Her owner grimaces.

“I did tell you to cover up your stuff if you’re not around,” Luca says. “And I also apologized. Like, fifteen times. Today.”

Hotaru rolls her eyes at him before turning back to the Black Cat. “Look, my reasons don’t matter,” she says. “You need an inventor and I can’t fulfill that role properly until you give me space I can actually work in.”

Natsume folds his arms. He looks less than happy about her demand. “Doing extra missions isn’t an option,” he says.

“Well, why not?,” Hotaru asks. “I’m offering to do them. I can handle danger and without proper equipment, that danger’s only going to get a lot worse for all of us anyway.”

“I get that,” Natsume says tightly. His demeanor changes as he squares his shoulders and narrows his red eyes ever so slightly. This is no longer a friendly discussion, she can tell. “But Imai, I don’t have the money to pay for that flat. And as for the missions you’re volunteering for, I decided against doing them for a reason. They’re not worth the risk. I won’t jeopardize this crew. Not for money and not for you.”

Not for her. Of course. With a sigh, Hotaru drowns the rest of her wine. Again and again, she finds that the Black Cat and her have similar end goals but very different opinions on how to reach them. Normally she would continue arguing but in this case she can tell that any further push on her part would only strengthen Natsume Hyuuga’s resolve. Promises of weapons and handy gadgets are apparently not attractive enough for him to take a risk on an operative, even if it’s just his newest one.

“Pity about that exploding pen I was going to build you,” she says casually. Years of spy training are the only reason she’s able to keep the frustration out of her voice. “See you tomorrow. I’m turning in for the night.”

Hotaru leaves her two companions behind, retreating to her room on the far side of the apartment. Once the door is shut behind her, she balls her hand into a fist and punches her pillow, once, twice, a third time. Only then does the anger licking at her throat subside a bit and give way to exhaustion. She drops down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with a furrowed brow. Six months she’s worked with the Black Cat, but still he’s unwilling to trust her enough to take a few risks. If she wants to go on a more dangerous mission to earn a larger sum of money, who is he to try and stop her? And who is he to doubt her, to think that she hasn’t calculated the risks and rewards of her plan, hasn’t made sure that no harm will come to Nova?

It’s yet another reminder that Hotaru is still an outsider, much like she’s always been.

She blinks up at the ceiling, able to trace every inch of the plan she pinned onto the wall above the bed despite the room’s darkness. She’s working on an intricate fabric, more than five times as strong as the gear they’re using right now, and able to deflect most bullets. The delicate mesh is no weapon but a shield, one that will keep Nova’s agents out of harm’s way. If only she could convince Hyuuga of its merits, make him realize that the money he gives her is money well spent. Perhaps then the suit she’s working on would be finished and the dreams that plague her would disappear. Perhaps she’d no longer wake up wondering whether today is the day she dies, or even worse, whether today is the day Mikan dies.

But the fabric is impossible to make without a proper workbench and bigger tools and as such, it will have to wait.

Closing her eyes again, Hotaru turns to press her nose into her pillow. Yesterday she’d spent the night with Nogi, and the satin under her skin still smells softly of the cologne he was wearing. They’d come from a reconnaissance operation, his hair still tousled from running, and something inside her had quaked at the thought of doing anything other than kiss him.

So she had done just that.

Right here, in this room, in this bed in fact. She’d straddled his hips with her legs, feeling every inch of him beneath her as she pushed him deeper into the mattress, gazing down at his flushed face from above. He’s always blushing, Hotaru remembers thinking, strangely fascinated by the fact that everything he felt was immediately on display.

Sex is always fun for Hotaru. It’s a way to see anatomy in action, similar to watching her inventions do their job. The way muscle moves beneath skin, the way bodies fit together, the way nerves respond if she strokes them just right - The grip of his hands on her hips and the way she moved against him and he moved against her, their breathing labored as it had been when they ran from their pursuers but at the same time labored in a different way, another kind of fight, a primal kind of combat.

After, Luca had almost fallen asleep next to her, curled up on her covers, but Hotaru kicked him out as soon as she saw his eyes fall shut. He stole a kiss from her before leaving, a fast but heated one, something he always does when they sleep together. It’s almost too intimate every time, but she can never quite tell him to stop. In the end, it doesn’t matter. Even if he takes liberties now and then, she controls this little battle of theirs and they both know it.

Hotaru concentrates on relaxing her breathing, allowing the memories of their night together to once more fill her mind. Hopefully thoughts of more enjoyable times will chase away the fear that gnaws at her, the knowledge that one day their lack of money will result in one of them laying on her lap, gasping for breath as they slowly bleed out. Hopefully images of death won’t haunt her again.

Somehow, she doubts it.

Apartment 2B, Tokyo / April 4th, 8am

They’re sitting around the kitchen table the next morning when Natsume announces they’re going to have an impromptu meeting.

Hotaru is sipping her coffee, idly listening as Mikan recounts her mission from the previous night. Tsubasa is sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper with Misaki’s outstretched legs on his lap. Luca is in the process of making pancakes. He turns around at his best friend’s declaration, wearing a quiet smile on his lips.

“What are we discussing?,” Hotaru asks suspiciously. Is the Black Cat going to kick her out because she asked for more money?

Natsume grunts instead of answering. Luca turns to her.

“There’s a mission that we’re perfectly suited for, I think,” he says. “But we still have to vote on whether or not to take the job.”

This is another one of Nova’s oddities: Although Natsume choses which jobs might be suited for them, every member of the crew can veto an operation. It’s a democratic system, Mikan explained to her once. It’s also a hassle every time.

Luca dumps the finished pancake onto a plate and places them on the table. Tsubasa peeks over his newspaper.

“Breakfast done?,” he asks. Luca nods.

With a grin, the dark haired man gets up, unceremoniously dumping his girlfriend’s legs onto the floor. He sits down opposite Hotaru, Misaki following close behind. Once they’re all seated, Luca vanishes for a few moments before returning with a file. Generally, Hotaru would prefer technology over old school materials, but even she has to admit that hackable objects aren’t the best place for sensitive data. Natsume takes the folder from his friend and tosses it on the table.

“Client’s name is Yuki Arakawa, twenty-three years old, born in Nagoya. Met and fell in love with an investment banker by the name of Ichida Seiji when they were both twenty. Their relationship was reportedly great and so they decided to ruin it by getting married as soon as possible. They got themselves a team of event planners and ended up renting D-Lounge, over in Shibuya. Their grand day was looking to be perfect.”

Natsume pulls a picture out of the folder, showing it to the group. On it, a young woman grins widely into the camera, showing off an impressive diamond ring. A man is standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist.

“What happened?,” Mikan asks softly. Natsume sighs.

“On their wedding day, a year ago now, Ichida suffered what officials say was a heart-attack. He made it through the ceremony, exchanged vows with his new wife and then collapsed on the dance floor. Medical examiner says the excitement of the day was literally...heart-stopping.”

“It’s not an uncommon cause of death,” Luca notes. “But autopsy reports do show that there was a foreign substance in his blood. When Yuki Arakawa asked the police about that though, they told her that her husband probably just tried to dampen his own nervosity by indulging in some….ah….illegal substances, so to speak.”

“Did he?,” Hotaru asks. A young, overly excited man taking drugs doesn’t seem too strange a story. Luca shrugs.

“It’s hard to say from the medical report,” he says.

“What matters to us,” Natsume interjects. “Is that his widow doesn’t believe the police’s story. She hired a private investigator to dig into the whole thing. And lo and behold, they found something.”

Luca leans back in his chair. With a quick glance at the folder in front of them, he continues.

“Turns out that Himawari Events Management, the company they hired to plan their wedding, have had a number of dead clients in the past two years or so. There’s been a handful of freak accidents, grooms or brides crushed by falling chandeliers, and a couple of strokes and heart attacks. Suffice to say, the whole thing is more than fishy. But when Yuki told the police as much, they send her away. Next day, a couple of goons cornered her on her way back from the cemetery, roughed her up pretty bad. They told her to keep her nose out of her husband’s case.”

“I’m guessing she didn’t,” Tsubasa comments, taking a bite out of his pancake. He leans forward to pick up the picture of the couple, looking at it from up close. “So someone’s making a game out of killing people on their wedding day? Jesus.”

“Presumably,” Natsume confirms. “What Yuki Arakawa expects us to do is find whoever killed her husband and… bring them to justice. She’s wealthy and the job comes with a nicely sized payment. However…”

“However,” Luca picks up where he left off, “This kind of mission would necessitate us going in undercover, scoping out the event planners. Our best shot is booking a wedding of our own and making sure to find the killer before one of us ends up dead.”

Mikan gnaws on her lip thoughtfully. “Natsume and I are pretty well known, as far as operatives go. And you said Yuki Arakawa suspects the murderer has ties to the police. If we show up looking to plan a wedding and they run any kind of background check, we’ll be in serious trouble.”

“Same goes for Tobita or Shouda,” Tsubasa adds. “They have their own cover identities to protect. We can’t exactly send them to find a killer who’s in league with the cops. As for me...” He glances at his leg, where Hotaru knows layers of bandages are hidden under the fabric of his jeans. “I’d volunteer, but I’m still not exactly in top shape.”

“Which is why I didn’t want to take on this job,” Natsume mutters. Hotaru can’t help but stare at him as surprise wells up from within her. So he’s given me one of the jobs he initially refused, she thinks, blinking in disbelief before composing herself.

“If Mikan and Natsume can’t go because their covers were blown months ago,” she muses out loud, “and Sumire and Yuu can’t go because their current identities are too precious to waste on this mission, then our only option is to send in people whose faces won’t get flagged by the cops and whose identity as agents is unknown to them.”

Luca inclines his head, quietly agreeing with her.

“Your cover is intact,” he says. “So is mine. We can go in as a couple, set up a wedding in the next two weeks and keep an eye out for anything that looks suspicious.”

Hotaru finds herself nodding along. “Mikan and the rest can do an in-depth check from here, hack into the company’s business servers. The two of us -”

“Go in as bait,” Luca finishes. “I’m sure the client is willing to fund our wedding if it means she gets her husband’s killer.”

“And all we have to do is go dress shopping and show up on the big day,” Hotaru muses. It’s certainly a step up from getting shot at and crawling through drainage pipes.

A small smile makes its way onto her face. It works, this plan. They’re the right age for marriage and have certainly kissed enough times to sell the whole ‘young couple in love’ thing.

“Won’t two people getting married on such short notice seem weird though?,” Misaki asks. “I mean, I get that there’s shotgun weddings and all that but…Pretending you’re that into each other seems difficult. ”

Hotaru snorts. Getting Natsume Hyuuga to give her this mission was difficult. Surviving up to this point was difficult. Hell, even cleaning bird poop off her stuff was difficult. But pretending to be in love? Oh, pretending is something she has practiced for most of her life, something she has always needed to hide her bluntness and general lack of charm.

“I don’t think it’ll be an issue,” Hotaru says, allowing herself a smug grin.

Apartment 2B - rooftop, Tokyo / April 4th, 10am

After a unanimous vote in favor of accepting the job, Hotaru makes her way up to the roof with a spring in her steps. While it’s certainly true that a job tied to the police will be risky, she’s confident that they’ll have the murderer found and eliminated before any trouble arises. This mission will go wonderfully and it will finally, finally give her the money she needs. She pushes open the door to the roof and steps outside.

With a content sigh, Hotaru walks up to the balustrade and breathes in the fresh morning air. Her victory makes the spring day seem all the more enjoyable. Far below her, the city is bustling with activity, people running to go to jobs of their own, jobs that involve far less death than hers does. Far less excitement, too, she thinks to herself.

Creak.

Hotaru whirls around at the sound and comes face to face with Luca Nogi, his pet raven comfortably perched on his shoulder. His steps must have been silent enough to trick even her expertly trained ears.

“So,” he says. “We found you a job.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Hotaru mutters. “And...thank you, I suppose.”

“You were the one fighting tooth and nail for it,” he reminds her gently. “I did nothing, honestly.”

“Yeah right. Like Hyuuga would ever change his mind just because I asked him to. I can guess that you pushed him to give me what I want, so just accept my honest gratitude while it lasts.”

“I’m guessing I won’t be seeing your honest gratitude all that often, so alright. You’re welcome, Hotaru,” Luca says. He rests his elbows on the balustrade, watching her as she gazes down at the city.

“You must really want some new guns if you’re agreeing to a mission that could blow your cover,” Hotaru comments. He turns his head, a frown on his face.

“Or, you know, I just wanted to help you out,” Luca says slowly.

Hotaru snorts. Yeah right, she thinks. Why else would he defy his best friend for her? It’s not like they aren’t already sleeping together and if there’s one thing she has learned living in a world of spies, it’s that no one does anything without expecting something in return.

“But,” Luca continues, after a short pause. “You are also right about our equipment being bad. And you were right about our budget, too. We’re usually better at keeping it in check, but that’s generally Yuu’s job and he’s not around at the moment. I try to keep an eye on it but...numbers and maths aren’t my strong suit, I’ll admit.”

“Isn’t it Natsume’s job to look after the money?,” Hotaru asks. Luca’s face darkens.

“Natsume has enough on his mind,” he says softly before shaking his head. He reaches out to touch her elbow, turning her gently towards him. “But anyhow, I came up here for a reason.”

“Oh yeah?,” Hotaru says. She has a pretty good idea of what he means by that. Pushing away from the balustrade, she begins walking backwards until she feels the edge of the training mat at her feet.

“We can certainly have a little morning training session. Some close quarter combat. I’ll win, but hey. You get to watch me move.”

This is the part where Luca walks towards her, lets his hands rest on her hip. The part where he kisses her until they tumble onto the mat, their legs wrapping around each other. He wants her, she can tell by the way his pupils dilate ever so slightly and right now, she wants him too, wants to feel the bare skin of the man who is currently helping her get the money she needs. But Luca only blinks at her, his cheeks coloring. He clears his throat.

“As nice as that sounds, I came to ask you a question. I….That is, you….Do you….”

“Do I what,?” Hotaru interjects impatiently. Luca opens his mouth as if to talk, before stopping himself again.

“This isn’t how it’s done,” he mutters, more to himself than to her, before turning around, his blue eyes trailing across the roof.

Hotaru watches him, annoyance rising up within her. Not only isn’t he joining her at the mat, now he can’t even answer her question? She’s about to leave when he seems to find whatever he is looking for. With purposeful steps that make Mrs. Rogers fly up from his shoulder and seek shelter elsewhere, he walks to one of the many tables she’s scattered machinery parts on. He rummages around before grabbing something and turning back towards her.

“My mum did raise me to be a gentleman,” Luca tells her. “Obviously her teachings didn’t always take, I mean she once said to never use violence and to never steal or kill and honestly, now that I think about, she told me not to do any of the things that are now my job, but -”

“Nogi,” Hotaru says icily, interrupting his rambling. “Get to the point.”

“Right,” Luca says. He takes a deep breath and comes closer, until there is little more than a hand length of space between them. Then, he does something that shocks Hotaru.

He gets down on one knee. “Hotaru Imai,” Luca asks, “Will you marry me?”

Out on a rooftop in April, shivering slightly in the cool morning air and wearing yesterday’s hoodie isn’t exactly how Hotaru expected to be asked that particular question.

“This is a job,” she reminds him. “You don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to,” he says. “So, will you marry me?”

The sincerity in his voice merrily skips over all her walls, jumps past all the parts of her mind dedicated to assessing each situation and lands squarely on her heart, making it tighten in her chest. But no, this isn’t, this can’t be sincere. This is part of the act, Hotaru thinks.This is getting into character. She puts on a saucy smile and offers him her hand.

“Why yes, I will” she says, with a brightness that has little to do with the anxiousness she feels.

Luca reaches out, delicately taking her hand in his. His skin feels warm, clammy almost. As though he’s legitimately nervous. With his other hand, he produces the object he picked up from her work table and slides it onto her finger. It’s cool metal, shaped not quite like a ring, more like a hexagon. A steel nut, something meant to hold her screws in place when she fastens multiple pieces of an invention together. She must have left one lying around. Somehow, despite its less than ideal shape, it fits her finger perfectly.

“It fits you,” Luca says, echoing her thoughts. He clears his throat and gets up again, still holding her hand. Then, he lets her go and steps back again. There is a peculiar look on his face, as though he can’t decide whether the metal on her finger makes him happy or sad.

“I guess we’re engaged now,” he says.

“It would seem that way,” Hotaru replies.

With a curt nod, Luca leans forward. His lips brush her cheek, gentle enough to be little more than a feather caressing her skin. Somehow, the touch still manages to make her shiver. Hotaru wonders whether her pupils are as dilated as his were before, whether her desire is clear on her face. It probably isn’t, she thinks. Outwards expressions of emotion were never her thing. But this is acting, after all. She lets herself smile, expecting to see the same expression on Luca’s face as he draws back. Instead, his usually happy eyes are curiously blank.

“Have fun with your morning training,” he tells her, before turning around. The rooftop door falls shut behind him and Hotaru is left alone next to the training mat.

There is a strangeness to the whole situation that she can’t place her finger on. This morning, after realizing that Natsume had given her a mission because Luca pushed him to do so, she’d felt a gratitude towards him that was difficult to put in words. And then he’d agreed to enter into this fake marriage with her, to pursue the killer and finish the mission by her side. Despite her insistence that they not grow attached, he’d done his utmost for her.

She finds herself staring at the improvised ring on her finger. When he first gave it to her, it was still warm from being kept in his palm. Now the metal is cold. Hotaru pulls up her shoulders in an attempt to let the feeling of wrongness slide off her back but it sticks like oil to her skin. Still, she forces herself to smile. The money she needs is so close, she can almost smell it and her brand new fiancé’s behaviour can’t dampen her excitement.

There is however one thing Hotaru can’t help but notice: Somehow, getting engaged to Luca Nogi feels less intimate than all the moments they shared before.

[otherpens]

So Critical Role looks like something I should be aware of, but I know absolutely nothing about D&D or how it works (Is it even a game of D&D? That's how little I know about this). My question to you: should I watch it anyway? Will I be able to keep up with what's happening?

Okay SO I just got into it a few weeks ago myself, and it may seem daunting because the episodes run long but honestly it’s kind of a thing you can run in the background or a tab ‘cause there’s stretches that are math or bathroom breaks etc.

It is D&D, kind of.

It is a group of friends who happen to be voice actors who got together a few years back for one person’s birthday and he said he wanted to try a tabletop RPG. They all enjoyed the one-off campaign so much that they made it a regular thing, playing Pathfinder, which is kind of like an alternative to D&D but shares many common elements.

They then were approached to make it a live streaming feature of a web channel, and decided to make the switch to D&D 5th edition as that brand is just generally more recognizable–however the game they have ended up playing is what they call a “homebrew” version of D&D with some changes made to accommodate the transition and also just what the DM and players prefer. Apparently this has miffed some stricter nerds but as most people don’t fall into that category, screw it, they’re having a blast.

So each player has their character who they have already privately been playing for a year or two in these fun sessions at this point, so at the start of the streaming series they have established some backstory as a group and as individuals, having gone on adventures and become loyal companions and friends (though they certainly don’t always agree or get along!) Some characters come and go on the basis of player availability as it’s live on Thursday evenings when they film and stream it, but these changes are deftly woven into the narrative by the brilliant Dungeon Master, Matt Mercer, who handles setting up the world of the story and populating it with NPCs (non-player characters) who may interact with the played characters to offer information, alliances, conflict, or even just silly fun. The characters and their choices drive what happens, however, and so there are times where Mercer has clearly got A Plan but then the players chose to go do something completely different and he just has to go with that flow and it’s amazing. Apart from rare expressions of baffled surprise or helpless laughter at extreme ridiculousness, Mercer has a hell of a poker face and an uncanny knack for imbuing dozens of different NPC characters with distinct voices, mannerisms, and their own inner lives. Like that alone makes it worth watching.

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!

Every one of these goddamn players is a goddamn master at playing with humour and tragedy in equal measure and their improvisational skills and creativity are stunning. A merry band of misfits and every one of them managing to have moments of being adorable dorks, amazing badasses, frickin dummies, and heartwrenching infants who just need to be held by me and kept safe forever and ever.

I didn’t really know much about the mechanics of D&D when I began watching but they really do explain a lot as they go as well as having some early videos where the DM explains things in a tutorial. Basically each character has stats–numbers of points on a range of high to low which affect parts of their personalities and skill sets. (My terminology is paraphrased here so bear with me.) These numbers may then be modified with basic addition or subtraction by the following: racial qualities - skills/abilities granted on the basis of their species and its culture; class bonuses - basically whatever their chosen “career” is…rogues/thieves have boosted stealth, fighters have better attacks, etc.; as well as modifiers linked to any objects/tools/armour/magic that the character owns or has access to. These modifiers may be physical/practical or abstract/magical, and may add OR subtract. (One character, famously, wears plate armour which gives her a higher protective armour score and a lower stealth score because of all the noise it makes when she moves.)

Then, to add the elements of fate and whimsy to the choices made by characters and in their conflicts and interactions with the world and characters around them, the DM guides players to roll “checks” for abilities when they want to try something, to see if it is a success or failure. They roll from sets of many-sided dice of varying numbers according to a rule set I don’t pretend to even begin to understand but as long as the DM knows, you’re golden. These base numbers given by the dice rolls can then be modified by character stat numbers and their modifying objects/magic, should they choose to use them. Obviously a higher score means a better outcome and lower score may lead to indifferent or even negative consequences. These numbers are interpreted by the DM (who often rolls his own dice and keeps his own notes to determine where his own NPC characters are in reaction to the played characters,) who gives out an explanation of how the character’s attempt panned out, and where it takes them, next. A “critical roll” is where a player rolls the biggest 20-sided die and it lands on either a 1 or a 20–as these are before any moderating scores are added or subtracted they are known as “natural” ones and twenties, and they themselves have a moderating effect when they occur, doubling other points rolled for a more effective and lucky outcome, in the case of a 20. I don’t know what a Nat One does exactly in terms of numbers but safe to say it is never good and sometimes so bad it’s funny unless you’re actually in a dire spot of combat.

Because the characters can actually die. Permanently. Resurrection exists in this world but the rules around it make it HARD and uncertain. One character did die in a battle before the steamed show began and though she was brought back to life it is clear that the event shook the foundations of this character’s life and she’s still struggling with the fallout of that event in several ways. One wrong turn, one moment, one unlucky roll of a dice and nobody, not even the DM, can say “do over”. These are characters they’ve built and played for years as friends and now on a popular show and the emotional attachment is extreme. I won’t spoil anything but the risk is real, and everyone knows it all too well. Which, for me, is part of the excitement and fascination. It’s so well-written, and yet it’s not written, at all. It’s a complex and beautiful and funny and tragic and exciting adventure and it’s solely built on the commitment of these disgustingly-talented friends to a rich and wondrous world and characters they’ve come to love.

Clearly I could talk about it forever so feel free to ask me any more questions you might have! And there’s heaps of spoilers in tags if you wanna stay clear of them so I’ll do my best to keep my responses clear of the magnificent twists and turns.

So YES please give it a try (archived episodes are all on YouTube on the Geek & Sundry channel,) and you’ll totally get what’s going on. Mercer explains things pretty well, for the players and the audience. They jump right in with a new adventure and there’s an intro bit where they narrate character backstories, for the first several episodes.