#it feels lonelier here at home especially when your parents are boring and won’t even bother buying some candy for the kids like damn :/

[roseofcards90]

There’s a sort of loneliness that comes with Halloween now and it’s the reason why I don’t love the holiday as much as I used to before 😔

[dreaming-in-alicante]

First chapter is up!

I have 5 more chapters planned out. It’ll depend on how much work I have with the end of the semester, but I hope to update weekly!

Chapter 1: A research opportunity

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A month ago, Grace had sat shell-shocked in the Institute infirmary in the aftermath of the battle, attempting to process the bloodshed she had witnessed and the fact that Tatiana was dead. Jesse, busy talking to Lucie and her parents, making funeral arrangements, had left Grace alone for a while. It was Christopher Lightwood of all people who had noticed her sitting there frozen, who had walked over and offered an awkward pat on the shoulder. He expressed his sympathies and then, seemingly at a loss for a way to help her feel better, told Grace that she was welcome to come visit the lab at any time if she would like something to do to take her mind off of the circumstances. “You were a great help in figuring the function of the pithos that time,” he’d said before wandering off.

Of course that had been before. Before word of her confession had gotten out. Before her trial by Mortal Sword three weeks ago. The Consul had let Grace off without punishment because she was underage and influenced – manipulated – by her mother. No, not mother, Tatiana. You were never a daughter to her, Grace reminded herself. She bought you, you were only ever a weapon that she wielded.

Now that Tatiana was gone and Jesse was restored to life, Grace found herself adrift. Word spread quickly amongst the Clave about what she’d done: the misery she had inflicted on James and by extension Cordelia; her use of demon-gifted power to influence and seduce numerous men – including the Consul’s own son; her involvement in necromancy. She knew plenty of Shadowhunters would happily see her spend time imprisoned in the Silent City. She had made so many apologies that she had quite lost track, but it was not enough – might never be enough. She was still technically part of the Clave, yet no one seemed to know what to do with her. She was even invited to a party last week where everyone had given her a wide berth; a perfect example of how she remained part of things, but was held at a distance.

Grace had spent weeks alone in the apartment Jesse had found for them, reading like she had always done. Now that Jesse was not a ghost, he was no longer her constant companion. He was alive again, out making friends and experiencing the world anew. He had started training and was visiting all the sights of London with Lucie. It was everything Grace had wished for him for years, except now she found herself even lonelier than before. Jesse had invited her along to everything but it was awkward to be around even Lucie.  Despite their shared mission to restore Jesse to life and her newfound relationship with Jesse, Lucie was struggling to forgive Grace for her part in James and Cordelia’s suffering. After all, it was Lucie’s own brother and her future parabatai that Grace had hurt. So Grace continued a nearly isolated existence, most days only seeing Jesse briefly in the morning and evenings.

It was the boredom and loneliness that had finally driven Grace to make a call on the Consul’s house at Grosvenor Square. She had overheard Lucie telling Jesse that Christopher was hard at work on something and spending nearly every weekday in the lab there. Surely Christopher should despise Grace after the way she had hurt his friends. Yet he had offered a small wave and smile at the party several days ago when they passed each other near the refreshments. His small gesture and her desperate state had been enough for her to gather her courage and venture out today.

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 Grace stifled a sneeze as she descended the steps into the laboratory. A smoky haze hung in the air and it smelled like… gunpowder? What on earth had Christopher been doing? She paused uncertainly and nearly turned in retreat before steeling her nerve and continuing down.

Grace reached the bottom of the stairs and peered around the lab. “Christopher?” she called tentatively. “Are you working down here?”

A messy head of brown hair, darkened by – was it gunpowder? – shot up from behind the lab bench on the far side of the room. Christopher pushed rounded goggles up onto his head as he strode over to her.  “Grace! How nice to see you again!” he greeted her. His skin and once-white shirt were also covered in a fine layer of dark dust. “I suppose I saw you a few days ago at the party but you weren’t there long were you? Jesse said you weren’t feeling well. I heard there was a cold going around, is that what you had? Are you feeling better now?” he asked kindly.

Grace hadn’t felt well at the party, but it had nothing to do with illness and everything to do with the fact that Jesse was the single truly friendly face in that enormous ballroom. Lucie had awkwardly engaged her in stilted conversation before being whisked off to the dance floor by Jesse. After half an hour hovering on the outskirts of the room Grace could simply not endure the suspicious glances from the other guests, and she fled back home. “No, I wasn’t feeling well, but I feel much better now,” she told him simply.

“That’s good to hear!” Christopher said earnestly. “It’s never fun being sick. I detest the medicine my mother makes me take for coughs. That’s actually a project I’d like to pursue at some point, to see if medicine can be flavored but still retain its potency. I think if one could take some fruit, for example, and isolate the components of the fruit – molecules they’re called – that cause the specific taste and – ” he cut himself off abruptly. “My apologies Grace, you obviously came here for a reason and here I am boring you. Did you need help with something?” he asked, looking at her expectantly.

Grace thought she could cry for the sense of normalcy in the conversation and the kindness in his gaze. It was the complete opposite of the stiff, clipped exchanges and distrustful stares she had received since her trial by the Mortal Sword. Jesse was there for support of course, but he also faced distrust – returning from the dead through necromancy tended to make people wary. So to have Christopher – one of the ‘Merry Thieves’ no less – act like nothing at all was wrong, it was a relief.

She would have told Christopher to keep talking about the cough medicine and molecules – the idea sounded quite fascinating – but he had asked her a question. “I…I came to take you up on your offer to help in the laboratory. That is, if you’re sure you still want my help” she said hesitantly, clasping her hands together. “I know you offered weeks ago and I understand if you would prefer me to stay away now that you’ve heard the full story of everything I’ve done…” she trailed off uncertainly.

Christopher blinked at her for a moment, seemingly in shock, before his face split in a wide grin. “Really? You’d like to work here in the lab? No one besides Henry has ever been interested!” He paused thoughtfully, adjusting his glasses. “Well, Thomas does often help but I believe he feels obligated as my cousin. It’s not that he has any deep fascination with science and invention. Although he did make the cure for the Mandikhor poison! But I don’t think he enjoyed the process.” He frowned. “I suppose solving the puzzle of a complicated antidote is much more stressful when people are about to die,” he concluded.

“So, you’re sure you would still like having me around?” Grace asked, tense. “After the pain I caused your friends, I understand if you don’t want my assistance.”

“Of course I’d like you to help!” Christopher replied excitedly. “Having another pair of hands is always useful, and you actually want to be here! As for everything with James and such,” he said seriously, “you apologized didn’t you? And I’m sure you won’t do it again if you feel so badly about it now.”

Grace was astounded. “I did apologize and no, I don’t plan to manipulate anyone in that way again,” she managed to say. “I couldn’t even if I wished to,” she added, “the Silent Brothers found a way to remove my power.” That ritual, performed two weeks by Broth Enoch, had made her ill. She spent the better part of a day asleep, and still felt exhausted the day afterward.

“Then it’s all settled!” Christopher proclaimed brightly. “Let’s see, there’s a space on the benchtop over here where you can work, I have some of my notes there now but I can clean those up, put them over with…” He scurried over to a bench on the left of the room and began tidying it, muttering to himself.

Grace followed slowly after him, still in some disbelief. Yes, she had traveled all the way over to the lab and hoped his offer to join him in the lab still stood. However, she had prepared herself to be brushed off. Had expected Christopher to distrust her now that he knew all of her questionable actions, the ways she had hurt his friends and cousins. Technically she also was, or had been, his cousin by adoption; for some reason she brushed the thought of it away. They weren’t actually related. Especially now that she had reclaimed the Cartwright surname, distancing herself from Tatiana.

“There!” Christopher announced, pulling Grace out of her thoughts. He had cleared the bench of papers and bottles and beakers, and brushed off a layer of dust. “This can be your work station,” he told her. “I’ll find you a notebook to record your findings in, and you can work with me on some projects! Or do you have any ideas or projects of your own you’d like to pursue?” he inquired.

“I read many books growing up, many containing scientific information, so I know some basic principles,” Grace said. “However, I fear that much of the information is decades out of , and I'm sure there are many advancements I have not learned of,” she confessed. “Perhaps you can tell me what you’re working on? Were you doing some experiment involving gun powder just now?”

“Indeed I was!” Christopher replied with a gleam in his eye. “For a years now I’ve been trying to adapt incendiary weapons for use against demons. Angelic runes prevent the gunpowder from igniting somehow, and unless runes are involved the demons can’t be harmed.” He gestured her over to the far side of the room where a couple of guns laid on the table, one partly disassembled, as well as a small grenade.

“You made the runed revolver for James, didn’t you?” she asked, trailing a finger over the rune inscribed on the barrel of the rifle laid out on the bench.

“I did,” Christopher replied. “The problem is, James is the only one who can use it. Something to do with his shadow powers. Even Lucie can’t make it work. Quite confounding.” He held up a very familiar object – the pithos that Belial had used to steal marks. “I’ve been testing different rune placements with this,” he said, “because I thought perhaps an indirect application would make a difference. I’ve tried inscribing inside and outside on different parts. I also have a collection of gunpowder that I put in this runed box.” He gestured with the pithos to a small cubic container, every side plastered with a variety of runes. “The gun still fires – that’s what I was testing before you came in. No telling whether it will have any effect on a demon though,” he said, “It depends on how the runes transfer energy, which is an area no one fully understands yet.” He paused uncertainly, and set the pithos back on the benchtop. “I know you said you’d like to learn, Grace, but I’m not boring you am I?” he asked, sounding troubled.

“No, not at all,” she said quickly, turning her attention away from the disassembled handgun she’d been inspecting to his face. “Truly, it’s fascinating. I enjoy learning and you do a wonderful job of explaining things.”

“Oh,” said Christopher, turning faintly pink at the compliment. “Well, jolly good then. Besides Henry, people never really want to hear details,” he confided.

Grace thought briefly that perhaps Tatiana had been right when she called the Clave a pack of fools. Was there genuinely no one besides Henry Fairchild who appreciated the extent of Christopher’s scientific work? Not even his friends? “How about this?” she said, turning fully to face him. “I promise that if I ever want you to stop talking I’ll tell you directly, but otherwise, I wish to hear every detail. Here, we can shake on it.” She extended her hand between them and asked, “Deal?”

Christopher looked bewildered for a moment, blinked, then took her hand and shook it. His strange violet eyes shone as they met hers and he said, “Deal.”

[purrincess-chat]

Quaranteen Hearts CH1

I’m early. That never happens, but hey, it’s Adrinette April somewhere! And I started this thing up because I’m a tool who can’t go outside. I hope you’re all doing well during this quarantine, and if not then hopefully this little amount of Adrinette fluff makes it a tad bit more bearable. We will get through this together!

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

“As cases of Covid19 continue to climb across Europe, France has no choice but to close its boarders. Officials are ordering all citizens to stay in their homes for the next 15 days and practice social distancing to prevent the spread of…”

The TV droned on in the background as Adrien stared up at his ceiling. His worst nightmare had come to life, and it wasn’t even because of an akuma. This was real life. There was no magical cure that could fix this. He was stuck in lockdown. Again. And his father refused to budge.

Sure, they had enough food and supplies to last them for 6 months, and Adrien should have had everything he needed to stay entertained for as long. Everything, that is, but the one thing he craved more than anything: human interaction.

There was Nathalie, but she was too busy rearranging his father’s schedule and organizing his school assignments and private lessons to chat. And Gorilla wasn’t exactly the talkative type. He could talk to Plagg around mouthfuls of cheese, but there was only so much you could talk about with an ancient, tiny god of destruction. Especially when all he wanted to talk about was cheese.

He’d already topped his high scores on all of his arcade machines again, and his basketball score board had maxed out 20 layups ago. His online schoolwork had only taken him an hour, and his father dismissed most of the cooking staff, so he couldn’t even order a snack. Earlier, he tried going out in the garden, but his father had alarms on all of the doors in case he tried to go out. It was so unfair!

Just when he finally felt like he was getting a taste of freedom, and everything in his life was looking up, boom. Here comes a global pandemic to push him right back behind closed doors. Back to square one. He’d be lucky if his father ever let him outside again after this. All he wanted to do was see his friends, but this stupid virus meant that even if they could see each other, they’d have to keep their distance. He hated this!

“Look on the bright side,” Plagg said, floating over lazily. “Now you have plenty of time to help me age my cheese.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s really a bright side, Plagg,” Adrien sighed, lifting and dropping a pillow onto his face. “I just want to see my friends.”

“We could sneak out Chat Noir style,” Plagg offered.

“It’s a global pandemic, Plagg. Going out could expose me to the virus, and I really don’t want to have to explain to my father how I caught it under his lockdown,” he said, voice muffled by the pillow. “I think I should just resign myself to die of boredom and loneliness.”

“Just because you can’t see your friends in person, doesn’t mean you can’t still see them. Why don’t you try calling one of them with that video thing on the computer?” Plagg said before stuffing a wedge of Camembert in his mouth.

Adrien shot up with a gasp, “Plagg, that’s genius! I can just Skype my friends!”

“You’re welcome,” his kwami mumbled before swallowing as Adrien jumped up and slid into his computer chair.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Adrien said, tapping his fingers until Nino answered. “Nino!”

“Yo, what’s good, dude? How is quarantine?” Nino asked with a grin.

“Terrible. I hate it,” Adrien said, leaning against his fist. “I feel like I’m suffocating.”

“But, dude, your room is so epic. There’s a ton of stuff to do,” Nino chuckled, but Adrien leaned back with a groan.

“Yeah, but I do all this stuff every day. It gets old,” he said. “I wanna see people.”

“Sorry, bro. I know you can’t stand being cooped up, but 15 days is gonna be over before ya know it, and you can always call your best bud,” Nino said, flashing two finger guns.

“Thanks. You’re the best. Hey, do you wanna link up and play-”

“Nino!” Chris’s voice sounded and he appeared in the doorway behind Nino. “I wanna play with my Grobotech, but I need someone to be the puny hero that gets destroyed.”

“Can’t you just play both roles?” Nino asked. “I’m talking to Adrien.”

“But I can’t be both because it’s no fun if I destroy myself!” Chris insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sorry, little dude. Maybe in a little while,” Nino said, patting his head, but Chris turned back toward the hall.

“Moooom! Nino won’t play with me!” He shouted, and Nino turned back to Adrien with a sigh.

“I better go. Sorry, bro. We can chat later after Chris goes to bed,” he said with a wince.

“No worries. Thanks anyway, Nino,” Adrien said, waving before the screen went dark, and he leaned back in his chair. “Maybe Alya will be free.”

He clicked her name along his sidebar and waited while it rang. She answered almost immediately which he took as a good sign until he appeared on screen with her two little sisters climbing over her lap.

“It’s mine!”

“No, it’s mine!”

“Hey, there,” Adrien said cautiously. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

“A little,” Alya said, rolling her eyes. “We’re all going a little stir crazy around here, and Mom doesn’t want them going to the park because they don’t understand what social distancing means.”

“It’s my turn!”

“I guess I’ll let you get back to them,” he said, leaning against his fist in defeat.

“Sorry,” Alya said. “But, hey, if you want someone to talk to, Marinette doesn’t have any siblings, and I bet she’d appreciate a call.”

“Marinette…Yeah, thanks, Alya!” Adrien perked up.

“Bye!” Alya waved.

“You already had a turn!”

Adrien clicked the x and immediately scrolled down to Marinette’s name. Alya was right. Marinette was perfect. The bakery was closed, and Marinette was an only child. No siblings to interrupt. Plus, he always wanted to talk to her. Marinette was just who he needed.

“H-Hello?” Marinette blinked when her face appeared.

“Marinette! Hey, what are you up to? Are you free right now?” Adrien asked but decided he seemed a little too eager, so he toned it back. “I’m bored, so I was hoping to chat with someone.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m just- I’m not doing anything important,” she said, setting her knitting needles aside. “I can totally chat!”

“Awesome! What are you working on?” He asked.

“Well, I finished all of our schoolwork last night-”

“Same.”

“-so this morning I’ve just been knitting everyone’s Christmas gifts. Look, I made Max and Markov matching sweaters,” she said, holding them up then deflating. “It’s good to catch up on everything, but I’m running out of craft projects.”

“Yeah, I beat my high score on Extreme Racer 3 like five times now,” he said, shoulders slumping. “I miss hanging out with everyone. My father is adamant that I don’t leave the house for anything.”

“Not even out in the yard?” Marinette asked.

“He yelled at me for trying to go out into the garden earlier,” Adrien said, pursing his lips. “I swear he’s convinced it’s just floating in the air.”

“Sorry. I know how hard it is for you being locked up, but hey, at least we can still talk,” Marinette offered, and a smile curled on his lips.

“Yeah, and I’m really grateful for that,” he said. “I just wish I could see you in person, but Skype will have to do for now.”

Marinette pursed her lips then perked up and said, “Wait, do you have the new Animal Crossing?”

“Uh, yeah, my father got me the Switch that goes with it too,” he said, rolling over to retrieve it from his bed and holding it up.

“Why don’t we link up? It’s not exactly hanging out in person, but it’s close,” she said with a shrug.

“That’s a great idea! I can show you the tarantula I caught last night,” he said, booting it up.

“Ugh, I never see them coming! I keep getting bit by them,” she groaned. “They’re so scary.”

Adrien smiled up at her as she opened her gate for him, feeling the tension in his shoulders fade. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but his walls seemed a little less narrow now, so for that, he was grateful.

“Hey, Marinette?” He said, and she glanced up, eyebrows raising. “Thanks. It’s really hard for me being alone, so this quarantine is my absolute worst nightmare. I really appreciate being able to talk to someone.”

Her face softened in that token Marinette way that told him she understood. “You can call me whenever you want. It’s just me and my parents here, and if you ever need someone, just call, okay? We can ride out this quarantine together.”

“I will. Thank you,” he said, relief flooding over him. “Now, check out my tarantula!”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to ease his boredom, and more importantly, enough to make him feel like everything was going to be okay.

[excaliefur]

Maybe it is meant to be

Woah ok, first time writing in a l o n g time.

Don’t judge too hard I have no clue what this is. 

Also side note: Story is changing a lot I changed a lot of elements after I finished writing this so just take whatever written here as a temporary thing.

TW: Suicide thoughts, brief mention of death and death from suicide. mention of alcoholism. if there are anymore ask me to tag. 

Word: 2405

Not edited, just reread a couple times.

Cold. Cold and bitter, that was the best way he could have described it. The wind howled in his ear and slapped his face and exposed skin. It hurt,  hurt like mad, the wind felt like thousands of sharp steely knives stabbing him at 100 miles per hour. He didn’t care. Stab away, he thought. He watched the cars and trucks honking and yelling and crying at each other below him. His legs dangling carelessly off the edge. All that noise for something so menial, they’d all reach home eventually, and it didn’t matter if one car was driving too slow,  it’d pick up speed eventually. The traffic noise grew quieter as he stared up at the stars. Glittering brightly, the stars were always a constant in his life. No matter what happened, no matter how many times he had to move or change lives entirely or if he was deep in the city or far away from civilization on a farm. The stars always watched over him. 

His father left each day, nobody knew which one would be his last. His mother grew pale every time she heard of an accident on the news, he would watch as she grabbed a bottle to calm herself. He stayed up all night, listening to her soft crying as she waited with bated breath, praying that the noises she heard were his father returning home. The door opened and light spread in the living room. The door always opened. He could hear his mother run out and give a tight hug to his father. He could hear the sobbing from both ends. One day his luck will run out though, and the door won’t open again. 

Opening his eyes, he looked at his grimy hands. The nails were long and sharp, and his hands were covered in small cuts and bruises. Manual labor takes a toll on the body, especially since he was too young when he started out. Wiping his hand on his tight jeans, he let out a short laugh. What did he do to deserve this life? He had nothing but an alcoholic mother, a father who was a ticking time bomb, and the stars. He knew he was lucky to have parents at all. School was nothing but a drag, his classmates ignored him, his teachers ignored him, they all knew he wouldn’t graduate and gave up on him before he could prove himself. The loneliness was killing him. His voice scratchy from barely being used, his hair messy and long, it took too much effort and money to cut it. 

He shivered, the thin jacket he was wearing did nothing to block the wind. Sitting up, he held his legs close to him, trying to maintain a little heat. Why was he even trying? What was the purpose? He didn’t know and he didn’t care anymore. Everyone gave up on him, why didn’t he give up on himself yet? The 15 year old boy shook his head, it was too cold. The noise from the cars grew even quieter as he stared at the flashing lights and sirens. Maybe he should do it, it would end his suffering quicker, and nobody would miss him, god knows if his parents even realise he’s alive. The concrete below him looked so inviting. If he could just, push himself-

“Hey” came a voice from behind. The boy shook, not having realised a girl standing behind him, at the door of the roof. The voice was soft and caring, so different from the voice he was used to hearing. The lack of roughness and quietness calmed him. He sucked in some air before replying. “H-hey” he said, his voice nothing more than a whisper. He coughed quietly. His voice had become deeper and he didn’t even realise it. 

“Mind if I join you?” That caught him off guard. Why was she here? He stared blankly at her as she slowly stepped forward. She could see the reluctance on his face. He began to shift backwards as she got closer and she stopped. Putting her hand up she spoke “Woah, ok, I’ll stay here.” He shifted again, but just to position himself in a way to see her clearly. She had brown curls dangling down her face. She sat down slowly, she was clearly trying not to make him uncomfortable, and spoke again “Can I ask what you’re doing up here on a night like this?”

“Came to see the stars” He replied. It wasn’t a lie technically. He just needed to get out of his apartment. She nodded, and looked up. He could hear her breath hitch for a second. “Woah” she whispered, staring at the millions of tiny white lights blinking in and out of vision. “It’s- beautiful” he could hardly hear her speak. The wind still howled in their ears. “Yeah”

“Hey, look, those ones there,” She said, pointing. “They form Orion’s belt. That one’s Alnitak, next to it is Alnilam and the one on that side is Mintaka,” He scanned the sky searching for them. “They form that line, you see?” she informed, pointing at 3 bright stars, brighter than the other ones. He nodded, he could see them now. “I’ve always loved astronomy, never could see stars as clearly as I can right now though” she murmured.

They sat there, staring at the sky, in silence until she broke it again. “Can I ask why you’re up here this late?” it was another murmur, he strained his ears to hear it. He stiffened up. “Like I said, the stars” His voice cracked and his mouth went dry, she wasn’t believing it. “Is it, because of, you know the, the thing” She stuttered, clearly she was uncomfortable. He sighed. “Yeah” He whispered, pulling his knees to his chest and staring at the ground. He could feel tears threatening to fall, praying that she wouldn’t notice. Why did he even care about what she thought of him? They literally just met. 

She interrupted his stream of thoughts as she put her hand on his shoulder. The soft touch made him melt. He’d never felt like this before. “It’s not worth it, trust me please.” she whispered. He glanced up and caught a glimpse of her face. Fixed in a small frown, her hazelnut eyes stared deep into his. He felt a surge of sudden anger, who knows where it came from, certainly not him. He jerked her hand off “How would you know” he spat. Honestly, he didn’t mean it, it just came out. 

She sighed, putting her arm down and kneeling beside him. “I’ve been there, I understand.” His anger came back but more violently this time. He stood up and walked around her, to the other side of the roof. “You don’t understand my situation, you don’t understand anything about me” She stood too, a small fire in her eyes that he hadn’t seen yet. 

“I understand more than you know, and if I truly don’t get you then help me understand. I just want to help” He scoffed. How could she understand this? Who the hell was she even. “I’m serious. I don’t want to watch another life waste away for a fixable problem.” Another? She couldn’t have been more than 15 though. “Have you-” He was cut off. “My brother”. Her voice was sharp, startling him. He softly mouthed a small “oh” She sighed again, turning and walking to sit beside a vent. He stood for a second, before choosing to sit next to her. 

“I’m sorry” he whispered. This was his first conversation with someone his age for a long time and he went and messed it up again. “It’s fine, It was a long time ago and I’ve come to terms with it. I just, don’t want to see anyone go through it again. It hurts people more than you know” She said. He nodded. They sat in silence again, for a few seconds. Till he broke the silence for the first time. 

“Right, we’ve been talking for a long time and I don’t even know your name, what is it?” The bluntness kind of shocked her. He felt like a kid again and blushed, hoping she didn't notice. “Well, I suppose I could ask you the same question.” oh so she was avoiding it, who was this girl? He shook his head tiredly, he couldn’t give her his name, not when he bore a big title with it. Even without the words she seemed to understand as she nodded. 

“Well I can’t just call you roofboy.” she said, he laughed softly “And I can’t just call you stargirl.” he replied. “Touché’. They sat silently with bated breaths, until she giggled softly. He smiled and put his head down, afraid of being seen. Her giggle grew into a laugh which fueled his laugh which fueled her laugh until they were both red and holding their stomachs from pain. It was nice, nice to have laughed so freely and truly, after so long. 

“Well then roofboy, how about we get a name for you?” she said, in a lighthearted tone. He laughed and stood, holding his hand out for her to stand. As she grabbed it and stood he replied, matching her singsong tone “Ok then stargirl, do you have an idea?” She gazed up again, he could almost hear her thinking. 

“I do actually” she replied, softer and more serious this time. “How about, Sirius,” she asked. Sirius, Sirius. That, sounded really nice. It just, fit. He didn’t know how to explain it, it just felt right. Taking his silence as displeasure she stammered “I mean if you don’t like it we can think of another one-” He placed his hand on her shoulder. His eyes locked in with her, and for the first time he could see the fire in her eyes, her willingness to never give up. “I love it”

She sighed, and her shoulders dropped as her mouth curved into a slight smile. “That's good.” For the first time, the boy, Sirius, truly smiled at her. 

“Wait wait wait, we’re not done just yet. I need to think of a name for you first.” He reminded her playfully. She laughed and beckoned for him to continue. His smile dropped into a small frown as he thought. 

His thoughts drifted, from the stars and the moon to the sun and all above. All of it just reminded him of greek mythology. Oh how he loved greek mythology. He spent hours of his youth poring over books and stories and tales in the library. That's it, greek mythology. “How about, Artemis?” he suggested. Her eyes lit up and he could see a small blush on her face which she tried to hide. 

“That's perfect. Thank you” she replied after a moment. Sirius smirked. “No need to thank me, m’lady” he said, exaggerating an accent and bowing before her. “Oh shut up Sirius” She laughed at him, and smacked him slightly. He stood before her again, they were both around the same height, not much of a surprise as Sirius wasn’t a very tall boy. He rubbed his neck awkwardly, as she blushed again. 

“Hey Artemis, It’s nice to meet you.” He said. “It’s nice to meet you too, Sirius” she replied. The honking of the cars below and the bitter wind long forgotten, as they smiled at each other. 

Artemis jumped. “Oh no, what time is it? I’ve probably got to go home soon before my mother notices I’m gone” Sirius frowned. He glanced at the tiny watch he hand strapped around his right hand and raised his eyebrow. “It’s almost midnight woah” he said. 

Artemis gasped “Oh no, she surely noticed by now, I need to go.” Her voice was strong, but Sirius could hear the worry creeping in. She raced towards the door and opened it, the fluorescent lights blinding them momentarily. “Wait before you go- will I see you again?” He asked, speaking without thinking. What kind of question was that? So stupid and cringey he hated it. “If fate allows for it I’ll be here again soon.” she responded. That was an oddly poetic response. He hadn’t expected that. 

She turned to walk down the steps but just before she closed the door she stopped. Opening it up again she asked “Can I ask you something really quick?”

That caught Sirius off guard. “Uh sure, go ahead” he said, not really sure of what was happening. “Why Artemis?” she murmured. “Why did you pick artemis for me?” she clarified.

“Uh, it just, fits, it fits for you.” He replied. What was he supposed to say? That’s just it, it just seemed perfect for her. She nodded, lost in thought. “Yeah, yeah I understand. Thanks.” She said as she began to close the door again. That question actually made him think. Why did she choose Sirius for him? She didn’t seem much like a Harry Potter fan. “Wait- why did you think of Sirius for me?” She paused. Walking back out onto the roof she stared straight up, searching for something. Probably a star. When she found it she beckoned him over. 

Following her outstretched arm, he caught sight of a star, it was tiny, one of the smallest one he could see, but it was incredibly bright. “That star there is called Sirius. I thought it fit for you, because no matter how small or insignificant it seems, it's the brightest star we can see. Nothing will ever compare to it.” she murmured to him. Woah. Ok. This girl is definitely a poet. He stared at it, Sirius huh. Brightest huh. She turned around and walked out. Just before she left she turned to him and smiled. “Until next time. See you soon” and she shut the door. 

Staring at the spot she was standing in he muttered a few words he hadn’t said in a long time. “Goodnight, goodnight, Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.” 

He sighed. Staring back up to the sky. Who was this girl that made him feel like this. Taking one final look at it all, the roof, the traffic below and the stars above, he smiled to himself again, and turned back to his house, back to his prison. However this time it felt a little more free.

_______________________________________________________

Welp that was something

[hopetofantasy]

“Thank you”

Part 1: ‘Soft, sweet lips’

Part 2: “Your turn now” 

A VDS FIC - PART 3 (fluff / little angst)

“Sander... Can I ask you something?” The beach blond boy was sitting at the lake’s edge, illuminated by the upcoming sunrise. He held the usual coffee mug in his hands. A puzzled look appeared on his face. Their relationship was purely focused on teasing Robbe, so they weren’t exactly the conversational buddies. But Jens really needed an outsider’s perspective. 

“Yeah sure, Jens. Something seems to bother you, what is it?”

Damn, he forgot how perceptive Sander could be. Maybe this was a bad idea. Jens didn’t even know how to approach this inner turmoil. But talking to his best friend was out of the question. Robbe would go on about feelings and intentions. He didn’t want to explore those things yet. 

Jens sighed. When he woke up a few minutes earlier, he didn’t expect to be standing here. At that moment, he had felt pure bliss. Last night was one of the best in his life. Everything fell into place: he was the person he was supposed to be. He wanted this feeling to last forever. All wrapped up in love and passion. 

But when he turned over to meet another pair of arms, reality had struck. 

Lucas was gone.

No beautiful boy in the morning light. No blue eyes in the golden hour.

Jens jumped out of bed immediately. Turned around to his scattered clothes, his thoughts already cluttering his mind. Did Lucas dump him? Was this a one time thing? He needed to tell Lucas he liked him. Right now. He felt like a whole person again. Different, but the same. He already started walking towards the other cabin, when he noticed Sander sitting by the lake. 

“I just wanted to know... how- how come you were so sure? About Robbe, I mean? You were together with Britt, like together-together. So how did you... Euhm -”. God, this was hard. Could he ask the question he desperately wanted an answer to?

“How did I know I was in love with a boy, even when I’ve been together a girl?"

Well, he really cut through the bullshit, didn’t he. Jens analyzed Sander’s face, who strangely didn’t seem bothered by the question. He even looked quite amused. “That’s what you’re asking, isn’t it? How did I know I like boys as well as girls?” Jens turned red. “Yes.”

Sander sighed. “Well, I don’t know. Britt and I were together for a couple of months. She was a handful, but never boring. I really liked the spark in her, you know? She challenged me. Only it was too much. But I just didn’t know how unhealthy some parts of our relationship were, until I met Robbe. Did he ever tell you about the time I first met him?” 

Jens shook his head. “Well, no surprise there, he’s very private,” Sander chuckled. “The first time I saw him, Noor took him to spray some garbage trucks. I was there as well with a group of art friends. Then suddenly the moonlight fell through a crack in the ceiling and light up his whole face. 

I was gone for him. Really. Like a sudden rush of feelings. Love at first sight. It scared me at first, but i just couldn’t stop thinking about him. So I kinda... stalked him a bit. Even went to the skatepark to see him. That’s why I said yes to the beach trip, when Britt asked me. To see him.” 

This took Jens by surprise. He never knew Sander went this far for Robbe. He’d always thought they met on the beach trip. He didn’t know when the boys fell in love, but he assumed it happened somewhere between the beach and the break-up with Noor. When he wasn’t being a good friend to Robbe. When he wasn’t there to help him out. The thought made him feel guilty.

“What I’m saying is,” Sander continued. “I don’t know how it happened. It’s just did. I know Robbe is the love of my life and that won’t change. No need for a label. And if you’re wondering if it affects anything: it might cause some reactions, but the most important thing is that you’re always yourself. Out there, finding happiness. Are you happy, Jens?”

Jens shrugged. 

“I guess.” 

Sander snickered and put his hand on Jens’ shoulder. “You’ll be alright. Life is a rollercoaster sometimes, but that’s what makes it worthwhile. Trust me, I know how high or low it may get. Just go along with it, okay? Now, I guess I’m going to wake up a certain sleepyhead we both know so well.”

After that statement, he stood up and walked back to the cabin with the empty cup in his hand. Jens stayed, to stare at the calm lake. He’d tried to find some peace in his feelings. The story was still ringing in his ears. After hearing a slight huff, he turned around to a smirking Sander. His look all knowingly.

“He’ll be worth it, Jens.”

——————————————-

“What are you doing?”

Jens whispered breathless.

The Dutch boy almost gave him a heart attack, creeping up to Jens without any sound and wrapping his entire body around him. Not that he mind the hugging, but they needed to watch out. The boysquad were just a couple of meters away. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to notice anything.

“I’m kidnapping you,” Lucas simply stated. His eyes were filled with mischief. He took his hand and dragged him into a green grove of trees. “I’m going to take you to my favorite spot,” he said deliberately. Jens’ feet almost tripped over a branch, due to all the tugging and pulling. Why was he such a klutz in Lucas’ neighborhood? 

“Lucas, we really need to talk -”

“We can do it later, Jens”, Lucas answered and gave him a quick peck.

Jens was getting very annoyed. He didn’t want to go to this mysterious place. He wanted answers and Lucas listening to him. He hated being so insecure. His life was always in control, or at least put into separate segments to address later. His home, his parents, his friends. One by one. He always searched for a way to deal, without breaking down any barriers. 

Breaking down wasn’t an option. 

"We’re here!”

He’d almost forgot they were going somewhere. Lucas let his hand go and pointed to a small treehouse. It looked really cool. It couldn’t have been big, maybe just enough to fit a couple of small children. The construction was about four meters up. Old yellow paint made the thing seem very eerie and old. 

Lucas was already on his way up and looked down to persuade Jens to climb. The latter one was still contemplating the safety of the wooden ladder. He then shrugged his shoulders and took his chances. 

Inside the tree house, his eyes registered a pillow fort, a laptop and a couple of snacks waiting for them. His mouth fell open in awe. 

“What’s this? A setting for a playdate?” 

His questions were answered by a red flushed Lucas. “I thought it would be  nice to go on a little date. You know, learn more about each other. I wanted it to be relaxing. But if you don’t like it...” Oh no, he seemed to have hit the wrong nerve. Lucas looked hurt, he must have put a lot of effort in this. 

Jens brought his hand to the nape of Lucas’ neck. His other hand lifted his chin so their eyes would meet. “I love it, Lucas,” he said with a huge smile. “I would love to go on a date with you.” His lips slowly traced the soft, pink lips. He really liked this surprising boy. He hoped for more surprises in the future.

He is going to be so much trouble.

——————————————-

“So, am I your first?”

The question came out of nowhere. They were halfway through the movie ‘Romeo + Juliet’, which Jens had never seen before. He wasn’t really a fan of DiCaprio. But he didn’t dare to insult Lucas’ actor crush. Even when he deserved to be teased, since Lucas couldn’t stop comparing Leo to Jens. 

“Yes, you’re my first boy. I’ve been with some girls before. Keisha, Britt, Jana. But never a boy.”

“Well, that’s good. It makes me feel superior. Since I’ve been with a guy before”,  Lucas said jokingly. He should have known Lucas had more experience. Jealousy was already starting to rear his ugly head. Especially when he asked the question: “Who was it?” Did he really needed to know the answer? 

“Well, it was a drunk encounter at some indie rock concert. I was high as a kite, but I really wanted to kiss a guy to prove something. So I met this foreign dude on the way to the toilet. The name didn’t stick with me. Steven... Baeven... I know it ended with ‘Even’ at least. But yeah, we kissed like there was no tomorrow. I guess that was my gay epiphany.” 

Lucas said it in such a casual way, like it didn’t affect him whatsoever. He was gay. Yet, for Jens, it was too hard to say that sentence. To accept himself. He liked girls as well as boys. Bisexual. Jens is bisexual. Why was it so difficult to admit? He knew he accepted Robbe’s sexuality in a heartbeat. 

Suddenly Lucas pulled himself out of Jens’ arms and looked at him with clear determination. He seemed to have read his mind. He probably picked up on Jens’ heartbeat. Or he had developed a sixth sense for internalized homophobia. But he knew Jens was struggling somehow. 

“Jens, I know it seems difficult. It’s okay to doubt what you want. You don’t know everything about yourself. That’s alright. No need to push yourself. But be careful, it’s not healthy to separate your feelings or experiences. If you want to feel, you can feel. 

I just really had a great time with you. If you don’t want to continue this, I understand. For me, our first kiss started with loneliness, but there is still something about you. Something real. You’re different and I like you, okay?”

Jens gasped loudly. The revelation hit him like a truck. He didn’t now what to do with this information and kept on staring into those blue pools filled with love. He felt a burn in his throat. Like a bubble that was about the burst. He didn’t try to stop this heavy feeling, let it completely surround him. 

Lucas sensed what was coming. He put Jens’ head against his chest and gently stroked his hair. 

Jens couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears were welling up in his eyes, until they overflowed onto his red cheeks. Everything started to blur. And then, suddenly, he was sobbing. He wanted to curl up in a ball. Didn’t want to be strong and confident. His heart couldn’t deal anymore. 

So he cried out all his pain. 

His mom and dad fighting. His sister’s sorrow. His inability to do something about it. His guilt of being a bad friend. His loneliness. His insecurity. Him not being who he thought he was. 

Then this boy, who just said it was okay. Who liked him nonetheless. Who knew. Who held him close and made little shushing sounds to calm him down. Who kissed his head. And held him until it was almost over. 

He stayed in the hug, even when it was safe enough to face the world again. And in between the last sob and a hiccup, he softly whispered to Lucas.

“Thank you”

[bpro-cardstories]

Ryuji Korekuni SSR

2019 ー Childhood [Childhood]

“Fufu, Ryuji-kun, your eyes are sparkling. This time, it is for the sake of the children and the project but… I hope it becomes a meaningful job for Ryuji-kun who had a short childhood.”

『 Event: The Wizarding Academy (02nd - 09th October 2019) 』

Part 1

KitaKore and MooNs have a joined charity project together. 

Tsubasa: ‘Everyone, thank you for coming. Since everyone is here I will move on to the main subject.’

Tsubasa: ‘This time several publishers come together for a sponsorship. Daikoku Production has also joined the charity project『 Love for Children 』. Therefore, I thought that KitaKore and MooNs surely would like to participate as well.’

Hikaru: ‘Ooh~! Charity sounds good!! Hm, children you say… Is it a fund-raising for children?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That’s right. You will join the event as ambassadors… I’m thinking about doing marketing at the venue or online, and handle the charity’s goods’ design too.’ 

Hikaru: ‘The goods’ design, huh.’ 

Tatsu: ‘Is it alright if we are in charge? Because …’

He then looks at their leader which fairly surprises the latter. Kazu is not known for having an artistic side... Mika tries to somehow save Kazu’s honor. 

Kazu: ‘Eh? Why are you looking at me, Tatsuhiro?’  

Mika: ‘It’s because leader’s artistic level is too high! We are afraid that we can’t keep up with your skill.’ 

Tatsu: ‘Y-Yeah. That’s true.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, it will be okay. It seems that for the final adjustment a professional designer will lend us his hand.’ 

Ryuji: ‘That’s a relief. So… Tsubasa talking about this, does it mean that things revolving around the event is of Gandara’s responsibility?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That’s right. However, in this situation there are teams that are familiar with this work, so as usual I will be able to support everyone.’

Tomo: ‘That’s a big help. As always, thank you, Tsubasa.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘No, I should be the one, thank you very much! However, there is something I need to tell you first.’

Tsubasa: ‘The truth is I wanted you to choose your role freely. Though, for the advertising or schedule’s reasons there is something that was assigned beforehand, that is said they wish to deal with.’

Ryuji: ‘Fuun. Well, you can’t help it, right? The adults’ reasons can’t be ignored.’

Hikaru: ‘True, you don’t need to worry, Tsubasa-chan ~ ♪ And, and? What’s our part!?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘E-Ehm… MooNs is asked to design goods such as T-shirts or sticker towels.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Oh, that sounds like fun! How about drawing a huge smiley moon symbol in the middle of a shirt?’ 

Tatsu: ‘What’s that. Listen first.’ 

Kazu: ‘A smiling moon, huh? For example, like this…’ 

Hikaru: ‘Eh? A-Ah! That’s close!! Like that!? Perhaps!’ 

Ignoring MooNs’ attempts to not hurt Kazu’s feelings, Ryuji wants to know what KitaKore is in charge of. 

Ryuji: ‘… So, what’s our part, Tsubasa?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Kitakado-san will produce a compilation CD that collects music according to the project’s image. Ryuji-kun is asked to create a picture book for children.’ 

Tomo: ‘It looks like the creative direction varies depending on the group. It seems difficult but worth doing. Right, Ryuji?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yeah… That’s right.’ 

Momo: ‘If Korekuni says so, it looks like to become a success.’

Tomo: ‘Because Ryuji has an excellent sense of colour, the picture book surely will be fun to look at.’  

Ryuji: ‘... I wonder. It seems so.’ 

(Ryuji-kun acts evasive somehow… Is there something worrying him?) __________

(Later when Tsubasa brought Ryuji home.) 

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun, for today too, good work.’

Ryuji: ‘Thanks. You will send the check of today’s shooting, right?’ Tsubasa: ‘Yes, I think, I can send it to you next week.’ 

Ryuji: ‘I see. Ok then, see you tomorrow.’ 

When he is about to go, Ryuji is stopped by Tsubasa who didn’t forget the incident earlier. 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah…’ 

Ryuji: ‘... What is it, Tsubasa?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, no… Uhm, I think if possible I can bring you what looks like useful reference material for the charity’s picture book but do you have an image in mind?’   

Ryuji: ‘Image… Image, huh.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘A colour or a theme, anything is fine.’ 

Ryuji: ‘....’ 

Tsubasa: ‘.... Ryuji-kun, could it be that you are not good with picture books?’ 

Her suggestion catches him off-guard. 

Ryuji: ‘Eh?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Because you were looking visibly depressed during the meeting.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Oh-- …. No, that’s not really the case. Truth is, I have a feeling that I won’t be able to do it the way other people do in creating interesting things. I barely read picture books until now.’

Tsubasa: ‘That’s… Even as a child?’

Ryuji: ‘Yeah. There was a picture book my mother read to me repeatedly but I hardly remember anything else. When I was able to read letters, as a child actor I was holding a script in my hand … I watched more movies than read books, I guess.’

Ryuji: ‘That’s why, I don’t know what picture book makes children happy… There’s not really a focus. For the time being, I think I’ll do a lot of research but it may be quite difficult--’

Part 2

Hikaru: ‘I made it! A huge sand castle ~!’ 

Boy: ‘Woaah-!’ 

Tomo: ‘The meal was really delicious, thank you.’ 

Girl: ‘You are welcome -! 

(Fufu. The children and everyone seem to have fun playing. We came to the kindergarten as part of the project, but it seems like it is also a break for them.) 

Boy: ‘Hey, hey, let’s play shadow-catching?’ 

Girl: ‘Hide-and-seek!’

Ryuji: ‘Eh? Wait, let’s play in turn--’ 

Boy: ‘I said shadow-catching!’ 

Girl: ‘No, hide-and-seek!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Would you listen to me. If each of you is only talking about your own favorite play…’

Girl: ‘Hide-and-seek! Hide-and-seek, hide-and-seek!!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Wait…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Look, you two, they seem to be playing game of tag over there.’ 

Boy: ‘Really!? Yay--’ 

Girl: ‘Ah, wait! I’ll go too!’

Ryuji: ‘Geez… What was that quarrel even about?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu. Children are difficult. Or should I say, their reasons can’t be comprehended...’ 

Ryuji: ‘It seems so. Since I don’t play with small children I honestly don’t know why I should. Haa… I thought I could find the focus of the picture book here but it’s not going too well.’

Tsubasa: ‘Please don’t mind too much, ok? Let’s think about it carefully and without rushing.’ 

Ryuji: ‘But, you can’t say that, am I wrong? After all, we have a deadline…’ 

Ryuji: ‘... Oh?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Eh… What happened?’ 

Ryuji: ‘No, I was wondering if that child over there is fine. It looks to be alone in the corner… Is it playing with building blocks, or rather arranging them in a line…? What should we do.’

Tsubasa: ‘Shall we try to approach the child?’

Ryuji: ‘Yeah…’ __________

Ryuji: ‘Hi, what are you doing there?’

Boy: ‘.... Airplane.’

Ryuji: ‘Eh?’

Boy: ‘The airplane. It will transform into a robot. This is the princess’ pirate.’ 

Ryuji: ‘What’s with the princess and the pirate…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘You think of the building blocks as the airplane or robot.’ 

Ryuji: ‘What about the colourful blocks that are stacked up here?’ 

Boy: ‘Jewels. The pirate is hiding the treasure.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘What a story you have there…!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Fufu, and grand.’

Ryuji: ‘... It’s nostalgic somehow. I used to play like this as well.’

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun as well?’ 

Ryuji: ‘When I was a child actor, the waiting time during the drama shooting was long and boring. At that time, I was playing imagining various things alone. Like, if the candy in the dressing room was a magic candy…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, how cute. What power does the candy have?’ 

Ryuji: ‘I imagined all the places I want to go to. No matter how far, you can go to that place instantly. Though when it melts, you return to reality.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Somehow… It’s similar to The Little Match Girl?’

Tsubasa: ‘A magic candy that makes it possible to go anywhere. Ryuji-kun, doesn’t it sound like a theme for the picture book?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Eh?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I was really excited when I listened to the story just now. As one would expect, it would be lonesome if the story unfolds like the one of The Little Match Girl…’

Ryuji: ‘So… if it’s possible to make the end a Happy Ending, will it also fit into the picture book’s story? If the colourful candies are scattered all over the book, it probably will make the children happy.’

Tsubasa: ‘I think, that is a really good idea!’ 

Ryuji: ‘... Yep, it’s not bad. For now, let’s think about the outline.’ 

Both, especially Ryuji, are pleased to have finally found a theme for the picture book. Next is the realization of the idea.

Part 3

Ryuji: ‘--Tsubasa, do you have a moment? I brought the picture book’s illustrations.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, how fast! Please let me take a look.’ 

Ryuji: ‘It’s more like a rough draft…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Waah, how beautiful! As expected of Ryuji-kun. This colour scheme… It is already perfectly charming. What kind of story is it?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Ehm… It’s a tale that begins when the protagonist obtained a big jar with multicolored candies in a candy shop. Those candies had a mysterious power, and the moment he put one in his mouth, he leapt to an unknown place. At first he was surprised but he quickly realized the candies’ magic and started to travel.’ 

Ryuji: ‘To a tropical island, an amusement park, the universe… Because of the time he was able to go to places he wanted, he became lost in it. Keeping it a secret from his parents, he enjoyed his exciting trips. He sometimes fights with pirates and saves the caught dragons.’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, it is big adventure.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yeah. However… One day he suddenly sensed a feeling of loneliness. Because he is always alone, no matter where he goes, what he does, there is no companion to share his memories with. If only his parents or friends were there it would be a lot more fun…’

Ryuji: ‘Thereupon, he thought about a strategy. What about melting all the remaining candies into one big candy? What if everyone tastes it, wouldn’t he be able to travel together with everyone? Then immediately, he took out the biggest pot at home and rushed to the biggest restaurant in the street. There, he borrowed their stove and melted the leftover candies together… A big big candy of various colours came out.’

Ryuji: ‘He quickly called everyone and have them taste the big candy. And that’s the story of how everyone is able to travel together.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, a Happy Ending! Such a lovely and fun story…! It was not only exciting but also wonderful how the growth of the protagonist was depicted, I think. Rather than enjoying fun things alone, you want to share them with someone. Isn’t this perfect as well for this charity’s intent?’ 

Ryuji: ‘I agree. It’s because I listened to Tsubasa’s talk, thank you.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘You don’t have to…! I’m looking forward to the form of the current story.’

Ryuji: ‘Yeah. But, there is one thing I’m worried about… The image I have in mind for the big candy at the end are Choppa Charos, though isn’t it problem? I’m going to draw it as an ordinary candy on a stick but I think, the shape will be similar after all.’

Tsubasa: ‘Then I will confirm once. Because if you get in trouble later, a wonderful story will be spoiled.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Thanks.’

Part 4

Tsubasa came to KTKR’s apartment to tell Ryuji some good news. He didn’t expect the positive outcome of the talk.

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun, the manufacturer sent a reply. It seems that the Choppa Charos itself can be included in the picture book!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Eh… really?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes! It looks like they liked the book’s contents.’

Ryuji: ‘Heh, I’m happy… A magic Choppa Charos, huh. So something like a candy that turns things into reality exists. It’s really like a dream.’ 

Tomo: ‘Yeah, I can feel the story coming closer. How nice, right, Ryuji.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘And…’ 

Ryuji: ‘Eh? There is more?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes. To be honest, this talk was a start, that manufacturer decided to be a sponsor for the charity project as well.’

Tomo: ‘Hee… As expected, it’s amazing, Ryuji’s impact.’ 

Ryuji: ‘My impact, I don’t know what that means… It’s something good, right?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Of course!! According to the manufacturer, it seems that they are thinking about producing a limited flavour and want to donate the earnings to the charity project. For the event, it is planned to hand it out to the children for free.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘This is what I would like to discuss… Ryuji-kun, would you like to try producing that limited Choppa Charos flavour?’

Ryuji: ‘Eh… Production?’

Tsubasa: ‘That’s right. All together, they want to produce an exciting flavor like the candy that appears in this picture book. And wanted to have Ryuji-kun sounded out on this request.’

Ryuji: ‘No way. Me, producing Choppa Charos…’ 

Tomo: ‘Fufu, but it’s without a doubt reality. And… you surely already decided, right?’

Ryuji: ‘Of course! I can’t possibly miss the chance to be involved in making my favourite candy.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Then I will send them your reply.’ 

Tomo: ‘It seems like Ryuji’s love finally got through. Even during the Bambi period, he always carried it with him.’ 

Ryuji: ‘When I said that, I was a child actor. Because it was my imaginary friend…!’ 

(Fufu, Ryuji-kun, your eyes are sparkling. This time, it is for the sake of the children and the project but… I hope it becomes a meaningful job for Ryuji-kun who had a short childhood.) 

Part 5

Tsubasa: ‘--The new flavour is finally completed.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yep, finally. Because it was decided that the concept was the candy the young boy made at the end of the picture book, I thought it would proceed more smoothly…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘There were all kinds of obstacles when it came to the production of  the goods, after all. You cannot simply mix all flavours.’ 

Ryuji: ‘But, wasn’t it thanks to the manufacturer’s patience with the prototype that, as the name suggests, the candy has a dreamy taste.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘When you put it in your mouth, the flavour changes,『 Magical Dream Flavour』! Fufu, what an exciting name.’

Ryuji: ‘Not only children, adults too can enjoy it. I aimed for a taste that makes you want to share it with someone. I hope everyone can agree with it. For this sake, I have to give my best during the shooting of the poster.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘You are right. This set as well seems to be designed to fit the candy’s image.’ 

Her comment makes him realize how much detail was put into this project.

Ryuji: ‘True. It’s really elaborated.’

Ryuji: ‘But, what is this cloth in the middle….?’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, please take a look.’ 

Ryuji: ‘? Then…’ 

Ryuji: ‘This… A huge objet d’art* of a Choppa Charos!?’

Tsubasa: ‘It seems to be a special order.’

Ryuji: ‘Must be, it’s a first for me seeing something like that! It’s very cute. It really has Magical Dream Flavour written on…!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Say Tsubasa, doesn’t it look edible? If we taste it together, we could go everywhere.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu.’ 

Her chuckle makes him blush, that was too embarrassing just now. 

Ryuji: ‘Eh? ...! Wait, that was too much. I looked like a kid, right.’

Tsubasa: ‘No, I feel the same too. Because it was always my dream to have a big candy or a pool with orange juice!’

Ryuji: ‘.... A pool with orange juice, what’s that?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ehm, did you not long for it? A juice that never diminishes, no matter how much you drink…?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Hee? Tsubasa also has a child-like side.’

Tsubasa: ‘I-I think, everyone has this aspect to them…! Because adults used to be children as well.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Fufu, yeah. That might be true. It’s good to frolic like this once in a while, regardless of your age. Similar to being excited, happy, relaxed, a feeling of happiness….’

Ryuji: ‘If I can make a person feel this much with my picture book and candy, I’m happy.’          

END ________________ *Objet d’art: “literally means ‘art object’ (or work of art) in French, but in practice, the term has long been reserved in English to describe works of art that are not paintings, large or medium-sized sculptures, prints, or drawings. It therefore covers a wide range of works, usually small and three-dimensional, of high quality and finish in areas of the decorative arts [...]” (Source: Wikipedia)

[hiddendreamer67]

“sing me a song please?” Could you please write a platonic Analogical with this?

VIRGIL AND THE BEANSTALK PART 3

Check out more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting! Also you can find links to the previous parts in my reblog.

———————————————————————————————————–

The way Logan was looking at Virgil was…unnerving, especially because Virgil couldn’t figure out what the Giant was thinking.

“Uh, what was that all about?” Virgil figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask. He was surprised when Logan actually answered.

“Patton is quick to form emotional attachments.” Logan explained. “Because of this, he was blind to the last human’s behavior and continues to believe that he is capable of redemption. It seems as though he expects the human to return any day with our belongings and an apology.”

“Oh.” Virgil supposed it was possible, but he was more of a pessimist. He believed the worst in people. Not to mention, this ‘Dee’ guy- if that was even his real name- had already massively screwed Virgil over in sending him here, so Virgil wasn’t exactly his biggest fan.

Virgil tensed, watching Logan get up, and he expected those fingers to wrap around his form at any moment. Yet surprisingly, that wasn’t the case. Logan seemed to pay him no mind as he walked down to the other end of the very long dining table. The giant disappeared through a doorway, and Virgil marveled at the fact he was left alone. This freedom was short-lived, however, when Logan returned. A book in hand, the giant sat down at the far end of the table, setting the large volume down and beginning to read.

Virgil kept a cautious eye on Logan, slowly getting up. Hoping the giant would be preoccupied, Virgil began to creep towards the edge of the table.

“I would advise against that.” Logan’s voice made Virgil jump. Despite the fact Logan didn’t look up from the book, it was clear he was addressing the human. “The fall would likely be fatal.”

One glance over the table proved this assumption was correct. Virgil gulped, quickly taking long strides to get back to the middle of the table. Guess he was stuck up here. Likely for some time, as Virgil was too proud to ask for help and everyone else seemed preoccupied. Of course, none of the giants would likely help him even if Virgil did request a lift to the ground. After all, they all still viewed him as a common thief.

“Sing me a song please.” Logan spoke up a few moments later, the pages rustling as he leafed through his book.

Virgil blanched at the request. “Excuse me?”

“Not you.” Logan rolled his eyes, and quietly Virgil’s ears began to pick up a soft tune coming from the other end of the room. Virgil scanned the area, noticing the source of the noise was a golden harp, sat atop a shelf behind Logan.

“What is that?” Virgil was in awe, traveling closer to Logan’s end of the table. The siren’s call was the most beautiful tune Virgil had ever heard. The harp was decorated with a golden figure, who was enchanted to sing the music that Logan had requested.

“It’s a golden harp.” Logan glanced up from his book, giving Virgil a wary glance as he came closer. “Don’t get any ideas; there’s a reason we put it at such an elevation.”

“Relax, I’m not going to steal your music box.” Virgil put up his hands to show he meant no harm.

Logan looked unconvinced, and even brought his book closer to his person as though concerned that the human would try to take this as well. Virgil sighed, sitting down a ways away from Logan to give the Giant space. He looked up, continuing to watch the harp.

“…it’s magic, isn’t it?” Virgil asked.

“Yes.” Logan’s curt answer confirmed his guess.

“I’ve never seen magic before.” Virgil admitted. “How’s it work?”

“Why do you feel entitled to answers?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “I thought you held no interest in possessing our belongings.”

“Jeez, I was just trying to make conversation.” Virgil frowned, slumping. “I was just curious.”

Virgil didn’t think simple curiosity should be punished. These giants seemed to disagree, but Logan at least looked at him with less contempt than before at this answer. The Giant tilted his head, studying Virgil and seeming to decide he was more intriguing than his novel as he pushed the text to the side.

Logan put his hands together, leaning forwards. The song began to fade out, leaving Virgil with a strange sense of loneliness.

“…what?” Virgil assumed the giant wanted something, shifting uneasily under his gaze.

“Why are you here?” Logan asked suddenly.

“Uh, magic beans?” Virgil thought back to the events of the day before. “What does it matter?”

“That much was to be assumed.” Logan waved off his explanation. “What I meant was, few humans would dare to climb such a plant. You’re either brave or foolish, but either way there must be a motive.”

“I’m neither.” Virgil corrected. “I didn’t climb it at all; my house got thrown into the sky. The beans accidentally got planted beneath my home, I don’t notice, and next day I wake up hundreds of feet in the air.”

“I see.” Logan frowned slightly. “But given the opportunity, would you have climbed the great stalk?”

“Nope.” Virgil shook his head, both because he was honest and because he assumed this was the answer Logan would want. He certainly wasn’t fond of the idea of risking his life climbing a hundred-foot plant.

“Not even at the implication of immeasurable wealth?” Logan gave the human a knowing look as though he had caught Virgil in the act.

“I don’t want your wealth.” Virgil insisted for the hundredth time.

“Everyone wants something.” Logan countered.

“Well, all I want is to go home.” Virgil glared back at the giant. Logan looked unfazed, turning his gaze out towards a large window across the table.

“It appears at the given moment your home is rather in shambles.” Logan observed. Virgil tried to follow his gaze, but he was too short to see the same view outside. Virgil could only assume that’s where the beanstalk had grown and broken his home into several pieces.

“Yeah, well, at least it’s mine.” Virgil muttered, having not really thought of that.

“Were you perhaps referring to a different definition of the word ‘home’?” Logan asked, turning back to Virgil. “Are there individuals waiting for you upon the earth below? Should we be concerned about multiple intruders?”

Virgil’s glare deepened. “…I live alone.” His tone was dark, not particularly fond of the way Logan seemed to imply that if Virgil did have any family they’d only be a nuisance. Then of course there was the fact that Virgil was never fond of discussing his home life.

“I see.” Logan let out an unimpressed hum, quite different from the usual pitying looks Virgil received when he talked about his lack of a family. It would have been refreshing actually if it weren’t so secretly degrading. “In that case, if you have no physical or social home below, why are you intent on returning?”

“At least on Earth everything isn’t freakishly huge.” Virgil spat.

“There is no need to get defensive.” Logan said, and that only made Virgil more furious.

“Yes, there is!” Virgil argued. “I can tell what you’re doing, and I’m not going to play your little mind games. I’m not staying here, and that’s final.”

“Who said anything about staying here?” Logan’s expression was almost confused, but Virgil was still on edge.

“You’re implying it.” Virgil hissed. “Asking about my ties to Earth, as though trying to figure out what I’d be leaving behind. Testing the waters, trying to see if I’ll actually be missed or if you’ll be safe in your kidnapping. ‘Oh, look at the little orphan, the poor little thing. Guess we’ll just keep him here for his own good.’” Virgil knew the type. Even back on the earth below, people were always trying to decide what was best for him, forgetting that Virgil had a voice of his own.

Oh, you poor thing. They would coo. Losing your parents, you must be so devastated.

Yeah, of course he was. But that certainly didn’t mean Virgil wanted strangers coming up to him reminding the boy of the nightmares that haunted him at night. And yet, if Virgil turned them away, he was accused of being an unfeeling monster who didn’t care about the loss of his parents. Of course he had cared. He cared so much that it destroyed him, leaving just the apathetic shell as others now perceived him.

“Well, I refuse.” Virgil continued, focusing on the much larger problems of the present. “Even if I have nowhere else to go, I won’t stay here and be your complicit little lapdog, alright?”

To his surprise, Logan looked almost appalled at the idea. “You have me mistaken for my brothers.” Logan explained. “I have no desire to keep you here. Indeed, I want nothing more than for you to leave.”

“Oh yeah?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “We’re alone. There’s no one stopping you from taking me back. Why am I still here then?”

“You stated you didn’t intend to climb the stalk.” Logan reminded him. “That is the only known exit.”

“Well I’d climb DOWN!” Virgil yelled, exasperated at the way this giant seemed to always twist his words. “That’s different. Climbing down is much different.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works; regardless, my brothers would be quite devastated if I released you.” Logan let out a small sigh of annoyance, as though he were discussing taking the last sweet from the bin and not the fate of Virgil’s life. “I would never hear the end of it.”

“What, so I’m just doomed to be a little captive here for the rest of my life because you don’t feel like communicating with your siblings about how it’s wrong to capture people?” Virgil glared at Logan, feeling brave in his anger.

“Well, as you said,” Logan shrugged, opening up his book once more and looking bored of this conversation, “you have nowhere else to go.”

Virgil stopped, not believing this was truly happening. Logan was the only one with any common sense in this hell, and yet even he didn’t seem bothered by this horrible fate that Virgil was trapped in. The human tried to steady his breathing, the full reality of his situation beginning to sink in when he thought about truly spending the rest of his life here.

“Please.” Virgil begged, his voice cracking slightly as emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He had only been here a day and was already breaking under the pressure. “Please, help me. I don’t have anyone else here to trust.”

“A pity.” Logan murmured. Virgil was pouring his heart out and the giant wasn’t even listening.

“What about all that talk about not wanting me to stay, huh?” Virgil insisted. “I know you hate me. Just get rid of me now. Don’t let your brothers push you around like this.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t hate you as an individual.” Logan corrected. “I just am distrustful of your kind and prefer to keep our worlds separated.”

“Yes! Exactly, so do that!” Virgil exasperated, tears collecting in his eyes. “Take me to the garden, hell, say that I got away. I’ll chop down the beanstalk, I won’t take anything, I’ll destroy the beans. No one will ever bother you again I swear on my life just let me go home!”

Logan finally, finally looked up from his book, processing the expression on Virgil’s face. “…are you crying?”

“What do you think?” Virgil sniffled, not even bothering to hold them back anymore as his breath became ragged. Maybe it would earn him some pity points. Although, looking at Logan’s expression, that wasn’t likely.

“Oh. Feelings.” The giant pulled back his book, cringing as though he expected the tears to ruin his precious pages. He turned to the doorway, calling louder and stabbing a stake directly into Virgil’s heart. “Patton! It’s crying!”

“NO!” Virgil screeched, pulling at his hair as he heard heavy footsteps rushing towards them. “NO, you stuck up, horrible, unfeeling, terrible, monstrous- gack!” The rest of Virgil’s insults were cut off, the little breath he had knocked out of his lungs as he was grabbed up harshly in a new set of hands.

“Aww, it’s okay!” Patton cooed, and Virgil found himself harshly pressed into flesh in what he assumed was the giant’s asinine attempt at a hug. “It’s okay, shhh, I’m right here. Sorry, Logan. I’ll take him away.”

“Yes, please do.” Logan’s tone sounded uncomfortable, gazing at Virgil with a sort of pained expression. Through his blurry vision Virgil glared back at him, cold-blooded.

[dead-inside-mcgee]

Beyond that door - Part 2

The lesser evil

Summary:  Chase sits in silence, feeling embarrassed for no particular reason. He doesn’t even think about the fact that he never gave the man his name.

Word Count:  2028

Taglist: @rabbitsartcorner @caori-azarath @murder-schmurder 

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen! Tonight we bring you exclusive interviews with our latest mayoral candidates. Starting with a young man coming from right here in Septic City, let me introduce you to Mr. Jameson Jackson!” 

  “Thank you Miss. Cook.,” Jameson said with a sharp, British accent. 

  No matter what you’re wrong. 

  “Now Mr. Jackson. You claim that you grew up here in this city, but your accent is British. Why is that?”

  “Well you see, my parents were British, and they had me after moving here. I simply just inherited it from them.” His voice is slightly shaky, and cracks occasionally. He clearly wasn’t made for public speaking, but he holds himself together. 

  “Interesting. Now time for a big question. Why are you running for office?”

  “Ah, now that would be a good question. Well let me think.” 

  There’s a pause. 

  “Well there’s a few reasons.” Jameson states. “When I was young I grew up without a voice. Nothing I ever said mattered. I grew up believing that nothing I ever said would matter. And I look around today and see people just like me believing their voice means nothing. So my goal is to give those like me a voice and make sure they are heard.

  “There is also the fact that I’ve always been looked down upon in my own family. My brother is a famous voice actor, my father runs a business, my mother is a reporter, and what have I done? Have any of you even hear of me before I ran for mayor?” 

  There’s a few awkward glances before the candidate continues. 

  “I want to accomplish something big. Something that people will remember me by. But most of all, I want to do what I believe it right.” 

  “You know Mr. Jackson, they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” 

  “And that’s very true! Many people who wanted what was right, did terrible things to get it. Because they thought… it’s what they had to do…” His tone shifts, along with his expression.

  “Umm… Well that’s very interesting Sir. The people would also like to kno-” He cut her off. 

  “I will not be answering any more questions.“ He states and walks off, followed by a few baffled reporters. 

  ***

Chase flicked off the TV and joined Marvin with observing their guest. After tying him to a chair the doctor passed out again, and after failing to wake him, they decided to just wait until the potion wears off. 

  “Nothing interesting on TV?” The witch asks. 

  “Not really.” He sighs.

  Marvin glances around. “Want to play a board game or something while we wait for him to wake up?”

  He glances at the clock. “Actually, I should be heading home. It’s late, I have work, and I need a new phone.”

  Marvin nods, trying not to look disappointed. “Can’t you take a day off to help watch this guy?” 

  He stands. “As much as I’d love to, it’s not worth the trouble I’d get into.”

  “Okay… At least keep an eye on that guy, Anti, you work with.” 

  “Will do!” Chase makes his way up the stairs and is greeted by the cool night air. 

  It’s about two am, his work starts at eight. If he got home in ten minutes, he could squeeze in at least five and a half hours of sleep before he has to get ready. 

  Oh, who is he kidding? There’s no way he’s going to fall asleep tonight. 

  He wonders around the town, he never noticed just how quiet it was at this time, especially considering how big the town was.  

  Chase finds himself in a small Cafe. He decides to grab a very early breakfast. 

  The Cafe is empty except for the cashier and a man in a bowler cap sitting in the corner. 

  Chase just gets a coffee and a fancy sandwich a plops down at a table. 

  He notices the man seems pretty lonely, so he gets and asks if he could sit across from him. 

  The man nods. 

  “Cool.” Chase sits down and eats. 

  “Tell me,” the man begins. Chase notes that he has a british accent. “What’s a man like you doing out at a time like this?” 

  “I could ask you the same question,” he says through a mouth full of food. 

  The man laughs. “I had a rough day. Or I guess a rough yesterday. Couldn’t sleep.” 

  “Same.” Chase blinks, noticing just how familiar this man seems. “Do I know you.” 

  “Not personally I assure you. You’ve probably seen me on TV.” He lifts off his hat. 

  Chase chokes. “You’re- you’re-!” 

  “Jameson Jackson, at your service.” He holds out his hand. 

  He takes it, his face flushed in embarrassment. 

  “You’re a cyborg, aren’t you?” Jameson says, examining his arm. There was a very faint line where the robotic part met the skin, but Chase thought no one would notice, especially with the mask. 

   “Don’t worry,” he continues, “I won’t say anything. I just tend to notice things. Are you using a mask of sorts?” 

  Chase nods, no longer trusting his voice. 

  “Interesting. I always thought masks were very interesting. I never understood why they were outlawed.” 

  “How did you-”

  “How did I see through it?” Jameson chuckles, letting go of his hand. “Like I said, I tend to notice things. Masks aren’t perfect.” 

  The politician stands up. “Have a lovely day, Mr. Brody.” 

  Chase sits in silence, feeling embarrassed for no particular reason. He doesn’t even think about the fact that he never gave the man his name. 

***

Marvin never liked the silence. The fact that he was used to it didn't change that fact. 

  He liked Chase. For many reasons, he was friendly, and worked hard, and always loved to fill that silence. But he was also stubborn. Even more stubborn than Marvin himself. 

  When Marvin was forced underground, he cut Chase off. He wanted to keep the man safe, and if cutting him off was the way to do it, then he would. 

  But stubborn, persistent Chase, found his way back into Marvin’s life, and this time Marvin couldn’t so easily shut him out.

  The witch was snapped out of his thoughts by a thump and a yelp. He turns to fine his guest had managed to tip over the chair. 

  “Wh-where am I?” Henrik asks. His voice was groggy and high pitched, like he wasn’t used to talking. 

  Marvin fixes the chair upright. “Somewhere no one will ever find you.” 

  The man shivers. “What are you going to do to me?” 

  “Nothing bad. I just have some questions. Can you answer some questions?” 

  Henrik nods, trembling enough to make the chair creek. 

  Marvin pulls up another chair and sits in front of him. “What’s the last thing you remember doing?” 

  “I remember reading. And then sleeping…” 

  “No memories of holding the mayor hostage or threatening to blow up a hospital?”

  Henrik blinks. “Noo…?”

  “Damn it!” He bites his lip and stands up to writing something on the whiteboard. “I was hoping you’d have… something.” 

  “I’m sorry?” He shifted uncomfortably. 

  “”It’s not your fault.” Marvin pulls out a book and flips through it. “Sleep potions tend to cause slight memory loss, and I doubt you were, well, you, during either of those situations.” 

  “I’m confused. Who even are you?” Henrik looked around, his voice a little shaky. 

  “Right, manners.” Deeming the other man harmless, he snaps his fingers and the ropes fall away. “My name is Marvin.” He puts the book back up and holds out his hand. 

  Henrik takes it slowly, his eyes flickering to the myriad of scars that doctorated Marvin’s hand and arm. He then notices how many scars he has on his own hands. 

  The magician notices his gaze. “Do you know how you got any of those?”

  “Papercuts.” He states, but he doesn’t sound so sure.

  “If you say so.” Marvin shrugs and lets go. 

  Henrik slowly shifts to sitting on the floor, finding that more comfortable. 

  Marvin watches him and sighs. “Do you want to play a boardgame or something?”

  He shrugs and Marvin pulls a random box off the shelf.

***

Chase ate lunch alone, as usual. Sure he’d only worked here for a few days, but it seemed like no one really liked him. Maybe he wasn’t friendly enough, or maybe he was too friendly.

  Whatever the matter, he was alone.  

  There were benefits to the loneliness. For one, he could sit back and listen to music instead of having to make conversation. And he could be sloopy without being judged. 

  He was completely fine with eating alone, are hardly lonely, he told himself. 

  He slipped on his headphones to mute his thoughts for a moment. He didn’t pack much of a lunch, just some cold leftovers from a week ago. Not that he was in the mood for anything else.

  Right as he was about to get to the good part of a song, someone tapped his shoulder. Chase grunted and turned off his music. 

  “Do you mind if I sit here?” The man asked. 

  Chase blinked, taking a moment to register his face. He gulped, his face heating up. 

  “I- uh- s-sure.” 

  The man gave a toothy grin and sat across from him. 

  “You’re Chase Brody right?” 

  Chase nods. “And you’re- you’re Anti right..?” 

  Anti chuckles. “Actually, it’s Anthony. But Anti works too. How are you?” 

  “I’m fine,” He squeaks.

  “You sure?” You look a little red.” Anti raises an eyebrow. 

  “Yeah. I’m ok, it’s just a little warm in here.”

  “I can ask someone if they can turn down the temperature.” 

  “No- no. I’m fine.” Why was he getting so flustered right now?

  “Sorry if this is a little forward, but can I have your number?” 

  Chase chokes on air.  “Yes. I mean no. I mean my phone broke last night, so I don’t have a number right now. But I have plans to get one soon.” Marvin said he’d get him a new one, right?

  “Hm, alright. Maybe later tonight I can take you out and get you a new one.” Anti smiles. 

  This time Chase really chokes, going into a coughing fit. 

  “I- I’m fine.” He says between coughs. “I appreciate the offer, but no!” 

  “Oh well. We should go out some time though.” He glances at the clock. “Welp, I gotta get back to work.”

  “But the break just started.” Chase called, but Anti already disappeared. 

***

Marvin signed, pulling out the Monopoly rules again to try and explain them. They were sitting on the floor, an array of pieces and Monopoly money spewed about. 

  “You don’t seem very into this game,” Henrik comments.

  “I’m not really. Monopoly is just boring.” He tossed down the instructions and started putting the game up. 

  “Are you okay?” 

  Marvin paused. “Why do you care.” 

  “Because I’m a human being with basic empathy that can tell when something is wrong.” Henrik stated, crossing his arms. 

  Marvin said nothing, sliding the game back on the shelf. 

  “Fine. You’re right.” He slumped back onto the floor. 

  “So. What’s wrong.” 

  “I’m not about to spill my feelings to someone I met about…” He glances at the clock., “Ten hours ago, that could be a murderous asshole for all I know.” 

  He gulped, turning away. 

  Marvin groaned, putting his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

  “Yes you did, don’t lie.” 

  “I don’t think you’re the bad guy. Or a bad guy in general. I just have too many feelings, and like I said, I’ve only known you for so long.” 

  “I understand.” Henrik looks down. 

  “I just sent my friend to investigate someone, and I'm worried that he'll get hurt. Especially since he doesn’t have a phone, which is my fault and-” 

  The doctor reaches out to touch his shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look. 

  He wipes his face, laughing weakly. “Oh, this is pathetic.” 

  “Don’t say that!” Henrik snaps. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”

  “What are you, a therapist?” 

  “I’m a doctor, but I did dabble in psychology,” Henrik says with a prideful grin.  

  “Fine. If you really wanna hear about my issues.” 

[lucifer-in-my-head]

To Love a Prince - Chapter Eleven

Summary: A new kingdom. A new home. A new husband. When Prince Dolion is arranged to marry the heir of another kingdom, he is eager to leave behind his loneliness, along with the family he knows won’t miss him - but fate is not so benign. Married to a man that does not love him, Dee finds his heart drawn to another; a man that can never be his. As the stability of his marriage rapidly deteriorates, Dee must endure the weight of his own feelings, the crushing isolation that comes with them…and the brutality of the one who is supposed to protect him. Pairings: Roman/Deceit (abusive), Virgil/Deceit   Overall Warnings: Abuse, abusive relationship, abusive Roman, angst, broken bones, disowning, domestic abuse, exploration of trauma, injuries, non/con, parental neglect, rape, sympathetic Deceit, violence Chapter Warnings: Injury mention, unsympathetic Roman, gaslighting, touch starved Deceit, isolation Word Count: 2032 Masterlist AO3

Chapter Eleven:

“You’re so lifeless, lately,” Roman complained quietly as he played with Dee’s hair. Dee made a small noise in his throat, but otherwise didn’t react, too relaxed by the feeling of Roman’s fingers running through his hair to formulate any kind of response. They were on the bed, Dee cuddled up to Roman as his husband sat against the headboard. It was one of the rare occasions that Roman actually took the time to pay attention to Dee, and Dee was milking it for everything he could get. 

“I suppose that is to be expected,” Roman mused, “You’ve been cooped up for, what is it? Almost three months, now?”

Dee nodded slightly, somewhat glad to finally know exactly how long it had been. Three months… He’d been isolated for three months… 

“Your injuries have healed up alright,” Roman continued, “And your knee is… well, you can walk on it now, at least.” He could walk on it, now. Though he did have a noticeable limp if he wasn’t concentrating on hiding it. 

Another few minutes passed in silence, and Dee almost dozed off, soothed by the feeling of Roman’s hand in his hair. “You’re very pale,” Roman said suddenly, jerking Dee awake. “And your hair has gone dull… I should fetch the healer. You might be sick.” 

Dee didn’t feel sick, but he didn’t see the point in arguing. Roman had made up his mind. He whined as Roman got to his feet, missing the touch as soon as it was gone, and Roman rolled his eyes. “Stop being so needy,” he said, and Dee’s shoulders curled forward as he dropped his gaze. 

“Sorry…” He murmured. 

Roman waved a dismissive hand, and left, returning half an hour later with the same healer that had tended to all Dee’s injuries. He got to his feet, keeping most of his weight on his good leg.

She frowned at his state, examining him closely. “He’s not sick,” she said eventually, frowning further in thought. “When was the last time he went outside, Your Highness?” She asked Roman, as if Dee wasn’t even there. His fists clenched in frustration, but he didn’t speak up. That would be rude, after all. 

“He’s been in here since you first saw him,” Roman said, tilting his head. “He hasn’t been outside.” 

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “There’s your problem - humans need sunlight, Your Highness. He looks sickly because he hasn’t been getting any. Take him outside. Regularly. He’ll be healthier for it.” 

She talks like I’m his pet dog, Dee thought miserably. 

“Alright. Thank you for your help,” Roman said, showing her out. 

“It was my pleasure, Your Highness.” She gave a curt bow before going on her way, and Roman returned to Dee, who’d sat back down on the bed. 

“Well then, I suppose your bedrest has officially ended,” Roman said. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Dee allowed a hopeful smile on his face. “Really?” He breathed. “I can- I can go out?” 

Roman nodded. “As long as you’re in my company, then yes,” he allowed. 

“Thank you!” Dee cried, jumping up and hugging Roman tightly. Roman chuckled ruffling Dee’s hair lightly. 

“Where would you like to go?” He asked. 

“...could we go to the gardens?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Roman responded, stepping back. “But you should get dressed, first. I won’t have my husband wandering about in his bedclothes.” 

Dee flushed, and nodded, limping over to his wardrobe and pulling out a clean tunic and pants, as well as a jacket in case he got cold. He stripped quickly, not overly fond of seeing himself without clothing, and did his best to ignore Roman’s eyes on his body. Dressing himself was a little slower, especially with how careful he had to be pulling on his pants so he didn’t jostle his knee too much. Once he was fully dressed, he exhaled, and stepped back over to Roman, ready to go.

Roman slipped his hand in Dee’s, and Dee’s heart raced excitedly as they stepped out into the corridor. It wasn’t anything interesting, but it was the first time Dee had seen anything other than his own chambers in months! He smiled brightly, letting his eyes scan over everything in sight. It was so nice to see something different…

Between their chambers and the garden, Dee was met with many congratulatory remarks from those they passed, commending him for recovering from his ‘illness’. 

Ah. So that’s what Roman told them. That I was ill.

He supposed he looked the part, at least.

He did his best not to limp as they walked, though he couldn’t hide it completely. Nobody commented on that, though, so at least if Roman was going to get mad at him again, it couldn’t be for that…

Dee almost cried when they finally reached the gardens, his eyes assaulted with so many bright, beautiful colours that he was nearly overwhelmed by it all. The beauty of the garden was such a stark contrast to the colours in their bedchambers - which were rather colourful, but felt incredibly dull when it was all you had to look at for three months. Dee felt the breath rush from him at the sight.

“They’re beautiful, right?” Roman said, leading Dee through the pebbled path into the orchard. 

“Truly...it’s gorgeous,” Dee whispered in awe. Roman chuckled and led him further in. 

They strolled through the orchard, first, and Dee was amazed by how many different kinds of fruit trees they had. There were apricot trees, apple trees, lemon trees, even mango trees! Roman even allowed Dee to pick one of the ripe apples, and he ate it slowly as they walked. Soon enough his knee began to ache, but he ignored it. He was finally allowed outside! He didn’t want to waste time thinking about the pain. 

Past the orchard, there were flowerbeds, containing a colourful variety of flowers that made Dee’s breath catch. Beyond that, there were rose bushes with roses of every colour, and Dee picked a yellow rose, offering it up to Roman with a shy smile. 

Roman’s eyes rolled, but he was smiling. For a moment, Dee thought Roman was going to refuse the rose, but after a second, he took it, tucking the stem into his breast pocket. Dee felt his cheeks warm up as he smiled.

“Come. Let’s continue onwards,” Roman said, tugging Dee further along the path. They walked until Dee’s knee was screaming at him, and his limp became more and more noticeable with each step he took. Roman sighed. “There’s a bench not much further. You can rest there.” 

“Thank you,” Dee managed, wheezing quietly from the effort of walking for so long. It hadn’t even been half an hour, but after not exercising at all for so long, Dee was far too unfit. 

As soon as they reached the bench, Dee dropped down onto it, panting for breath. His knee was intensely painful, and when Roman sat down beside him, Dee leaned on him, resting his head on his husband’s shoulder. He heard Roman give a sigh, but he didn’t push him away, so Dee didn’t move. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling tired. 

“Clearly, you need more exercise,” Roman teased, and Dee nodded his agreement. Roman wrapped an arm around Dee’s waist, shifting them slightly. Dee exhaled softly as he felt Roman’s lips at his neck, and held still as Roman kissed down to his collarbone. It didn’t progress any further than that, thankfully, but by the time Roman stopped, he’d hardened in his pants, and Dee knew that his night was going to be long. But he tried not to dwell on that. 

At least Roman would be touching him. 

They sat on the bench for a while, and when Dee finally opened his eyes again, he noticed the small pond nearby, smiling softly at the duck and her three ducklings floating on the water. “Aww...look,” he pointed to the ducks, smiling up at Roman. 

“Yes, I did notice them. Beautiful, aren’t they?” 

Dee nodded, resting his head on Roman’s shoulder again as he watched them. He felt so happy...happier than he’d felt in a long, long time. Sitting here, outside, in the gardens, watching the ducks with Roman… he didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted time to stop, right here, so that Dee could live out this moment forever. 

Unfortunately, time did not bow to the whims of man, and continued on the same way it always did, indifferent. Roman eventually grew bored of sitting there and got to his feet. “We ought to be heading back,” he said, “I can’t neglect my responsibilities forever.” 

Dee’s smile fell, and he nodded, disappointed. He’d hoped for a bit more time out in the sun…

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roman assured him, taking his hand again and tugging Dee along with him as he headed back to the palace. “The healer said you need to go outside every day, so that is what we’ll do. However, I cannot devote every moment of my time to you.”

Dee nodded. “I know. I’m sorry,” he murmured, feeling bad for making Roman feel the need to explain himself. 

“You’re forgiven,” Roman said.

Dee felt like crying once they were back in the familiarity of their chambers, his mood immediately dropping the moment he stepped through the door. He wanted so badly to go back outside, but he didn’t dare ask Roman for more time today, not wanting to make his husband angry after they’d had such a good day. Perhaps tomorrow…

Roman gave him a soft kiss goodbye before he left, and Dee sat down on one of the couches, brushing his fingertips over his lips. Roman had been in a rather good mood for a while now… hadn’t hit Dee much over the past fortnight. Hadn’t so much as threatened him today. Maybe Dee was finally doing something right for once…

A small smile tugged at his lips at the thought. Maybe he was doing better. Roman certainly seemed to be happier with him as of late. Maybe it was because Dee had stopped trying to resist him when he didn’t want sex...maybe it was because Dee was quieter. Maybe it was because Dee was trying harder to please him. Whether it was one, or a combination of the three, Dee decided to keep doing what he was doing, wanting to keep Roman happy. He liked Roman when he was happy. 

Roman didn’t hurt him when he was happy. 

Roman took him out into the gardens the next day, and the day after that, and slowly, Dee found his spirits lifting. Each day he woke up looking forward to their walk in the garden, and he actually managed to pull himself out of bed without Roman having to tell him to get up. As the week passed, he even found himself getting a little fitter, feeling slightly less exhausted at the end of each walk, though the pain in his knee persisted throughout, and Dee suspected that it would never go away.

That was one thing he still couldn’t let go.

As much as Roman had been gentle with him, lately, and as much as Dee craved his touch, he still couldn’t forget what had led them both to this. Memories of that day still tormented him, and every step he took was a reminder of what Roman had done to him. Though the cuts had healed and the bruises had faded, his knee was never going to be the same. 

According to the healer, Dee’s kneecap had shattered, and though it had healed as best as it could, an injury like that never healed fully. 

He did his best to ignore it, though, even when sometimes it felt impossible to do so. He was enjoying being allowed outside again and didn’t want to risk Roman changing his mind and confining him to their rooms again. For that reason, he never once complained about the pain he felt, except to quietly request they take a break from walking, which Roman never seemed to particularly mind. 

It was good. 

Everything was…

Good.

[snarkyfinch]

Change

The Doctor and the Ponds find their way back to one another, and the Doctor doesn’t plan to leave again. It just takes a few months to convince them of that. And another year or so to convince them both he loves them, but really, what’s a few years compared to a thousand?

(aka 2,000+ words of snarky giving amy rory and the doctor a happy romantic ending)

- -

“I suppose, in the end, they break my heart.”

And hadn't that been the truth for so very long? Hadn’t that been the one thing he carried with him, every time someone new stepped foot in the TARDIS? Yes, for quite a while his companions had all broken his hearts. They smiled and laughed and cried and lived, and then at some point they didn’t. The smiles were gone, as were the laughs, and the tears. So was the life. 

And it was so terribly lonely.

Sometimes he made himself live with that loneliness. Sometimes he let the years pass by with nothing but the wheezing of his TARDIS, no humans or otherwise present to make his chest ache. No one there to remind him he didn’t need to be alone. 

“Doctor?” The voice, so soft and hesitant, makes him smile. Despite the dark place his thoughts have drifted to, he smiles. “Hello, Rory.” “But how-?” Rory looks like a surprised fish, and if he were any less sorrowful and any more thrilled he might have laughed. As it were, he can only continue to smile at Rory. Judging from the concern that blooms like honeysuckles in Rory’s eyes, the smile mustn’t look very happy. Oops. 

“I’m a time lord. I do what I want.” “But this- you can’t be- not that I’m not happy to see you, of course I am it’s just-“ “Rory.” The Doctor keeps his tone gentle, always gentle around Rory. Because Rory has seen too much, because Rory the Roman deserves a little gentleness after everything he’s been dragged through on the Doctor’s account. “May I come in?”

Rory gapes at him for a moment more before nodding his head and letting out a series of stutters that collects in the Doctor’s mind to form, “Yes, yes of course, please do.” Then, Rory calls for Amy. There’s a long pause before her voice, irritated but not overly hostile, calls back. “What is it?”

“Get down here! Now! Preferably!” The Doctor wants to laugh, to cry, to something, at the familiarity of it all. Of the warmth creeping through him, at the fact he can’t seem to stop smiling. His cheeks are getting sore. 

Rory hasn’t stopped staring. 

The two men sit in silence as Amy makes her way to them, and they continue their silence as she enters the room with a gasp. “Doctor?” “Pond,” the word is said with all of the warmth, all of the love, he has left within him. Embers of a fire that has been dampened time and time again, the broken pieces of his heart crying out. “I’ve missed you.”

Amy sobs, does what he can’t, and then she’s in his arms. She’s in his arms and Rory seems unsure, standing to the side with eyes that shine suspiciously bright. He’s going to cry, too, then. The Doctor reaches out, tugs him in because his hearts ache and his eyes are wet. Because he’s home. It took him so long to realize what his home was, and he felt like the biggest idiot to ever exist when it hit him. 

Gallifrey was forever his home land, his origin, but it wasn’t his true home anymore. No, his true home was in the arms of those that loved him. 

“How are you here?” Amy asks, her face buried against his chest. “How is this possible?” “I’ve never been good at following the rules, have I? Especially not when it comes to you two.” Rory looks surprised to be included, and the Doctor squeezes him closer just to spite that surprise. Rory was a part of this, whatever this was. Whatever this was going to be. Rory was a part of it, too, and the Doctor didn’t intend to let him forget that. 

Judging from the death grip Amy had on Rory’s hand, she didn’t either. 

“What does this mean?” Amy meets his gaze now, eyes red and tear filled. Her nose is running and her skin is blotchy, and really it’s not the most attractive she’s ever been, but she is beautiful. “It means, Pond, that it’s time for some coffee and snacks.”

She laughs, and so does Rory, and the Doctor doesn’t think he’s ever heard a sound more beautiful. 

-

“Doctor?” Rory’s voice pipes up from behind him, and he glances away from his book to the man leaned in the doorway. “Yes, Rory?” “When… when are you leaving?” Rory sounds as awkward as ever, unsure of what path he’s meant to be taking when it comes to conversation. “What do you mean?” “I just. It’s not that I want you to go. Of course I don’t, it’s lovely having you here and all. It’s just. Well. You’re… you. You get bored. And it’s already been, what? A week? So, I was just wondering when you planned to leave, and when you do go if you’d mind-“

“Rory,” his voice doesn’t waver, which is a pleasant surprise. “Rory I’m not leaving. If that’s alright.” Rory blinks, mouth open, uncomprehending. The Doctor lets out a soft breath at the familiar expression, thinks back to the first time he saw that mute shock. He had missed all of this, though he could do without the awkward mornings. Those never had gotten easier to navigate. 

“Of course it’s alright, you dolt.” And there’s Amy, snow still melting in her hair, eyes as sharp as daggers. “We’ve kept an empty room for you for… how long?” “Years,” Rory whispers, sounding absolutely mystified. “Years.” Amy agrees, eyes focused solely on the Doctor. “So don’t even think of leaving, understand?”

“I won’t even consider it.” He’s not sure she understands how much he means those words. She’ll understand eventually, though. He knows she will. She’s always been smart. 

-

Six months. Six months of learning how to function as a human being on earth. He gets a job, thinks of Craig as he suggests the best toys for parents to place under the Christmas tree. Wonders how his friend is, wonders about a lot of things, and then he’s spiraling. He’s learned how to deal with spiraling, he’s learned a lot of things. 

Clara would be proud. He’s adjusting. He’s learning. He’s coping. 

“Amy? Have you seen my glasses?” “The ones you don’t need?” She sounds exasperated, but amused. He gives her his best sheepish but cheeky grin, unable to stop the nervous fluttering of his hands. His hands never sit still when he wants them to, but he’s found he doesn’t mind it. Lovely way to work off excess energy. 

“Yes, those.” “They’re in the bathroom on the medicine cabinet. For some reason. I saw them up there when I was dropping off your laundry.” “Ah, lovely. Thank you!” He makes sure to make his voice just a bit sing-songy because it always makes her smile when he does. Something about his dorky charms. 

“Oh, Doctor? Rory and I won’t be home for dinner tonight. Work.” The Doctor almost winces at that, but instead he just gives a wobbly smile. Amy looks sympathetic, and he really rather hates that. “You two are so busy. I feel like I should get another job.”

Amy laughs despite herself at that, shaking her head vehemently. “No, no you don’t need another job. You’d go insane.” “Still! You two are so busy all the time. Absolutely no time for me!” He absolutely does not whine his words out as he flops onto the couch, staring up at her flushed cheeks and wide smile. Beautiful. 

“You’re like a cat, sometimes.” She muses this as she runs a hand through his hair, watching it flop down over the edge of the sofa. The Doctor grins at her, unable to find the right response to that. She continues to fiddle with his hair until her hand comes to rest on his chest and her eyes return to her book. 

The Doctor stays there for as long as his back and legs will allow, basking in the comfort that is his Pond. 

-

“Rory! There you- oh.” “Lost a patient.” 

The words come out in a tired croak, and as the Doctor takes in the sight of tired eyes and slouched posture, his hearts crack just a bit. He moves forward before he can think why, arms reaching out as Rory leans willingly into his embrace. The Doctor has never been the best at these things, but he wraps his arms around Rory as tightly as he can and makes sure to tuck Rory’s face against his shoulder. That’s a comforting position, right?

Of course. The movies do it. He hasn’t had to do this in such a long time. 

“It’s alright now, Rory. You did all you could. It’s alright.” “You're terrible at this.” “Hush. I know.”

Rory’s laugh is feeble, but it’s a laugh. The Doctor laughs with him, just a little, because he can’t help it. Rory goes from holding him to gripping onto his shirt like a lifeline, shaking for a moment as he bites back a sob. The doctor hears the way his breathing hitches, hears him swallow the sound like a pill. 

“I’m sorry, Rory. You can’t save everyone.” “I know-“ “But you can stay strong for the ones you do save. It’s not going to get easier, but you will at least know how to cope with it.”

Rory looks at him and something clicks. The Doctor sees the light of understanding, the flickering ghosts that haunt this beautiful man. “You made dinner.” The sudden observation is startling, but the Doctor nods his head and motions to the table. “I’m still a bit rusty with it, but-“

“Doctor, it’s going to be amazing.” Rory’s eyes are still dripping tears, but he seems determined to ignore it so the Doctor decides to ignore it as well. For now. Until Amy gets home.

Until Amy gets home, the Doctor will hold Rory’s hand and pretend death is just something in children’s dark fairytales. 

-

“Doctor.”

He has lived with the Ponds for two years, now. Two wonderful, confusing, happy, terrifying years. Two years of an itch he can’t scratch no matter how much he runs, no matter how many bird houses he puts together, no matter how many children he helps find the perfect toy. 

The tone Amy uses sends a spike of fear through him, ice crawling up his spine. 

“Pond?” And there’s Rory at her side, both looking so serious. So severe. It scares him. It scares him so badly. “We need to talk.” “What about?” “We love you,” it’s Rory who says it. Rory who looks so nervous, like something fragile is in his hands and one wrong breath will break it. The Doctor wonders, distantly, if he’s that fragile thing. 

“I love you both, too.” He sounds confused. He knows he does. 

Amy bites her lip. 

“That’s just it, Doctor. We love you.” He’s not sure he understands. For a little while, he finds himself frozen like a popsicle before them. Just staring, mute and uncomprehending. Of course the Ponds love him, they’ve always made that clear. And he’s always done what he can to make it clear he loves them. So then why is this important?

Then his mind reaches back. A bit further than Amelia Pond and Clara Oswald. Back, back, back. To blonde hair and glassy hazel eyes.

“I love you.”

Rose. Ah. So that’s what all of this was about. 

“Oh.” He says intelligently. 

Amy barks out a laugh, Rory nervously chuckling along. “Yes, Doctor. Oh. We love love you. Now what do you have to say?” Her smile is almost bitter, eyes hardening as though she’s expecting-

“Oh, Amy.” He doesn’t mean to sound so sad when he says it, but really. After everything, for these two bumbling idiots to think he really wouldn’t love them back is the saddest thing he’s heard in quite a while. “Of course I love you.”

Amy laughs again but this time it’s with relieved tears in her eyes. Rory has gone quiet. The Doctor feels like strangling him. “I love both of you so much I quite literally defied the laws of everything to be here. Really, was there any doubt?”

He moves first. A few steps and he’s got them both in his arms, pulling them as close as he possibly can to make sure they know. To make sure they hear how fast his hearts are beating for them. Rory nuzzles closer and Amy stubbornly wriggles about until she can steal a kiss. 

The Doctor lets himself fall in love, hard and fast and without regret. He’s going to be happy. 

-

“Doctor Pond,” he breathes it like a prayer, eyes watching himself in the mirror as he carefully fixes his bow tie. 

He’s going to be married, today.

They’ve waited a handful of years for this. He’s had a ring for a whole two years now, he’s held the title of fiancé for a whole two years. It feels absurd, and yet the fact that he’s finally getting married is… surreal. 

He feels like he’s floating. 

“Doctor? Are you ready?” Clara’s little voice tears him from his thoughts, and he gives her the brightest grin he can. He’s still not sure how she found her way here, but she did. She’s going to walk him down the aisle, and that thought makes him lightheaded. “As I’ll ever be, I suppose.” Clara laughs in that special little way of here, the one that reminds him of Christmas bells. 

Her arm waits patiently for his own to loop around it, and once it’s there she gives it a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to go fine.” “Of course it is. I’m not nervous. Why would I be? Are-“ “Doctor.” She’s scolding him with a smile, a knowing gleam in her eyes. He huffs, and definitely not like a petulant child. “Fine. I’m nervous. It’s my big day! Of course I am.”

Clara laughs again, resting her head against his shoulder. “Don’t be nervous. You’ve known them your whole life. Sort of. Just pretend they’re the only ones here.” The Doctor does his best to follow her advice as the music starts, but the nerves return when they start moving. His hearts race, he’s fairly certain he’s sweating. 

It all fades when he sees Amy and Rory waiting for him. The sun glows around them, and he’d call them angels if it didn’t bring up so many bad memories to do so. Instead, he calls them ethereal. 

Amy smiles and Rory is already crying. The Doctor just grins. 

He’s never been more excited to say, “I do.”

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Growing Up

800 followers celebration! Thanks for joining <3

This is set in the same universe as the Fade Modern AU, to be found here:

A New Place

Growing Up

The Dinner

Roman Holiday

The Wedding

A/N: This is actually a prequel

Find this on wattpad and on AO3

Mare POV

I wake up with a gasp. I squint at the sunlight, quickly occupied with making sure that I’m home and that I’m alone. The relief about this is embarrassing, meaning I’ve believed I really could’ve done something very stupid last night, like going home with my date, or bringing him here. It would’ve been easy, since I’m the only one at home for the next nine days while my parents and Gisa are on vacation in Mexico, my brothers having already moved out. And here I am, staying behind in the void between graduation, college and all that’ll come after, to decide what I’ll do with my life. But instead of finding myself, I hug my pillow at 1 pm, confused over boy issues.

I still feel his warm hands on my waist, his lips on my neck and mouth. He tasted of the fruity cocktails we had. No point to deny it, a look in the mirror assures me he’s left his mark on me. Oh great, as if I don’t look wasted enough. My hair, with its ends recently dyed purple, is a shaggy mess and my make-up’s all-over the place. From the bathroom, I glance over my shoulder, as if Cal would magically appear after all. But no. Despite how it seems, despite the hangover lingering in my stomach, head, and muscles, I did say no to him. The memories are coming back. It came very close to it, because if I’m honest, I have considered spending the night of our fifth date with him, especially during the event. If only he’d never told me about that.

In the end, I decide for a run to chase off last night. Funny that I literally try to run away from my problems and decisions to make, but I guess physical activity is better than playing around with my phone. I don’t fool myself with pretending I’d look up colleges or jobs again, because I know I won’t. I mean, I’m sure I want to spend this year with work and travel, even if it’s another kind of procrastination. But I know I’m not ready, and this is the best chance to live on the road and see the world, as I’ve always dreamed of. Then I’ll have enough time and freedom to figure out if I want to study electric engineering (“that’ll mean a lot of extra learning, Ms. Barrow, do you have the stamina for that?”), politics (“not many career options there”), or something “reasonable” and wholly boring like economics.

I won’t feel bad for choosing freedom when the savings of my family, myself and my scholarship allow me to take a gap year – maybe I’ll even earn some extra money during the time. But that isn’t the reason, that is –

I curse. Just when I’m at the door, I realize I don’t have the key. Great, that’s the reason. I’m not even responsible enough to think of locking and unlocking the flat myself, as I’m still used to someone else being at home. It’s strange to be alone here, although loneliness hasn’t kicked in yet. I have my friends, even Cal, and for now, having the place to myself has been fun. But I gulp at imagining several months without my family. My lovely, chaotic family who always –

The bell rings, just when I’ve grabbed the key. I sigh, rushing to the door. Who I meet isn’t some post guy or neighbour, but my brother Shade, with his baby daughter in his arms. Their sight alone lifts my mood immediately.

“Hi,” he greets me. “Is everyone here?”

I grin. “You got the week wrong. They went on vacation three days ago.” I stand akimbo. “There’s only me.”

“Oh.” He flushes and curses silently. How controlled he is, since although the baby’s only a few months old, he doesn’t curse in front of her. “Well, I’d hug you, but I don’t have a hand free.” He winks at me.

“I’ve missed you too,” I say, a little sarcastically. “Wanna come in?”

“I see you’ve been almost out anyway, and what’s the point if there’s no one else? Let’s have a walk, Clara will like it too,” he says and even baby Clara smiles back at him.

He hugs me once we’re on the corridor and he’s put Clara back in her basket. It’s irksome, but I still have to go on my toes to reach his neck and he laughs at it, which quickly turns into a yawn. While I’m at it, I use the chance to rub his head. “Tired dad, hmm?” I tease.

“You’ve no idea,” he murmurs and sighs, then picks up Clara and walks ahead out of the building. “Could be worse,” he admits. “She only wakes like three times a night, and Diana’s already decided to adapt to her sleeping rhythm. Which means my girls sleep basically all day.”

His girls. There’s always this spark in his eyes when he talks about his girlfriend Diana, or now of their daughter, and I can’t not be envious of his easy and beautiful and perfect relationship. “Where’s Diana now?” I ask.

“Ill, down with a summer cold. I thought I give her some time to rest where she won’t fuss over Clara instead of herself, and go visit the family.” He tries to smile but actually, he looks regretful. Like he missed the chance to fuss and worry over a sick Diana. I assume he sees something in that, that Diana, who’s a very austere person at first glance, opens up to him the most. And because she makes the same eyes at Shade as he does at her.

Yet, despite the apparent stress and worries, he looks so happy, on top of it all. He has a cool girlfriend, lives with her in their own flat, has a job, attends college and now has a baby to take care of as well. All of him screams “responsible adult” at me and tells me how I lack, how I fall flat in comparison. I wish I could be like him, so determined, without doubts.

But I also miss the not-so-long-ago days of our childhood and our pranks and parties and fun together with Kilorn. Kilorn had the ideas, Shade planned, and I executed them. Now, I think we’re still the same people deep down, but Shade managed to move on and grow up while I’m stuck.

“Mare?” His face is a question mark, he must’ve talked to me before.

“Oops, I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head to hide the flush. “What did you say?”

He squints at the sunlight as he looks down the road. “Would you like some ice-cream?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“Good. Is the shop still on Yew Street around the corner?”

“Yes – “

“Cool, will you hold Clara for a second?”

“Umm, what?!” I gasp. “And you didn’t ask what I’d like.”

He winks at me. “Trust me. I think I can still guess your favourites.” And thus, he shoves the basket into my arms and dashes off.

Trust me, huh? I move us to a bench close-by. A slightly bigger thing to trust me with his child. Fortunately, she’s asleep. Please God, let her stay that way. It’s difficult enough to wield the big basket in my short arms, I couldn’t deal with a wailing babe as well. A really cute babe though. So tiny – compared to anyone else at least. Shade said something about her being a big baby once, but looking at her small fingers and features makes me almost forget how terrible I am with children. Almost.

Her eyelids flutter. Damn –

“Already done, Mare!” I hear Shade call, extending his hand with the ice cone.

“Thank you so much!” I exclaim with relief. He’s bought me mango and cherry, truly what I would’ve ordered for myself. Although I’m hungrier than that, with a very empty stomach that two balls of ice cream will hardly fill. Suddenly I’m glad he didn’t notice that. I’d feel bad if he bought me something larger, and idiot me didn’t bring money with me either. Shit. I know he has to be frugal with money, yet I let him invite me. Better I offer him dinner later on, if I manage to prepare something halfway delicious.

Shade’s attention is back on the baby. She has woken up, but instead of crying, she smiles at her father rubbing her belly and grabs for his fingers. It’s lovely. But I also see the rings under his eyes, or how my skin has gotten much darker from time in the sun than his. Shade doesn’t have time to spare with hanging out in the sun, I remember. Maybe this is the first free time outside he’s had in weeks, and he chose to spend it with me. Let’s make it worth it.

I start to talk about my graduation, Kilorn, Gisa, and the stuff our parents were up to lately. He laughs frequently, but glances back at Clara every few seconds, his hand always close to her body.

“Now, what about last night?” he asks out of a sudden, almost jokingly.  Like he’s unaware what a delicate topic this is, not even guessing it when I stare at him with an open mouth because I don’t know how to begin.

“It was fun yesterday,” I say. “I went out, with Cal. We’ve been on dates for a few weeks now, and … and …” Shade nods in understanding, but he has no idea. Not about how good it felt to have this boy smiling at me like I was the most desirable person in the world, how a touch of his chased away all my insecurities – for a moment at least – and lit me up with confidence, only to let these feelings extinguish and crush with his off-hand revelation that then filled me with bitter guilt.

My cheeks heat, my eyes water. No. I don’t want to remember, but –

Suddenly, I’m in Shade’s arms, listening to his sorrys. He even has a hanky ready for me. “Shh,” he mutters, “shh, Clara, everything’s alright –”

I jerk away. “Did you just call me ‘Clara’?!”

He goes red as a cherry. “Umm … did I? Sorry Mare, I must be used to it already, hehe.”

I cackle, or try to, because it hurts with my tearstained face. The drops won’t stop rolling and I hold on to the new hanky Shade produces. He continues to hold my hand while Clara, in her basket, looks up to me from the ground.

“Cal is …” I begin, “I mean, yesterday, he told me about his own plans. He starts college soon, and now he’s found out his half-brother will study at the same one. They’ll have a family dinner soon, a premier for them. That all sounded odd, of course, but I didn’t prod openly. So I wondered whether he and his brother have the same age, and then he looked embarrassed and nodded. ‘It’s a long and complicated story, Mare,’ he said. ‘Nothing to be proud of.’ And I thought, ‘oh saucy details, cool that he trusts me with them’, ignorant fool that I was.” I sniff. “He explained that his mom was his father’s paramour, and when she got pregnant with Cal, his father divorced his first wife. Months later, the ex-wife sent a letter with a photo of their newborn son and called her ex out terribly, but then she wouldn’t let her child meet his father or brother.

“Over the years, the relationship improved little and they got actually very worried about … ‘Maven’, since his mother didn’t seem like the best of people. And that,” I stress, “was the moment I went from curious to shocked.”

“You mean,” Shade guesses, „Maven as in your ex-boyfriend?”

“Yes,” I hiss. “Exactly him. And Maven even told me about his horrible mother, the father he never sees, and the half-brother he doesn’t know!” I bury my face in my hands and hanky to mute my sobs.

Maven, my first crush and boyfriend, with who I shared our first kiss and first sex. During the last year of middle school and the whole of high school, he meant the world to me. He understood all of me, the doubt and the dreams, the dark days and the light, and I hoped to be the same to him. Yet, in the last months, there grew a distance between us. He became extremely ambitious, almost obsessed about getting into a certain college. He was much less open to me, even when I would’ve needed support to find my way, too, or to decide whether a gap year was the right choice. I knew he had problems with anxiety, more severe than the melancholy lingering in me, but never before did that separate us. I didn’t want to leave him because it was too hard to deal with him, but in the end, three months ago, I decided to make a clean cut before my travels and his studies put also a physical distance between us.

“I felt bad about it, about breaking his heart, immediately. And now, imagining he learns I dated and made out with his estranged half-brother?” My voice goes up with a wail, and Shade pulls me closer again.

“It’s okay, Mare, you’ll see,” he whispers. “Don’t ... feel guilty. You aren’t, well, indebted to care for him.”

“But – “

“Nor do you have to erase him from your life. Maybe offer him another goodbye, like invite to your farewell party?” he proposes.

I snort. “As long as Cal doesn’t show up there too.”

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Well, how they reunite and maybe become a family isn’t your problem to solve either. Look, you could also chat with, ah, both of them while you’re away? Perhaps it’ll work out with a little distance.”

I nod, knowing how reasonable his ideas are. And possibly he’s right, and all will work out. But knowledge won’t heal my heart, not Maven’s. Nor will it make an apology to Cal.

“I really like him, you know. Cal, I mean.” I sigh. “Of course, I’m aware it can’t last while I’m abroad. And that was okay, because he started as a mere distraction. But now …” I shrug. “Sometimes, I think it’d be nice if he came with me. Or if we met every now and then, if possible. He has the money for it.”

Shade snorts.

“Yes, you can get annoyed about that,” I admit.

“That’s not what I mean,” he objects.

“Oh?”

“No, I wondered if he’s aware what it’ll mean for you to travel alone.”

I straighten. “Don’t.”

“Mare – “

“No, Shade, I’m not a baby,” I insist. “I want this, and I always did. I might be irresponsible, reckless, and up in the clouds at times, but I’m not a naïve fool. I know what I’m getting into, that it may be dangerous, or that I’ll have to sleep under a bridge for a night, or wear my clothes for a whole week. But that’s the challenge of freedom, and I’m excited for it.” And despite my former tears and the hangover, I smile. “I’ll be on my own, and I’ll miss you, but the prospect fills me with confidence.”

He sighs and embraces me. “Sorry, I totally understand that,” he says. “It may sound a little odd, but Clara felt like a challenge too, before she was born. Diana wanted her so much, but she was insecure too. And we had to encourage each other all the time, assuring us we’d make it.” He sighs deeply.

“I think you’re doing great,” I say.

He smiles weakly. “Thanks. But once she was born? Everything changed. She was laid in my arms, Dee couldn’t stop crying, and I thought, ‘damn, you can’t fuck this up.’ Now we had all the responsibility for this little person, to raise her and make her happy, and it was just … too great.” He swallows and looks down at his child. “Great as in good, but also …” He hesitates.

“I know.” I nod. As in heavy, huge, incomprehensible.

He inclines his head. After a while, he adds, “so, besides all that, I need to keep her safe, and myself and Dee too. I can’t just do what I want, I have to think of her first. I can’t be on my own any longer.

“But that doesn’t mean what you’re doing is irresponsible in any way, Mare. You’ll look after yourself. You may f… make mistakes or not, but you’ll learn a lot anyway, and not before you’ve done it. You have to dare it first, as we had to dare to have Clara.”

I smile. “I knew you’d phrase it better than me.”

“I major in philosophy.” He grins and gives me a shove. “We have new priorities now, and live away from each other, but I’ll always be your brother.”

“My favourite one,” I say and hug him.

A/N: Sorry this rather alludes to Marecal than being about them. i hope I didn’t wake false expectations and enjoed anyway ^^°

Thanks to @clarafarleybarrow @moikorolrezni and @inopinion for advice!

@lilyharvord  @mareshmallow @redqueenfandom @selenbean-beany @wrenskonos @kihlorn @greenfeldbramlouis @head-full-of-books @eurydicel @morebooks-pls @scarletguardsource @choosemarecal @duqrte @hannaharies @proudsmiler16 @indiefangirlflash

[the-omegaverse]

Personal Touch Mating Service

Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass.

 Nothing. Absolutely nothing. MatedMatched.com, bringing matchmaking to the digital age. You filled out a questionnaire of what you were seeking and what you were like, and the trial presented you with several possibly compatible options. Glancing over the last profile in today’s lineup, you tap the last ‘Pass’. Maybe a more tradition matchmaker? A blind date? Your mother?

You shudder at the last one. No, if your parents decided on your match, you’d marry a wealthy two-dimensional cardboard cutout. Maybe in another five years you’d be that desperate.

You look over craigslist. Nothing on there that looked promising.

A Google search for ‘traditional’ matchmaking had several ‘Find a Mate for Your Omega Child’ ads, but it wasn’t until halfway through page three (yes, that desperate) that you found a site that looked promising. It seemed similar to MatedMatch, but instead of an AI, a ‘person’ would look over your entry, compare to options, and set up a chaperoned date. It was stiflingly old fashioned, but it could be fun to try, once. Only the first date was ‘required’ with payment of $19.99.

With a shrug, a sigh, and a ‘What have I got to lose?’, you tap ‘Accept’, and wait to hear back.

It’s three weeks, and you’ve almost completely forgotten about your late-night, loneliness-fueled purchase when you get off work and find a missed call, with a text message.

          “Hello, this is Personal Touch Mating Service. We attempted to call in regards to your date. Please note that if you choose not to accept, the deposit you paid is non-refundable.You may call or text this number for details.”

Well, that certainly refreshed your memory. Deciding that getting the ‘details’ over text would be easier as it would allow you to have it pre-written down for you, you message back your preference and wait again. The reply comes about fifteen minutes later in the form of the name of your chaperone, a restaurant address, and a time. Nothing else.

You do go to the trouble of googling the restaurant, finding the dress code, and putting together a nice outfit. For all you know, this might be the Alpha of your dreams. Could also be an absolute tool, but only time will tell.

The night of, you’d just gotten off work and gone straight to your apartment. Showered, done some light makeup. You didn’t want to set up any expectations that glamorous, tedious makeup was your normal. You also didn’t want to put in no effort at all. A simple pastel green blouse with lace trim, and dark blue slacks. A moment of debate and you decide on stub earrings. Not diamonds, but they’d look like shiny clear gems that could be diamonds to the untrained eye. Styling your hair was second nature, and you left for the restaurant with ample time to spare.

Pulling in to the parking lot, it wasn’t overly packed. You find a spot within a few moments and walk to the door. It’s at this point that you feel the bubbles in your stomach and your anxiety-ridden mind supplies helpful and calming thoughts in the vein of kidnapping, rape, and murder.

You relax slightly as you enter the restaurant’s waiting area and a small-framed Beta woman stands, asking your name. She gives you a smile, and holds out her hand.

          “I’m Carolina, it’s wonderful to meet you. Your future mate has already had a seat, follow me.”

If you’re honest, the ‘future mate’ bit did turn your stomach a bit. That was for you to decide, this certainly wasn’t an engagement event. You assume they use that kind of language to try to get you in the mindset, and you can see the point. Just act like this is the love of your life, and things will work out better than if you go into this already hating them.

What you did not expect was to see someone so close to what you’d always envisioned sitting alone at the table you’re guided to. Tall, with deep dark skin, cropped short hair, in a grey suit with orange accents. Eyes you could get lost in, if you looked at them long enough. You feel a flush as you put two and two together and notice the Alpha has a similar reaction, staring at you with hard eyes.

Your stomach flips and you sit across from them. That’s how you notice the height difference. You weren’t a stereotype by any means, your own height being on the upper end of ‘normal’ for an Omega, but this Alpha was huge. Easily over six feet. They weren’t slim either, having enough muscle to give you ideas about what those arms could do.

A waiter comes by, and you ask for water. God, but don’t you need water right now.

Conversation is slow to start, and your chaperone has to encourage discussion several times. Whether it’s nerves or because you just want to look at them, you aren’t even sure.

You have similar interests. The same religion. Similar political views. Really, everything is to a T as you asked on the site. Right up until you talk about home life, or rather, what you want your home to be like, after having a mate.

“No, that’s not what I’m looking for at all.”

There’s confusion, both on the Alpha and Betas faces.

“Why would you need to work? What would the point be?”

“Why shouldn’t I work? I like my job as it is.”

“But... don’t you want children?”

“Of course I do, but I’d be bored stiff just sitting at home. Especially once they’re in school.”

There was quiet. The Beta woman stands and asks to speak to you privately so as to let the Alpha think on what you’d said. Why do you feel like you’re about to be scolded?

Once you’re out of earshot, she explains.

          “I’m sorry, it’s just that most who use our service have a more... traditional approach to family. We did pick someone who seemed to be open to what you put you wanted, but... well no one’s perfect. We picked this Alpha because they checked all the other boxes. We’re typically far better, this is a bit of a disappointment on our behalf. If you’d like to end dinner early, we would understand.”

You almost want to laugh.

          “Oh no, that’s what a relationship is. It’s compromise and learning where you’re willing to move along. I do really like this one... a lot. I want to keep talking... see where we can work out... have a few more dates.”

The Beta smiles as you head back to your table to find your food is being set down. As you’re twirling a bite of pasta on a fork, the Alpha shifts position slightly.

“And when they’re still too young for school?”

You chew your food, swallowing before speaking and taking that time to think of a way to word your response.

“I’d always considered a nanny or babysitter, while I work from home in case anything comes up. If absolutely necessary I can leave my current job and move on to consultation work. It typically pays better but it’s less steady. That could actually be ideal for raising children. I won’t ask you to work less and watch them, it’s something I do want to do, but I enjoy my work.”

“Could you pick it back up when they’re grown? You’re very young still, by the time a brood of pups is grown and out you’ll still be prime to work full time.”

You take several more bites of your food. You did like the thoughts of staying home. You always wondered if there was something genetic about it, or if it was personality, or perhaps the way you were raised, but you, even while working, had thought the idea of working once they were out of the picture could work. Hearing it mirrored here wasn’t the worst result.

“It’s something to think about. This is only our first date.”

The Alpha gives a grin, just a touch of that feralness that all Alphas seem capable of producing.

“And our next date?”

You give a glance to the Beta, who gives a small shrug and nod.

“I’m free Wednesday?”

“Wednesday it is.”

[just-hazardous-thoughts]

This is an important post

Low self-esteem

I guess I identify myself as kinda ugly these days and don’t even see how can someone be attracted to me, so that I’d never be able to find someone as attractive as I have the attention of now. Does this sentence makes sense? By no mean does it mean I feel unattractive or ugly most of the time. If anything I always thought I fell under the average+ category. I do feel confident when wearing my best clothes and makeup, I do feel sexy and desirable, but only when prepped. Friends often told me I was attractive and stuff. The rest of the time, I feel like I’m so low on the scale tho. I do rate high how people perceive and judge me. It’s a big pressure on my life. I only get "unprepared" (natural) with the people I’m comfortable with, so my family and my best friends basically. Otherwise, I don’t feel confident enough.

Beyond attractiveness, stands my whole being and I don’t have a low self-esteem globally. It’s really about "beauty". Otherwise, I do feel competent, appreciated, smart even, and interesting. I’m not trying to inflate my ankles but I definitely have a personality, I have shit ton of interests and I can keep a conversation going. I don’t feel like a boring person. But I can be for some people. Not everyone matches together - I’m talking relationships globally, not especially dating.

Dating chaos

I’ve never witnessed my parents in love. Love has always and will always be something weird in my family and my upbringing. I truly think it affected me, us, my brother and I. Since we’ve never dated someone, like, both of us - not us together, duh. I think it tells something. It’s not an exact science, some people come from the same place and have no trouble in their dating life, but clearly, not our case, not my case.

My "whole" dating tryouts have been weird as fuck. Just really a shamble of concepts and fantasies but never romanced. Always been down-to-earth in my opinion.

Long story short, it started young when you don’t even understand shit, and it went on with being close to a friend in 6th grade and thinking of "falling in love". Kinda crazy when you’re young and you think you have such a grasp of love, like you’re so sure that you are in love with this one or this one but it’s so not that. It’s just naive. And innocent. But yeah, I don’t really take that into account.

Then my first date ever was at the cinema with a friend of mine, whom I knew had "feelings" or at least an interest in me, and I had none. But I said yes, cause I wanted to see through it you know? Like if I accept, and I go, how will it happen? Will I fall in love? I guess that’s where it started to get all weird for me. It was, or at least at the time, the worst date of my life. Was stressing the whole movie, didn’t want to be here, kept a wall around myself to protect me from him, and just wanted to go home. So yeah, bad experience.

Then I just stopped I guess? And went my whole years through graduation with no events, just me keeping to myself. At times, wondering about attractions to this guy or another, but never something to be pursued.

Onwards to post high-school and higher studies. First fucking year, first fucking crush ever. That was insane and hardcore. Think I wrote about it here. It was like being struck and paralysed in life, revolving around that one person, that you don’t even know. Complete stranger and yet having so much power over your life. We weren’t even friends. Just in the same classes, hanging out with the same people, and I was finding him so attractive. He was built like a greek god and I felt so shy around him. And there were these weird signs and tensions and it was so weird. Texting with him was awful. Full-blown mind games, heartbreaking moments of despair, ghosting, going back to texting, whatever you name it. Didn’t make any sense. I don’t wanna revisit that too much, but it was never meant to work. It was just my first crush and that was a weird experience. And I associate it to "being crazy" for someone in a way? Something I forgot with time, as of right now. Definitely peak of my so called "dating" life / experiences.

Then it calmed. Till I graduated and started working in a company. And I did the one thing you should never do, but I guess it made me learn stuff so it’s always for the taking. "Dating" a coworker. I always put quote around dating, cause I don’t consider I’ve ever been in a relationship and it was more like, exploring. I made a lot of posts here about that so won’t come back on it, especially because I’m fine with it being buried in the past, but that was also important for me cause that’s the most dates I’ve had with a guy. And I remember, even if I wasn’t physically attracted to him, it was nice to hang out with him. I remember having butterflies in my stomach after our first date in a park, and smiling the all way home. I miss that. Not him, but that feeling, that sensation.

Since then, it feels I’ve lost it. After him, I went on six dates at most I’d say? Always first dates, never beyond. And never felt compelled to go farther. That’s when I started to think, I was dysfunctional. That something was wrong with me. Am I broken? Why is it all so weird for me? And why does it seem so easy for everyone else I know or strangers on the internet? It’s troubling.

I’ve always learnt something from my dates tho. Not enlightening and life-changing but, you kinda always take something home with you to feed your mind. With some we vibes, with some we didn’t and it was awful, but my main issue was physical attraction you know.

The 2019 to now question, is, can I feel physically attracted to someone? It’s not like I ever dated downright "ugly" (by standards and my type) guys. They were all kinda ok - to have went this far even.

On another note, I do know the feeling of love tho, so not a total lost cause. I do love my family. I think that’s love, I identify it as such at least. Same for my best friends, but even then, it’s hard to say, cause they’ve been around for so long. What is even love at that point? How do you describe that shit. It’s not even like I long for it? I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’m a dysfunctional human being.

Lost and confused

Overall, I’m at a weird place in my life. It’s not recent, it’s been a few years. I’m not talking about depression or something weighing heavily on me. But I think, my posts are enough evidence to point out how lost, confused and overthinking I can be. There are good days, bad days, neutral days, but they all have something in common: my life ideology revolving around a conceptual nihilism but not an applied one. It’s a state of my mind. Life is so damn complicated, with no manual, and no guidance. You’re always alone. So of course, you have, I mean, I have, my family, my friends, they’ve always been around at the most needed times to answer my questions and concerns, but deep down, it goes beyond that - what I’m talking about. I can never make myself clear about that, it’s in my head. That’s the issue. Life is so hard to live.

Recently I wished, another me could take care of some stuff while the "real" / current me, would nap in my own mind and come back once it’s done so I don’t have to deal with it. It’s so weird. Don’t ask.

I don’t want to end my life. I’m too selfish for that, it’s not even about others, it’s about me. Life is worth living for the experiences there is to live. It’s undeniable to me. But it’s so frustrating to always be on the edge, not knowing how to act, how to live. I’m fine with not seeing what’s around the corner, cause that’s my motto, YOLO. It’s fine, just take things as they are. But even like this, without trying to think too much, I obviously do and I’m still lost and confused. Makes me thing of DAZED & CONFUSED by Die Antwoord - even though the lyrics are unrelated to all this.

About loneliness

Sometimes it’s fine, I’m a lonely being at heart. I enjoy my "me" time. I don’t need constant social interactions, I’m fine cocooning with myself, playing, watching stuff, reading. I’m not in distress over that, and I can go on for long periods of time.

But sometimes it’s not. Sometimes loneliness creeps in, and it overshadows all that. And it’s like my mind whispering something about it, and that it’s not ok. And that’s why I love my social life too. I love going out, partying, drinking, talking. I’m not an extrovert by no mean. I’m socially awkward, I’m shy, I cringe at myself, but I overthrow all that when out in the open. I wear my mask of confidence and it works. Only when I’m all alone with myself again, I wince at stuff that I said, how I acted, but it’s alright.

Like I said, I can go months feeling ok about being on my own but all it takes, is that one evening, that one night, when it doesn’t feel right.

And that’s when I think about dating. Finding someone, not being on my own forever, having someone to share everything with but, as edgy as it sounds, I feel like I’m so complex that I could never find a partner to solve my jigsaw.

I just think about all my friends, being in a relationship, and how left out I am and out of touch in some topics of life with them cause I’ve never experienced them. So there’s a whole part missing that I can’t interact with.

And it’s fine as long as it’s a fantasy you know, but then, doing the actual bidding, and actual dating, is frightening and terrifying despite me, trying not to be scared and going the flow, my body and my mind are just screaming for help.

Sexual uncertainties

So, lost my V card, fairly recently, so it’s all confusing times. But I guess I feel insecure, obviously inexperienced and it weighs on me. My first sexual experience was, weird, unsatisfying, unimpressive and left me thinking maybe I was even more dysfunctional than I thought.

Will I grow to love it and appreciate it? Was it just that one time that was bad? There’s so many questions that stresses the hell out of me. And right now, my body is in agony. That fellow stress coursing through your veins when thinking about all that stuff, just like before presenting in front of a jury, a job interview or a first date.

2021 is UGH. I don’t know how else to describe it. 21 days in and I’m full of stress, uncertainties, awkwardness and confusion. I can add a long list of words to that but I guess, those are the main points.

But you know what’s weird about all that is that, ooooh taboo, but like many - almost everyone - I do masturbate and I do enjoy it on my own. I know my body. And though I have weird tendencies that I can’t explain and won’t, I can’t understand why my first sexual experience was what it was. Must be tricks of the mind. But truly made me question if I’m asexual, aromantic, greysexual, demisexual or whatnot but I can’t have an answer unless I explore it more I guess.

I think that sums up a lot of important shit about me, or at least, how I view things at the moment, these past years, right now. That’s, that’s what’s going on. It’s a mess, for me. It’s always me, my diary, my thoughts. It’s insignificant to others.

[princepestilence]

all of the evens!

Oh, wow, okay. This is way more than I was expecting, so I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll pick the ones I like best and answer those. 

What’s your “type”?  

This is maybe the most difficult question to answer! I don’t think I have a type, so much as a whole jumble of traits I find attractive. I also think that’s normal and that having a distinct “type” is… kind of a weird concept. 

Something I would really like in someone, though, is a bit of whimsy. More than anything else, I think my heart really wants someone who will yes, and in the adventure of my life. Someone clever, and confident, and interesting, and kind.  

If you do [want kids], will you adopt or use some other form of child birth?

I don’t want kids, and I never have. I suspect that’s one of the reasons why I’m drawn to teaching: it’s a parenting substitute, sort of? But if for some reason I change and I felt my family was incomplete without a kid to care for (although I don’t think that’s ever going to be a strong feeling for me? it hasn’t been so far), I would consider fostering or adoption. I’m uncomfortable with the idea of bringing another person into the world at this stage. I think there is a duty of care towards people who are already here and making a child, when there’s so many kids already alive without stable homes, feels sort of… wrong, given the state of the world and the uncertainty of our future. Maybe that’s just because I think genetic relatedness is greatly overrated. I’ve also been editing an academic book on IVF and other assisted birth technology for the last eight months or so and now I know more than I ever thought I’d know on that front, and some of it is horrible. 

Opinion on nap dates?

It depends! Dating someone–especially at the start–is about getting to know that person, and so if the choice was between going for a walk together, or playing a game, or going to see a movie and then out to dinner afterwards, or having a nap together, I’d pick the nap as the option I’m least interested in. That’s not to say you can’t go for a walk and then come home for a nap (that sounds nice). But the idea of a date that’s mostly sleeping is boring to me, and a waste of an opportunity. If I like someone, I actually want to spend time with them and talk to them as much as possible. Their company is precious to me. Once you’re more comfortably together, that’s the right time for sleeping and more casually enjoying being in each other’s space. 

What’s a turn off you look for before you start officially dating someone?

I’ve had an unfortunate track record with some of the people who’ve been attracted to me in the past, so these days I’m pretty wary when people I don’t know well already are into me. The big flag I look out for now is how well they handle boundaries–in setting their own and respecting mine. If someone’s too quick to overshare details or seek emotional support (especially through self-deprecating talk) or in any way makes me feel grabbed at and claustrophobic, my new rule is to bolt at once. 

What is a piece of advice you would give to your younger self?

1. You don’t owe people your time, your attention, or your warmth, just because they’re lonely and sad and you’re there and don’t know how to say no. 

2. You can’t save anyone. 

3. If your time with someone leaves you hungrier for love than your time alone, something is very wrong. Things won’t get better. There is no better place waiting for you here. Winter will last until the end of time once you’ve shown you can live on nothing but winter. 

4. You deserve more than scraps of love. 

Who is one person you would “go straight” for?

I’m not… interested in straight people, actually. Everyone I’ve ever been interested in has been queer, often without me finding out until sometime after I’ve developed feelings for them (or, in the case of people who I never found out for sure, they were significantly enough queer-coded for me to make an educated guess). Bi people are often have to describe their attractions by gender–i.e., attracted to male, female, and other–but that’s not especially accurate or useful in my opinion, because for me, gender is defined in my orientation by inconsistency. There’s no pattern, no real relevance. Gender is like eye colour, or height. But queerness is something that’s shown up in every single person I’ve liked. So, basically, straightness/non-queerness is itself a turn off. Even when I’m with a girl, we’re both queer and that’s a feature of the attraction and relationship, not a coincidence.

Are you out? If so, how did you come out?

I’m not not-out. I live the way I want: I paint my nails, I wear earrings, I’m growing my hair long, I wear what I want to wear and what I feel good in. When I’m in a friendly group and we’re talking and the topic of queer stuff comes up, I’ll weigh in and share what I think, if I have any thoughts or observations. If someone mentions that someone is good-looking and I think so too, I’ll agree with them. I live as myself, which is to say, queerly. 

But I don’t preface anything I say or do with, “As a queer guy,” and I don’t describe myself as bi (except when talking with all my bi friends), because I prefer never to have to make like, a mission statement about who I am. I don’t like that “coming out” is for straight people’s benefit. I don’t like that there’s a culture of expectation that queer people have to announce their existence to exist in straight vision. I am already out and about in the world. I’m not hiding anything. 

There’s no such thing as one coming out event, unfortunately. It’s a lifelong series of coming outs, to everyone you meet. I’ve chosen not to do that, in every way I can. Straight people can speculate as much as they like, but that’s their choice. I’m just existing. If they want to make it into a puzzle to solve, so be it. Maybe in the future I’ll feel differently about this, but right now, I resent the entire concept of “coming out” and I like people being uncertain about me.  

What is a piece of advice for people who may not be in a safe place to express their sexuality?

You have time. Straight culture has a series of romantic milestones and pretends that this is normal and attainable for everyone, but it’s not. Queer people don’t have the same freedom to talk about their crushes in high school, or explore their identity, or practice “going out” before starting university or whatever comes next after graduation. It’s harder to find people–let alone people you really like and connect with–and the options open to straight people for meeting up, flirting, dating, hooking up, asking people out, whatever else, don’t always feel safe for us. It’s wrong. But it’s also not the end. Life’s not over for you, just because you haven’t been able to follow the straight path. 

You might not get a chance to date someone until you’re in your twenties, and that’s okay. You might not have your first kiss until you go to university. It’s not a big deal. Straight culture obsesses over the idea of being “pathetic” for not doing certain things by certain times in your life, but that–like most straight culture things–is self-destructive, harmful nonsense. Your milestones will be sacred to you whenever they happen. Please endure until you reach them. Don’t let fear and loneliness trick you into reckless, desperate, or unsafe decisions either, because fear that something won’t happen only lasts until it does happen but regret over something you did can last forever after. 

I know that finding the love you’re looking for can feel impossible. But the way I see it is this: you’re going to live anyway, so you might as well live in hope. 

[god-hunter]

All Over the Place w/ Nowhere to Go

Hey Tumblr,

I suppose it’s time to talk about Covid-19.  I’m really scared about what’s happening in the World right now and it’s absolutely affected every aspect of my Social Life at this point.  I’m not going to work anymore, although I do still technically have a job, of which I’m grateful.  However, how long that job will actually last is up to debate.  It’s a Process Serving Company.  Ya know, for when people get served papers for not paying their bills on time?  Yeeeeeeahhhh... that’s not exactly essential at this time of year.  

Yet, my company has ignored all the warnings, had us come in, attempted a work from home option, but didn’t offer it to many of us.  My boss even approached me about doing something different during this strange transition, and I said yeah, but nothing on that has resurfaced.  Instead another week went by where my work was dwindling and getting slower and slower.  There were a few boring and empty days, meanwhile other people were lamenting about lay offs. That put me in a weird place.  Then, they eventually asked if we’d be comfortable to still come in on Monday - [This past Monday 3/23] and at first I said yeah, but then I thought about my current situation at home and had to make a hard moral choice. It was absolutely the right thing to do.

For the moment, I currently live with my parents again.  And the more I go into work, the more I risk bringing home the virus to my parents, who are absolutely in the demographic of being very weak and prone to the infection.  I’d never be able to live with myself if something happened to them.  I’m trying desperately to get out of there, but Covid-19 is interrupting that, for the time being.  So I spoke with my Mom about it and at first she told me to do what feels right. I told her, I’m either not going to work, or I’m moving in to this new place before it’s ready.  She eventually conceded that even under the best of conditions, it’s always hard to go through a move.  And when it comes to work, no amount of money is worth the risk of what these stakes are.  Like I said, if anything happened to them, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

....and now a Co-worker just forwarded me an e-mail which basically says that they need to lower wages and/or cut work hours based on the minimal work that’s coming in at this time.  What the FUCK Man!!!  Just let us go at this point!

Regardless either way I slice it, technically I don’t have insurance anymore.  So that’s just great.  I’m literally processing that right now as of a minute ago.  I am absolutely getting my Meds TOMORROW.  And I’ll just see if it’s the usual price or the absolute rip-off that I remember from years ago.

FUCK!  And here all I wanted to do was complain about my Ex and talk about girls.  Now none of that fucking matters anymore.  Literally right before this, I was lamenting about how my Ex is upset with me because I deleted all of our pictures from Facebook.  Except with Facebook, it’s never really deleted.  Anything on FB that you were tagged in, is still on your page until you remove the tag or ‘Hide’ them.  Well, I’m tired of going through the emotional duress, so I decided that the public photos that I can’t touch will just remain.  At least for now.  I even read an article on FB etiquette over this thing, because I heard enough different responses that I was like, “Really???”

First of all...  Deleting photos is healthy.  Its a sign of moving on.  I just figure, save them all in a folder and be done with it.  One day I’m gonna meet a girl, and I’m not gonna want her to see all these pictures of me with my ex.  Especially if I’m gonna be dating soon.  But again, that’s where the whole Covid thing comes in to interfere.  And again, considering that it’s affected my job to this capacity, now none of that even matters.  Just another emotion I’m navigating through.

To that end, I have minimal updates on any of the girls I’m talking to, because well... there’s nothing to do.  Covid has forced me to be a shut in.  My daily schedule literally consists of getting up, having breakfast, playing video games/going for a walk (not always in that order), having lunch, being social/watching a thing (not always in that order), having dinner, putting on a movie/being social. (Again not always in that order).  I’ve been staying sane during my Quarancation.  Taking it day by day.  But today has been truly taxing on my mind.  And also, I haven’t gone for a walk yet because my feet hurt.  I literally cut up my heels walking, because the shoes somehow scrape against the back of my heel, yet are comfortable enough for typical walking/sitting.  What the Hell?

The minor updates are all online via text or FB.  So I’ll start with texting Bakery Girl.  Not much doing.  We barely talk.  I’m not getting much of a vibe from her if any.  So I’m not going out of my way to text her every night or every other day.  But when we talked last night it was primarily about work and how times is scary.  Her bakery is still open, but then we talked about my job and what little we’ve heard from people that are still in there.

Next I’ll bring up Gamer Girl.  This one already has an ending, since the last entry.  We’re just gonna be friends.  However, I’ve noticed that she likes to message me when she gets home from work and talk for the literal hour she has before she goes to bed.  I think it’s sweet, but I also don’t... care?  I dunno. It’s literally going nowhere and would’ve been a bad idea in the first place.  Still though she reminds me that we WILL do Video Games and Pizza again, and she Will come over to my new place once it’s all set to do different games with me there.  Again, I think that’s awesome.  There’s also a flirty weird vibe about her conversation.  But she already said it won’t get weird.  She has a Poly Partner she visits and that completely works for her.  So there it is.

Now I’ll actually add a new name to this list.  Let’s call her Zombie Girl.  This one is an old friend, whom I met when I was 15.  She was way older and never on my radar.  In fact... I was illegal. o.o But fast forward to when I was like 24 or something, I definitely did a lot of theatre gigs on drums, while she acted.  Didn’t think much of anything with her, but she was always nice and silly to talk to.  One random cast party, she was absolutely all over me, drinking, talking and just hanging around me all night.  There might’ve been arm over the shoulder stuff, but nothing serious.  Then, when we said goodnight, she walked me to my car and was drunk enough to not give a fuck and kiss me goodnight right on the lips. I remember saying, “Goodnight Zombie,”  [Insert real name there] and that was the end of the flirtship.  I was not into her, man.  I didn’t want to do that and make it super weird. The friendship remained, however. She met someone, I met someone and 5 years went by with barely any talking!  Now however, with all of this Covid loneliness, I looked at old conversations, even when we were just friends.  And they were absolutely flirty.  And I just missed her, so... we’re talking again. Its absolutely nothing.  Just a lot of catching up and shooting the shit out of boredom.  She completely understood not keeping in touch though as we’ve both been in relationships.  As far as hanging out is concerned, right before Covid got grimly serious, she mentioned that she was interested in “shenanigans” with me.  She desperately wanted to get out of the house too, whether that would happen or not.  Now its absolutely not happening however, because everyone’s basically shut in right now. Now I’ll bring up a more significant friend.  This one I’ll call Canada Girl.  Similar year - back in 2013/2014, we had very flirty chemistry online.  This one went to High School with me.  She was a Freshman when I was a Senior and I didn’t pay her much mind.  When I was 24 though, she was 20.  Not a bad age difference.  But enough of one.  She had moved to Canada at some point, but was actually in town.  And I remember completely flaking on her when she wanted me to save her from being at her Grandma’s.  That was stupid. She absolutely broke up with her boyfriend too and went to a party where she just wanted to get fucked up and have a good time.  ::snaps fingers::  But I wasn’t into it at the time.  Whatever I was doing, it clearly was more important to me than randomly catching up and trying my luck with her. Now, however the story is once again different.  She actually hit Me up on Facebook and we had a good talk.  We both apologized for not keeping in touch, and there is already light flirty chemistry, but for the most part it’s very normal.  I won’t lie to you.  It was even like, a week before my Ex and I got together that we were pseudo-porn sharing on FB.  I mean, we got that weird with each other. So who the fuck knows?

And speaking of Porn Sharing, I was starting to think that my time with the Significant Party of the Significant Couple was a one-time only.  But nah, man.  For the past 2 nights we’ve been giving each other attention of the stimulating variety, and it was more than appreciated on my end.  I’m still so grateful to have that person in my life.  Lately I’ve been a moody shit, and it pleases me that they get it.  I’ve certainly been there for them.  So I like that they can handle me when I’m not at my best.  And I certainly don’t take it out on them.  Instead this is a very chill, ‘there when ya need me’ kind of relationship.  I’m really getting used to it, and it hasn’t gotten weird at all with the other person in the Significant Party.

It’s almost needless to talk about why I’ve been Moody.  It’s literally everything, dude.  Navigating the aftermath of this Relationship bothers me.  I’m over it.  I’m getting over it.  But I’m not fully out of it yet.  What I mean is, my stuff is still there.  Not all of it.  Just the tough stuff, like my furniture.  So I need to eventually get it out of there.

But that can’t happen until my place is ready.  Of which it isn’t yet.  Almost, but not quite.  Estimated time is 3/31-4/3.  If I’ve given any updates, the carpets were installed on 3/23, which is a miracle, because by then, Covid had really kicked in, forcing all non-essential businesses to close.  So I’m really grateful for that.  But now my Landlord has this whole other laundry list of things he wanted to do.  Too many to list.  So I’ll just leave it with, best case, it’s ready on Tuesday the 31st, or Friday the 3rd.  That’s really not terrible at all.

My next move was gonna be to get my friends to help me get this furniture in there.  I was gonna rent a UHaul truck and just knock it out in one day.  Apparently they’re still open.  But none of my friends budged.  Covid is really shutting ALL of them in.  Even my toughest and closest friends who promised to help. Of course I’m annoyed, but I get it.  This is Literally the worst time to move.

And now of course, since deleting the FB pictures, my Ex got really upset and changed the nicknames on our chat.  I knew it was gonna happen eventually, but now she’s no longer Darling Love and the heart emoji is just a thumbs up again.  When she made the change, I gave her a thumbs up and she said nothing.  Today when I tried to talk business, she was super short, but said sure, about coming over tomorrow.  I was gonna take measurements and my TV stand to start this furniture process.  Instead, she wants to do the measurements herself, which is fine, but since I noticed the aggression, I asked if we were okay, and she let on that she was pissed about me deleting the FB pictures.  I had saved them all in a folder on Dropbox and given them to her.  They are on my computer as well.  But I don’t think she cares about that.  I think it’s more the fact that I did it without warning or consulting her about it?  Which in a way is none of her business, because it’s my profile and I need to be comfortable with the content I have on there. On the other hand, it may seem like I’m trying to erase the last 5 years of my life, but I’m honestly not.  I just... can’t look at them anymore.  Not on Facebook.  But in my own folder, I will.  In my own time, if I want to.  This is the stuff she doesn’t want to talk about.  She wants her space.  And she really doesn’t want to see me this weekend.  So she won’t.

Doesn’t change the fact that I need my TV Stand.  And the rest of my furniture.  But as her replacement one hasn’t come in yet and my place isn’t ready yet, we can push that back for another week.  Her replacement TV stand should come in on 4/3, which is the latest my place will be ready, possibly.

So now I have some things to mull over.  But definitely it seems like whatever I do, my next move is gonna involve getting Movers to help me with this stuff, if any are in operation right now. My friends would absolutely help, but Covid... I honestly expect the same answer from any of the Movers.  And if that’s the case, I’m gonna be pissed, because then I truly am stuck...

But then, considering this new information about how my Job is truly going in the shitter now?...  Maybe stuck with my parents is exactly where I need to be at the moment...  I’m gonna be without insurance now, for who knows how fucking long.

I have money...  I can afford my meds.  But God damn, does that suck.

So yeah...  This is a really fucked up time.  So it was time for an update.

[mirajens]

Lauren

rating: t characters: jellal, seigrain, mystogan, anna, acnologia, erza genre: family, humor accompaniment to Seigrain in Lutalica

“Lauren is not a thing, mom, she’s an alligator snapping turtle and she has feelings.”

“Hey, Jellal.”

Jellal turned his head from the selection of pastries in the refrigerator and came face to face with two boys who looked just like him, sounded just like him. Everything was odd, or maybe just because they looked alike, from the devious smiles on Mystogan and Seigrain’s lips, the excited gleam in their eyes, the manic energy eking from their flesh. Jellal’s face took on a cautious, almost scared look. His brothers liked to drag him into the trouble they find; Mystogan unconsciously and Seigrain aggressively consciously.

“What? You’re not gonna make me eat all the Gummyvits again, are you?” Jellal asked. He remembered how mad mom had been, and didn’t want a repeat.

Seigrain rolled his eyes. “No. And shut up, you didn’t even get to eat five because you were too slow!”

Mystogan shook his head. “We have something to show you but you can’t tell mom.”

“Why not?”

“No, you have to promise first or we won’t show you and it’s awesome.” Seigrain insisted.

“Okay, fine. What is it?”

Mystogan lead the way up to the third floor bathroom the three of them shared. Seigrain entered first, his grin wide and scary. He stood by the bath tub and gestured grandly. Jellal was almost afraid to look. It might be a dead body like in that gore flick they watched in secret.

He was right to be afraid. Jellal didn’t know what he was looking at. The water in their tub was murky and it held an ugly creature that looked like Freddy Kreuger. Jellal shivered. Mystogan came to stand beside him and smiled upon the thing.

“What is that?” Jellal asked.

“This is Lauren.” Seigrain replied. No one offered any more information, as if that was sufficient enough. Jellal looked to Mystogan questioningly.

“Lauren is an alligator snapping turtle. I found her in the back yard near the tomatoes.”

“Alligator?” Jellal squeaked. It kind of looked like an alligator, just in the sense that it looked mean. It didn’t look like a turtle at all.

“Mmhmm. So be careful with your fingers. Lauren bites. She bit me here so I learned my lesson.” Seigrain said, brandishing his bandaged palm.

Jellal gasped. “Evil!”

“Nuh-uh!” Seigrain scowled. “Lauren is not bad, that’s just the way she was made. Animal In-sinks.”

“Instincts.” Mystogan corrected.

“Right.” Seigrain nodded. “Lauren didn’t mean to hurt me. She loves me. She doesn’t know any better and we have to love her for who she is.”

Easily convinced, Jellal nodded, mirroring his brother. He was always quick to placate. “I get it. I’m sorry, Lauren.” Jellal crouched beside the bathtub and watched Lauren swim and felt himself get enamored faster than a crash. “What do we feed her?”

“I read that we can feed her worms and bugs when she’s still this small. But she has to keep a balanced diet so I’ll have to procure more sustenance for her.” Mystogan pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Same as the other two boys, his eyes followed Lauren swim across the bathtub as if they were hypnotized by a pendant. “Lauren is probably about seven years old, judging from her size. I’ll have to measure her more accurately and read up on it some more.”

“When do you think her birthday is?” Jellal asked.

Mystogan shrugged. “We should just make it today. Lauren deserves a birthday.”

Seigrain’s mouth fell into an awed o and his eyes shone. “Happy birthday, Lauren.”

“I’ll get her a cake!!!” Jellal shrieked as he ran downstairs, back to the refrigerator.

In the end, Jellal chose a large square of chocolate chunk brownie and Seigrain found an old birthday candle in his cabinets. They watched Mystogan demonstrate the proper way to handle Lauren as he took her out of the bathtub and set her on the floor in front of the birthday brownie. Seated around their beloved with their legs in pretzels, they sang Lauren a hushed birthday song, lest mom hear and get too curious.

.

.

.

The peace did not last long in the Fernandes home. It only took Anna 4 days after Lauren’s birthday celebration to find the boys’ dirty (really dirty) little secret and call her husband in hysterics.

“There is a- a thing in the boys’ bathtub!” Anna cried into the phone.

“Lauren is not a thing, mom, she’s an alligator snapping turtle and she has feelings.” Seigrain said with his arms crossed, having missed the memo that when mom was upset, the children hung their heads and did not talk back. All the fight died in him when Anna aimed a sharp look at him.

“An alligator snapping turtle, apparently.” Anna corrected. She could hear Acnologia sigh over the line. “Are those legal here?”

“Call pest control, amor. I’ll be home in an hour and then I’ll deal with the boys.”

Anna hung up, then turned to her sons. “Dad says get rid of it. I’ll be calling animal control.”

On cue, the boys unleashed their meltdowns. Anna heard a lot of shrill NO or PLEASE and sobbing that she could tell was fake. Three pairs of arms grabbed at her, one encircled around her waist, one around her ribs from behind, one around her legs. A contingency attack of cute against the parents, tried and tested for the best results.

“PUH-LEASE, MOM,” cried Jellal on the fakest sniveling ever recorded in the history of snivels. “WE’LL TAKE CARE OF LAUREN.”

“Ohana means family!” Mystogan said, his thin arms doing a good job constricting around her ribs. “Nani didn’t take Stitch away even though Stitch was worse than Lauren.”

“Mom, PLEASE DON’T LET THE ANIMAL GUYS KILL LAUREN.”

Jellal’s head snapped back from where it was burrowed into her belly. “YOU’RE GONNA LET THEM KILL LAUREN, MOM?”

For nine year old boys, their shrieking was still considerably high pitched. Anna sighed when their panic rose, and wondered why her children were so dramatic. Acnologia said it was because they were half Latin.

“No one’s killing Lauren!” she said in an exasperated tone. “But we can’t keep her, boys. This can’t be legal. You can’t keep animals in bath tubs.” Another thought occurred to her. “Where have you been showering?” The boys’ bathroom didn’t have a shower separated from the tub and all the other bathrooms in the house were unlocked just for guests.

“Seigrain still has dry shampoo left from summer camp, and we asked Jamima for baby wipes.” Mystogan gestured to the can of powdered shampoo and large pack aloe vera wipes on their counter.

Anna felt herself die a little inside. “So you’ve been housing a snapping turtle and not showering?”

Jellal knew his mother’s angry tone when he heard it, and he almost wept for real for it. “We’re sorry, mommy! It’s not Lauren’s fault! She’s not bad, she was just made that way! She’s a good girl!”

“The best girl.” Seigrain said. “We’re sorry, mom. Mystogan has been reading up on houses for Lauren so we can shower again.”

“It’s called an outdoor habitat.” He uncoiled his limbs around his mother and stepped back. “We can save our lunch money and make it ourselves. I’m talking to someone on this forums and he’s telling me how I can make an adequate pond habitat with just a kiddie pool or a large basin.”

“We’ll be responsible!” Jellal translated.

Anna would not be swayed. “We can’t keep Lauren. She’s dangerous. I’ll wait for your father to get home so he can call animal control. No more playing with Lauren, especially touching her. If someone loses a finger, you’re all grounded.”

She wriggled out of their constraints and told them to drain the tub before she left.

.

.

.

Acnologia found them just before dinner time. The bath tub was clean and Lauren was in the sink. Seigrain and Jellal flanked Mystogan as he fed Lauren worms they’d dug up from the compost. Acnologia’s heart jumped when he heard the snap of its beak and prayed fervently that all of his sons’ fingers were still intact or else all his hard work on his wife would be out the window.

“Is this Lauren?” Acnologia asked when he finally stood near enough to watch the feeding process. His pulse raced yet again when Lauren’s head moved slow in the way predators did, just before clamping down on the stick of zucchini Mystogan offered.

“We’re trying to spend all the time we have left with her.” Jellal told him. “Before you take her away and we live a life of loneliness.”

Acnologia barely resisted rolling his eyes. He placed a hand on the crown of Jellal’s head. “Ay, hijo, you are too young to be talking so morose.”

“Jellal isn’t talking morse, dad, you need a walkie talkie to do that.” Seigrain said.

Mystogan scoffed. “Morose means sad, Seig.”

“Smarty-pants.”

“How do you know Lauren is a girl?” Acnologia interrupted before the back and forth could escalate.

“What do turtle dongs look like?”

“Jellal, don’t say dong.”

“Sorry, dad, I meant penis.”

“I checked the underside of her shell. You can tell the difference by the shape of it.” Mystogan explained. He reached for another wiggling worm and dangled it in front of Lauren. Acnologia tried not to grimace.

“We’re you boys honest with your mother when you said you would be responsible?”

Seigrain, always quick to see the hard resolve of his parents crack, turned to face his father so fast he felt dizzy. “We can keep Lauren?”

Acnologia held a hand up. “We can talk over dinner about the extent your duties to Lauren. She will be your pet, not your mother’s, not the maids’, not anyone else’s. Pets are not something you acquire when you’re bored and cast away when you decide is it too much responsibility for you to handle.”

Mystogan gasped. “We would never cast Lauren away! We love her!”

Acnologia managed to keep his groan internal. “I want you to commit to taking care of Lauren. We will help you, but only when we see you taking initiative. When you stop being responsible, we will cease to help you and you’re on your own. The animal police will come for you, you know?”

Seigrain puffed out his cheeks. “Why’re you only looking at me, dad!”

Acnologia blinked. “No, I wasn’t. I was talking to all of you.”

Jellal cut in, “WE GET TO KEEP LAUREN!” His brothers’ excited yelling rebounded in the tiled room. Then, three small bodies were jumping and running around before Jellal put the tub’s drain plug back and opened the tap and Mystogan grabbed the sides of Lauren’s shell and lifted her Lion King style.

Acnologia hoped he wouldn’t regret it, but he was pretty sure he would someday. Maybe when he was in the ER with at least one child for a snapping turtle bite.

He told the boys to calm down and come to dinner, but he was ignored. Bemused, he left to join Anna downstairs, thinking that his sons were way too young to be ignoring their father in favor of a girl.

.

.

.

Bliss persisted even a couple of years after Lauren’s acceptance into the Fernandes household. The habitat the boys made for her was not too shabby even though they did take a lot of the plants and rocks from the front lawn’s landscaping and dug a shallow pit for the thick basin right in the middle of the back yard. Anna helped them make an animal proof fence from chicken wire and wood and Acnologia bought them minnows to keep in an aquarium to feed her.

Anna disliked Lauren. It brought her just a bit of shame to admit it because her sons clearly loved the ugly creature, but there was just something menacing about Lauren’s face. She could tell Lauren knew she didn’t like her, too. Lauren wore a smug look on her beak when the boys flocked around her and ignored Anna.

One night, when the boys were asleep, Anna padded down to the kitchen for the moist chocolate cake she’d been saving since lunch. All three kids and her husband at some point have asked her for it but she’d been firm that it was hers and that her wrath would be uncontested if she found even a bite out of it. The cake was reserved for her downtime when everyone was in bed and she could look at her empty house and imagine that aliens had taken her family and she could eat in peace, preferably with three glasses of wine.

Anna selected Chianti from the wine fridge and made her way to the cake. Movement by the corner of the island counter made her stop in her tracks and a scream bubble up at her throat. Lauren stood just by the doors of the refrigerator, her mouth open wide to show a fleshy mouth ready for devouring whatever appendages it would get to bite off Anna.

They stood there in a bad imitation of a Mexican Standoff, Anna radiating disdain and fear while Lauren basked in her smugness like the evil demon that she was.

“Hey mom, did you seeꟷ There you are, Lauren.” Mystogan came into the kitchen and picked Lauren up by the shell. Lauren closed her beak and retracted her extended neck in a less threatening demeanor. “Sorry, we were watching Harry Potter in the library and I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m gonna put her out now, but you should be careful in the night, mom. You might step on Lauren or something. Good night!”

Anna couldn’t quite reply as she watched her eldest go out through the back door and sweet talk his pet as he set her down in the turtle pen. She wondered if it was too dramatic to say that Lauren was tearing her family apart.

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.

The time came for Lauren to be liberated when the boys were fourteen and Lauren had clearly outgrown her tight habitat. Anna was adamant that they could do no expansions in the back yard and Acnologia agreed.

“We can donate her to the butterfly farm but that’s 20 minutes from here. Or we can set her free by the creek. At least she will be nearby.” Were the options given to the boys who were devastated. Lauren walked by Mystogan’s legs.

“I’m sorry, boys, but we can’t keep her and stunt her growth. It would be cruel.” Acnologia said. “When you care for someone, you have to do what’s best for them, even if it’s not what you want.”

Mystogan blinked burning eyes. “You’re right, dad.” He turned to his brothers. “The creek? At least we’ll be able to see her from time to time.”

So they released her to the creek. None of the three identical pairs of eyes were dry as they watched Lauren make the slow trek into the rocks, then settle into soft mud. Soon, the sun went down and they could see her no more. Seigrain sniffled one last time and clapped a hand on each brother’s back. “It’s for the best.”

Jellal asked, “Do you think we’ll see her again?”

“Hopefully. But if not, we can be secure in the knowledge that Lauren is in a safe place nearby.”

They went back to the main house, not excited for the prospect of cleaning up Lauren’s old home and face old memories.

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.

Seigrain stewed over his dinner as he watched Jellal lean close to Erza and whisper something that made her laugh. He’s had such a bad day with his car breaking down and having to walk back home and then getting a ride back to the car to tow it to the garage. He didn’t need to see this.

He was just about to snap the classic “get a room,” when the back door burst open and Mystogan came in, panting, glasses askew, color high on his cheeks.

“Come outside. Lauren’s back.”

“Back?” Jellal echoed?

“Who is Lauren?” Erza asked, but no one answered; Seigrain and Jellal bolted for the back entrance.

She got up and followed them outside and found three heads of blue hunched over a mound of… something. Erza approached and tried to figure out what she was looking at.

“Uh…” Was all she could say.

“Holy fuck,” Seigrain whispered in awe, his voice watery.. Was he crying? Erza squinted to check.

“Oh my God, Lauren.” Jellal said in an equally choked voice. “How have you been, sweet girl? How long has it been?”

“It’s been almost two years.” Mystogan, too, sounded touched. It was probably the first time Erza has heard him speak with feeling. “Look how big you are.” He tried to lift her by the shell and grunted. “Heavy, too. Pretty girl. Look at you.”

Erza felt it was time to speak. “What is Lauren?” A mistake, probably. She looked like a turtle but… wrong.

“Lauren is the best girl ever. She was our pet but we had to set her free because she was getting big.” Love shone in Jellal’s eyes and Erza could say she’s never been the recipient of such a look.

“She’s Jellal’s first love.” Seigrain teased with a grin.

“All of ours, probably.” Mystogan said with his own smile.

“Lauren is an alligator snapping turtle.”  Jellal finally said.

“Oh, okay. I’ve never seen one before. Does she have a different diet than a normal snapping turtle?” As in, was Lauren a carnivore?

Erza was ignored. The boys had their phones out, taking all kinds of commemorative proof of Lauren, who was clearly satisfied with all the affection. At some point, Mystogan made another run inside the house and came back out with some vegetables and a long metal kebab. He put a bunch of grapes on one end and waited. The boys cheered when she snapped her beak shut and crushed the grapes.

Jellal stood up. “I’ll go find some lizards inside.”

“Wh- Lizards?” Erza squawked, still ignored as Jellal was already sprinting halfway to the house.

“It’s okay to feel the way you feel, Erza.” Seigrain said, finally putting his phone back in his pocket after sending his parents a picture of the prodigal pet and slung an arm around Erza. “It’s normal that you’ll feel inferior to the first love. If I were you, I’d preserve my dignity and break up with Jellal first before he can.”

“You’re nuts, Seigrain.” Erza huffed, shaking his hand off her shoulder.

“Nuts, sure. I can classify as ‘rebound’, too, if you like. It’s okay to find comfort in someone else in trying times like this.”

“Hilarious.” Jellal said, finally back with a can. Erza hoped there wasn’t actually a lizard in there. “You classify as ‘barking up the wrong tree’, too. I couldn’t find a lizard but I took dad’s worms.” The superworms Acnologia kept for his prized arowana.

“That’s fine. I can buy some fish tomorrow before school.” Mystogan said.

Lauren was gone come morning, but no one was too sad with the promise of another opportunity. If Lauren came home once, she’d do it again.

Lauren visited every few months, more commonly during the rainy season, much to the ecstasy of her fans. They kept earthworms nearby, just in case.

.

.

.

“Mom, over here!” Seigrain called from the creek on the edge of their property near the crops Anna kept. “I’ve been here forever. Can you take a picture of me and Lauren?”

Seigrain jutted his chin towards his phone on the rocky ground, his hands full holding both ends of Lauren’s shell.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” Anna asked as she picked up the phone and took a picture, close enough that she was distracted from her son’s beautiful smile by Lauren’s beastly face.

“Girls like it. And when they see me holding Lauren, too, it looks super badass.” Seigrain answered. “Lauren gets me a lot of numbers. She’s a great wingwoman. Totally ride of die.”

Anna didn’t even pretend to understand what the modern slang meant. “Good for you. Put your shirt back on and help me with the vegetables. Lauren and I are too old to be impressed by shirtless men.”

He set Lauren down near the shallow water but not before dropping a kiss on her shell.

“Gross, Seigrain. Don’t do that.” Anna groaned.

“Lauren is always impressed by me, mom.” Seigrain watched her waddle into the muddy water before turning to his mother.

.

.

“Are we going far, daddy?” Sofia asked. Her hand was in Seigrain’s as he led her to the creek marking the end of his parents’ land.

“No, we’re close. It’s gonna be worth it, I promise.”

During lunch, the gardener told Seigrain that he spotted a familiar visitor by the vegetable garden. Seigrain had asked Sofia if she wanted to meet an old friend of his and the little girl agreed. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he imagined how she would react to Lauren.

He could hear her before he saw her. The crunch of leaves by the tomatoes was reminiscent of her shell dragging over the surface. Seigrain saw her spiny back and nudged Sofia, directing her attention towards the turtle.

“Don’t come too close because she bites sometimes, okay?” Seigrain cleared his throat for show. “May I introduce Lauren?”

Sofia’s jaw dropped. “Hello, Lauren.” She couched low to be eye level. “She’s so big, daddy. The biggest turtle I’ve ever seen!”

“Did you know Lauren was my best friend? She was your uncles’ best friend, too.”

Sofia beamed. “Can I have a snappy turtle, too, daddy?”

Seigrain wilted. “Ah, not like Lauren, baby. Why don’t you just come over and visit her?” He couldn’t imagine keeping a snapping turtle in his two thousand dollar tub in his modern apartment.

Thankfully, Sofia nodded, smitten just as quickly as Seigrain had been back then.

note: @erzadragonborn and I talked about how the triplets keep a lot of weird/ugly pets and give them the most vanilla human names. Lauren was my favorite among them because my sister had a snapping turtle named Ne-yo that we released into the creek by our farm and he visits us once every few months and then goes back to the creek.