#its way early in the morning its probably funnier to me than what it really is

[zebrashork]

Some people think that autism makes people better at video games

Not me tho, I play like shit lmao

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s half Demon, and they look AWFULLY familiar...

‘Kay guys, I got a different kind of stupid Headcanon to throw at you. Get ready!

Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

*ahem* picture if you will, it’s the day the exchange program is set to start. The student council (nix Mr. Kill All Humans, Weeb-supreme, and our Scummy Sweetheart) have assembled to welcome the new human student. All is going according to schedule, the portal opens up at eight am sharp, they hear the pitiful screams of the selected human who was not given a heads up about the whole thing, and the poor little human falls straight onto the marble floor.

There’s something a tad... off about this human don’t you think? After they’ve peeled their sorry ass off the floor they observed the assembled student council with an air of sophistication and self importance that no one expected. Their posture was perfect, their eyes sharp and calculating... they bared a striking resemblance to-

“Lucifer,” Diavolo looked to his right hand man, then back to the human. “The human kind of looks like you!”

And out popped four pitch black wings from the human’s back and two small horns out of the sides of their head, one horn was a bit bigger than the other. They even still had some of their down feathers! How cute!

((Content warning: Swearing (I have a potty mouth, forgive me), but that’s it.))

Luci-dad

So, the MC is Lucifer’s kid! Of course Mr. Prideypants immediately tries to recall exactly what little romp in the human world uh... spawned this half-human half-demon child of his. Good thing MC’s got the other parent on speed-dial.

“Please note, MC,” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose upon hearing Asmo take even more pictures of his newly discovered hellspawn. “I was not aware of your existence, if I was I’d-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset.”

Lucifer blinked a few times in surprise. “P...pardon? You aren’t upset?”

“No, my parent told me that my father was a high ranking demon, and they bare no ill will against you. Though, I am looking forward to this whole... exchange program thing.”

Oh wow, that was easier than Lucifer thought. Damn. Well, he was a father... (let’s be real, he’s been parenting his brothers for thousands of years, and a good chunk of you sinners call him daddy)

MC is probably the most protected student at RAD, despite the fact that they have no visible security detail whatsoever. They didn’t want to be seen as... weak and pathetic.

Something about this human just... set the lesser demons on edge. Any talk of eating them was stamped out on the first day when they walked by. It’s like Lucifer himself was staring at them, daring the demons to try and bother the human. MC’s powerful presence kept them protected and feared.

...at least until dear uncle Asmo decided to do their hair one morning. All those ribbons may have looked adorable but they kind of ruined the intimidation factor.

MC loved to mess with the other students, keeping their lineage a secret for the first little while just made it so much funnier when the other demons tried to scramble out of MC’s way without looking like they were running from the ‘weak little human exchange student’.

Oh wow, what a sadist. Like father like child

Flying lessons are a must. Poor MC isn’t terribly good at controlling their wings, and their horns are still growing in so when they pop into their demon form the first thing they get is a sore skull. Ow... it sucks that Lucifer isn’t outwardly very sympathetic.

“Ow!” MC crashed face first into the grass in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. “Father! My wings are cramping! Can’t we practice this tomorrow?”

The sight of seeing his dear child crash face first into the ground had lost its hilarity after the first three times. Lucifer slowly lowered himself to the ground and crossed his arms as he stood over his incredibly grass-stained kid.

“MC, we’ve been ‘practicing this tomorrow’ for the past month. If you want to learn to fly you’re going to have to actually manage to stay in the air for more than three minutes.”

MC shot Lucifer a withering glare that only preteens were capable of, Lucifer matched it with his own much more sophisticated glare.

“You’ve been flying for over a thousand years! Don’t you have any tips that can actually help other than ‘don’t panic, you’ll look ridiculous’?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face and looked around, the two were alone as far as he could see.

“MC,” Lucifer began. “When I was a young angel, I needed to learn how to fly with someone else.”

MC perked up. “Who?”

“Michael. The smug bastard picked up flying quicker than I did.”

“What’d you do?!”

Lucifer smiled at his child’s intense investment. “I practiced flying every day for five extra hours until I could do everything that Michael could do, just better.”

MC’s starry eyed interest died almost instantly upon hearing about the extra five hours of practice. “Humph, I bet I could outfly younger you and Michael with only two hours of practice a day.”

“Really now?”

“Yes! Watch!” MC shook off their wings and took off in a running start before shakily making it into the air. Their form was decent enough, and they weren’t shaking as much as the previous attempts. “SEE?!”

“Yes MC,” Lucifer smiled. “I can see.”

You know what else Lucifer could see? MC crashing right into a tree.

“Ouch...”

Okay... maybe they could halt practice a little early and order a treat from Madame Scream’s. A little sugar to refuel is needed when the end goal is crushing a mutual rival beneath their heels. Just some good old fashioned father/child bonding time!

MC has a smaller seat right next to Lucifer’s seat in the Assembly Hall. I will not compromise on this one.

For all your fluff needs, I give you: Lucifer teaching MC how to play the piano. He has a proud little smile on his face when his kid finally starts getting it. That’s all. Enjoy the image.

That one Uncle who gives you Alcohol at Family Gatherings (Mammon)

Yeah, when Mammon burst in late to the party and whining about everyone’s spamming him with texts to haul his scummy ass to the Assembly Hall, the last thing he expected was to see a mini-Lucifer.

“What the fuck am I lookin’ at?!”

The glare the two Lucifers gave the poor Avatar of Greed was enough to make him want to turn tail (uh, wing) and book it down the hall.

“Mammon, this is MC. They’re my child.”

“Hello.”

“...whaaaa..?” Mammon looked between the two, same glare, same intimidating aura, same annoyingly good posture.

Mammon scratched the back of his neck and looked over at his older brother. “Do I uh... still gotta babysit em’ if they’re not human?”

“The lake of Cocytus will melt the day I let you babysit without supervision.” Lucifer grumbled.

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

Despite Lucifer’s initial denial, Mammon and MC ended up spending a lot of time hanging out when Lucifer was busy with paperwork. Of course Mammon’s first thought was ‘how do I profit off this situation?’

MC is now Mammon’s designated babysitter after they caught him picking up their feathers that had fallen off with the intention of painting them white and claiming they were Lucifer’s from back in the Celestial Realm.

Mammon does end up spoiling MC a little. Just a smidge. They’re the kid of his totally not his favourite brother after all! How could he not? Whether or not these gifts are obtained legally or are legal at all is subject to scrutiny.

“Mammon, I can’t drink this!” MC placed the bottle of Demonus back on the counter of the kitchen.

“Why not? That’s a bottle of the good stuff! We gotta celebrate you gettin’ an A on that test somehow!”

“I’m underage! Incredibly underage. I’m not legally allowed to drink.”

Mammon wordlessly plopped a silly straw into the bottle. “...does that help?”

“No.” MC then inclined their head to the bottle. “And I don’t want to get hung from the ceiling, that bottle was in my father’s study yesterday, I’m above theft.”

“How old are you s’posed to be anyway? Never mind... uh...” Mammon wracked his brain for something else he could do for MC that didn’t cost anything (don’t judge him, the poor bastard was flat broke!). “I could... teach you to drive!”

“Driving?”

“Yeah! Drivin’ is awesome! We can take my car!”

The bills for the damages done to the car and the Devildom were mailed to Lucifer the next day, and MC and Mammon got to keep each other company as they hung from the ceiling. Ah well! At least MC wasn’t upside down!

Mammon wasn’t that good of a flight teacher either, he also crashed into a tree (the same tree MC crashed into, actually) when he was cheering for MC. They were finally able to do a loopdy loop! He was proud and distracted! Okay?! Lucifer! Stop smirkin’ at him! It’s not that funny!

At least the vantage point from the tree was decent and the branches didn’t scratch him up too badly. Oh hey... that person walking by was wearing a very nice watch... he’d be right back-

That Uncle That is Always Absent From Family Gatherings and When He is Present He Leaves Early (Levi)

He missed everything. That is not an exaggeration. He was in the middle of an online raid battle and couldn’t look at his phone! No Lucifer he can’t pause an online game! That’s not how it works!

Okay, the human exchange student is half demon? WOAH! THAT’S JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME- W A I T. THE LITTLE NORMIE IS LUCIFER’S KID?!

Okie doke, he was fully convinced that MC just had to be an anime protagonist.

They binged every series that Levi compared them to. Sure MC might have missed a few assignments because of late night anime binges, but they were too good for this school crap anyway, right?

Nope. Lucifer put a ban on the two watching anime until both their grades improved. Surviving that hell brought the two together.

“Ugh!”

The sound of a pencil case being haphazardly thrown across the room made Levi peek out of his bed-tub. If his figurines got knocked over so HELP HIM-

“This is stupid!!I shouldn’t have to catch up with this!” MC crossed their arms and gave their Demonology textbook their best disapproving glare.

Lucifer Lite (tm) was having a hell of a time trying to claw through their missed work, and Levi sympathized, he really did, it’s just... he was playing Animal Crossing-

Levi paused the game to placate his anime-buddy when their wings popped out and he feared for his rare merch’s safety.

“H-hey, MC? Do you need help?” Levi’s offer was met with a bone chilling glare that lived rent free in his nightmares ever since. He had pulled a Mammon and forgotten he was talking to Lucifer’s child. Lucifer’s allergy to help must have passed down to MC.

“No! I don’t! It’s just... dumb!” MC hissed, she turned and looked over at the fish tank. “Right Henry 2.0?”

Henry 2.0 did not respond.

“MC, you need to finish your homework or we can’t watch anything together,” Levi sighed, he had finished his work over an hour earlier. He had mastered the art of all night anime binges and managing to do most of his work in the fifteen minutes between the time he woke up and the time school was supposed to begin. “We haven’t even binged all of volume 4 of TSL yet!”

“Mmm...” MC grumbled. “Fine...”

MC picked up their pencil case and began continued their work. Levi breathed a sigh of relief and went back to Animal Crossing.

The tiny normie did in fact finish their work, only after they caved and asked Levi for help. Swore him to secrecy, they did... very intimidating, they were.

Just saying, he most definitely sent that one Keanu Reeves meme with big Keanu and little Keanu but with Lucifer and MC to the wrong group chat. Poor bastard.

Flying lessons? No. Levi hadn’t flown since his time in the Celestial Realm, he had no advice to give other than: “Flap your wings!”

“THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING YOU-”

MC didn’t get to finish that thought, they lost their balance and fell right into RAD’s fountain. Ah well, Levi had a head start on running for his life that he squandered by laughing at MC. RIP.

The Uncle/brother/whatever the fuck that Starts a Fight With Your Dad at the Family Reunion. (Satan)

Oh... another Lucifer? Eugh. Gross.

Satan gave the kid a wide berth when they first met. Everything the kid said or did ticked him off. “Tsk. Look at MC. Making an omelette. So annoying.” “Oh wow, MC vacuumed? Roll out the red carpet, we need to celebrate their existence!” “Look at them. Breathing. Disgusting.”

MC’s pride wouldn’t ever let them admit it but... they knew Satan didn’t like them, and it hurt their feelings.

“Shhhh,” Satan whispered into his backpack.

“Meow.” The backpack replied.

“I said shhhhh.”

The backpack did not reply after that, which was a good thing considering the little princet of the HOL was nearby.

“Satan?” They asked. “Who are you talking to?”

Satan coldly brushed past them as he made his way to his room. “No one you need to concern yourself with.”

When the little calico kitten was safe in his room, Satan quickly realized a mistake in his foolproof ‘sneak a cat into the house’ plan. He didn’t have any toys for the kitten, and he didn’t want his books getting scratched...

It was alright, he’d just rush out to the a store that sold cat things and rush back! Five minute trip tops!

Well when Satan got back the cat was no longer in the room. Oh dear. He discreetly tore apart the house looking for the poor little thing until he ended up finding it in the library, happily chasing around a loose feather being held up by MC.

“Oh, hello Satan.” MC chirped as the kitten batted it’s adorable little paws at the feather.

“My... my door was closed. Did you let the cat out?”

MC shrugged. “I heard meowing.”

Satan ran a hand through his hair and grumbled. Stupid smaller Lucifer. Stupid original Lucifer. Everyone sucked.

“Let me guess, you’re going to run to Lucifer and tell him all about the meowing and the rule breaking.”

MC shook their head and glared at Satan. “Of course not. I’ve already gotten way too attached to this little guy anyway. We’re co-parenting this kitten like mature adults.”

With some coaxing, Satan did sit down and play with the kitten, maybe MC wasn’t... so terrible.

The two watch Unsolved Mysteries together, that’s their show. “This guy did it.” “Satan, we’re two minutes into the episode-” “Trust me.”

Thirty minutes later.

“He did it.” “See MC, what’d I tell you?”

Lucifer did find out about the cat, but with enough pleading, MC and Satan managed to warm up the cold spot in Lucifer’s chest where his heart should have been. The cat’s name is Detective Toe Beans (or just Bean).

Satan can’t fly, he has a tail, but he did read up on wing anatomy and how flight actually works in demons, his advice would be good in theory, but it’s full of so much technical jargon that MC can’t understand it.

At least MC didn’t crash into something, they barrel rolled through one of the HOL’s windows. Good thing it was the window to their room. The broken arm still hurt like hell.

The Best Dressed Bitch Who Brings The Booze to The Reunion. (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Lucifer’s kid was SO CUTE! A thousand pictures commemorating that adorable moment needed to be taken! Wait- Lucifer- GIVE BACK THE PHONE-

Asmo, surprise surprise, absolutely adores little MC! So cute! So small! He was just so excited to announce to all his Devilgram followers that Lucifer was finally a certified DILF.

That post disappeared five minutes after it was made but the damage had already been done.

Asmo made sure MC looked their best at all times, if they needed help talking to anyone? Asmo’s got their back!

Sure, maybe he’s a little pushy, but pushy’s a good thing sometimes, right?

“Asmodeus-”

“No, these shoes wouldn’t fit you...”

“Asmo-”

“No, not these ones either...”

“ASMODEUS.”

Asmo squeaked and jumped upwards, Geez Louise... little MC’s voice could sure be scary when they wanted it to be...

“I don’t need any fancy new shoes.” MC huffed, sitting up straighter in one of the chairs in Asmo’s room. “I thought this was supposed to be a sleepover.”

“Hmmm...” Asmo pouted. “Makeovers are an essential part of sleepovers... what’d you do with your human friends up in the human world that could possibly be better than a make-over?!”

MC began to list things off. “Ordered junk food, talked about people we hated, watched movies,”

“Greasy food is so bad for your skin...” Asmo cringed and shook his head violently. “But I’m totally down to watch a movie and bitch about people I hate!”

“Ah yes, human sleepovers, a tradition I never quite had the chance to enjoy.” Solomon said from Asmo’s bed. “Who are we bitching about?”

“Remind me what Solomon is doing here.” MC muttered as they sat down in front of Asmo’s TV.

“Because, I wanted to hang out with my two favourite humans.” Asmo cooed, reaching over and trying to pinch MC’s cheek, which they awkwardly dodged.

“Can we watch The Exorcist?” Solomon asked, propping his head up with his hands.

“Ew, no.” Asmo made a face at him. “That scene with the vomit? Hell NO.”

“Mm.” MC mumbled. Asmo turned to look at them.

“MC? Are you doing okay? You don’t look like you’re having any fun...”

“I’m fine.” MC grumbled.

Asmo pursed his lips, as much as it made his little narcissistic heart break, he nudged MC. “Why don’t you pick the movie, sweetie. I’m sure Solomon and I will like anything you pick!”

MC noticeably brightened. “Let’s watch Scream!”

The strangled noise that came from Asmo was... concerning, but to his credit, The Avatar of Lust held his tongue about his distaste for the movie, and the three slumber-party goers had quite the lovely time.

After the movie ended, MC went back to their room, sure it was a sleepover but their bed was right down the hall.

Good for Asmo and Solomon. Horny fuckers. We stan.

Asmo just claps and tries to cheer MC on when it comes to their flying lessons. (The idea that Asmo came up with to wear his cheerleader costume from the previous Halloween was immediately shot down by Lucifer)

“You’re doing wonderful, MC- WATCH OUT FOR THE POWER LINE!”

MC didn’t hit the power line, but Asmo’s scream of terror caused them to fall butt-first into a dumpster. Their injured tailbone served as a tragic memory of the incident.

Oh well, good thing Asmo had nice smelling soap to give that could mask dumpster-stink.

The Uncle that eats everything and tells you to eat your veggies while you angrily pick at your broccoli at the kid’s table. (Beel)

Lucifer... has a kid?! Beel choked on the cheetos he had snuck into the Assembly Hall when the kid’s wings popped out.

Oh wow, that’s nice :) maybe they can eat together. Belphie would probably like them.

Wait what is the gender neutral term for Niece or Nephew?

...Nibling? Uh... let’s not say that around Beel. We don’t need him to get hungrier and begin associating MC with nibbling on things.

The Underground Tomb incident probably went a little differently, but after all that nonsense, the two are closer than two peas in a pod!

Mmm... peas...

“Beel?” MC stepped into the Avatar of Gluttony’s room.

“Hi MC.” Beel was doing push-ups in the middle of the room, on the ground right beneath his head was a massive bowl of spaghetti that he bit into every time he completed a push-up. “Can you come stand on my back? I need the extra weight.”

“On your back?” MC padded closer. “Are you sure? It’s not going to hurt?”

“No, it’ll be okay.” Beel assured them. “Belphie and I did this all the time. Except Belphie is normally asleep.”

MC tentatively stepped onto Beel’s back. It was a balancing act to say the least, they eventually gave up on standing and ended up sitting cross legged between Beel’s shoulder blades.

“You did this with Belphegor?” MC asked.

“Yeah,” Beel sighed. “He was always too tired to exercise, but he’d let me bench press him sometimes...”

MC frowned and hugged their knees to their chest. Knowing full well that Beel’s twin wasn’t in the human world like Lucifer said was absolutely ripping them apart from the inside. Guilt felt just as rotten as their pride did when they were being belittled...

“Maybe you’ll see him again sometime soon.” MC whispered. “Maybe my father’ll come to his senses and let him come back down to the Devildom.”

Beel paused his push-ups for a brief moment, then nodded and went back to his eating exercising combo. “I hope so. He’ll like you, MC. I’m sure of it.”

MC nodded. “I... hope so.”

Beel’s a pretty decent flight teacher, but his wings are just so different from MC’s that it renders any tips he had next to useless.

“MC, maybe your wings aren’t flapping fast enough.”

“Beel, I appreciate the thought, but I’m not a hummingbird. Or a fly. I don’t need to flap my wings a million times a minute to stay afloat.”

Ah well, MC tried to take some of Beel’s advice, but their lower right wing cramped up and they ended up flying in circles until Beel was able to catch them. Ah well, better than the dumpster incident the previous week.

The Uncle That Passes Out in The Basement and You’re Not Allowed to Wake Him Up Even Though All Your Toys and Video Games Are Down There. He Also Picks a Fight With Your Dad’s New S/O Before He Passes Out. (Belphie)

Sitting in the attic was quite a drag, and this supposedly weak little human was quite the annoyance to try and call out to. It took a lot longer than expected, but when he heard little footsteps coming towards his prison, Belphegor nearly jumped with joy.

Oh... it... looked like Lucifer. Smelled like Lucifer. Stood like Lucifer. Quacked like Lucifer. Or... trilled..? Whatever sound a peacock made, this brat sounded an awful lot like Lucifer.

A... half-demon. Hmph. Belphie honestly thought Lucifer had actual standards. Not anymore, he guessed.

(Man I could fill a whole-ass fic with the Belphie betrayal thing, but for now let’s skip to post attic nonsense)

Okay so maybe MC wasn’t disgusting. They made a good nap buddy. It was cute when their wings came out when they were sleeping sometimes. Well... it was cute when they didn’t hit him in the face and make him wake up with his mouth full of feathers.

What Beel said had been true, Belphie made a good substitute when weights weren’t available, but Beel didn’t want MC to feel left out, so Belphie and MC ended up sitting on his back while he did push ups. MC once got bored and started playing Go Fish with Belphie on Beel’s back while he exercised.

Yes. MC is still a member of the Formerly-Anti-Lucifer League.

“Are you sure he’s not going to be too mad at us?” MC asked for the dozenth time that day. Detective Toe Beans was wrapped around their neck like a scarf (he had gotten so big!!!) while MC nervously sat in one of the Library chairs.

“Positive.” Belphie said with a toothy grin. “Besides, he’s like putty when it comes to you. Just give him your best puppy eyes and we’re not guilty on all charges.”

Putty..? Really..? Lucifer..? How strict was he before MC got there... they wondered.

“Sh! He’s coming!” Satan stuck his nose into a random book, it was the Oxford English Dictionary... and it was upside down.

Belphie pretended to pass out and MC decided that the best course of action was to stare deeply into their cat’s eyes. Yeah... that looked casual and not weird.

“Satan, MC, Belphie.” Lucifer nodded to the three of them as he walked towards the entrance to his study.

“Lucifer.”

“Afternoon, father.”

Belphie let out a cartoonishly loud fake snore that nearly caused both MC and Satan to break cover and start laughing.

Side note, Bean had adorable widdle eyes! That cute little face was just to die for-

“You three..!”

Belphie, Satan, and MC peeked their heads into Lucifer’s study, their handiwork was perfect. Everything was covered in red post it notes. Perfectly not harmful, but SO inconvenient!

“You’re all cleaning this up or so help me-”

“GO!” Belphie and Satan each grabbed one of MC’s arms (Satan also grabbed Bean) and sprinted out of the House of Lamentation. Maybe they’d move back there in twenty years... they hoped that Solomon and The Angels would let them crash at Purgatory Hall...

Belphie had used up his physical energy supply for the next four years. He passed out the moment they stepped into sanctuary. Time for a nap...

Flight practice? Ha. Belphie’s napping. Though, he was suspiciously awake and filming whenever MC did something stupid.

“Try not to suck so bad.”

“GO TO HELL BELPHIE!”

“I’m already there. Hell is every second I’m stuck here watching you fail.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO GET IT FOR THAT!”

Well... MC mastered the dive bomb that day. Lucifer bought them a cake.

Bonus! Your Dad’s New Husband! That Has Managed to Somehow Make Everyone Hate Him Despite the Fact That He’s A Cinnamon Roll. (Diavolo)

A mini Lucifer? A mini Lucifer!

Diavolo dotes on MC like he’d dote on his own kid. MC wants a crown? They’re getting a crown! A damn nice one too! MC wants a title? Here! MC is now... idk Ruler of the area between Majolish and Hell’s Kitchen.

Poor Uncle Mammon’s got some financial insecurity, he’s still the cool uncle... right?!

He is very much that ‘how do you do fellow kids?’ Meme.

He tries to do stereotypical ‘dad’ things but he’s not very good at them. Once he tried to host a barbecue...

Barbatos saved the day, but Mammon’s hair was still singed, Solomon’s cooking still gave Beel food poisoning (SOLOMON EATS TOXIC WASTE I SWEAR-), Luke still got hit in the face with a frisbee, and Simeon got an unhealthy dose of DAD NERVES and got so stressed everyone was almost blinded by the holy light he suddenly started blasting. We do not mention the water guns.

(Seriously whose bright idea was it to give Belphie and Satan water guns while they were in Lucifer’s presence?)

Praise Barbie. He’s too good for them.

“Um...” MC awkwardly held up the baseball, trying to look at it from all angles like it was a completely alien object. “Lord Diavolo... are you sure you want to play catch?”

Diavolo clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! It’s a thing human fathers do with their children, correct? We must make up for lost time between you and Lucifer, right?”

Lucifer massaged his temples and nodded. “If you two would like to play catch...” Lucifer grimaced. “I will too.”

“Okay! MC, throw the ball to Lucifer!” Diavolo instructed.

Lucifer half heartedly held up his baseball glove as MC tossed him the ball. He caught it, and looked over at Diavolo, who was applauding like he just witnessed the greatest feat in sports history.

“Okay! Throw it to me!” Diavolo waved his glove in the air, Lucifer rolled his eyes and smiled. He threw the ball at Diavolo with... a lot of force. Enough force to probably dent steel... Diavolo caught it like it was nothing.

MC suddenly feared for their safety.

“Okay MC, catch!”

Diavolo threw the ball with enough force to break the god damn sound barrier. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the ball sailed way over MC’s head and crashed right through a window.

“Oh my...” Diavolo put a hand on his hip and surveyed the damage to the window. “This isn’t so bad, I believe in human world TV shows this happens quite often. Look! The glass broke in a perfect circle!”

“Yay... property damage...” MC murmured.

Lucifer sighed and pulled out his DDD. “I’ll phone someone to replace the win-”

“Lucifer no! Now according to human world customs we must,” Diavolo took a deep breath, rushed forward, grabbed both Lucifer and MC’s hands and started sprinting away from the Demon Lord’s Castle. “RUN FOR IT!”

“Di- Diavolo!” Lucifer gasped.

“Who are we running from?! That’s your castle!” MC squeaked.

“I don’t know! Just run! That’s what the human TV show says to do!”

Weirdly enough, Diavolo was the best flight instructor. MC’s ability to fly increased tenfold after Diavolo found out that MC was learning to fly.

“You’re doing amazing MC! That was a perfect turn!”

“Thanks Lord Diavolo, I’m surprised I haven’t crashed into anyone or fallen yet!”

“Well, I highly doubt you’ll be crashing into anyone anymore, your flying is practically perfect now!”

Mammon proceeded to fly past them holding what looked like Lucifer’s wallet.

“M-mammon?!”

“Oh... I wonder what he’s doing. Look, MC! It’s Lucifer! Hello Lucifer dea-”

Lucifer ended up colliding with the two of them and sending them all crashing to the floor.

That was the last time MC fell during flying practice.

(We currently have a Go Fund Me set up for Mammon to get the funds necessary to flee the Devildom after that incident. Please donate to save- oh shit hi Lucifer-)

[darks-ink]

Spark

Prompt: How does being constantly exposed to high amounts of ectoplasm affect the citizens of Amity Park? Prompt by: @robotbeowulf Word count: 2,487

[AO3] [FFN] [more Phic Phight fics]

---

Danny shrugged, shifting his backpack to lie a little more comfortably on his shoulders, and pretended very hard to be a regular student. It wasn’t easy, but it hadn’t been easy for the last two years. The constant secret-keeping from everyone was wearing on him.

Not to mention the constant ghost attacks, of course. He was pretty sure all of Amity Park was covered in a thick film of ectoplasm by now, considering how much of it he and the other ghosts spilled and fired during the almost-constant battles. Sure, his parents said that the stuff evaporated and then returned to the Ghost Zone, but his parents also said that humans couldn’t have ghost powers, and Danny was the (mostly) living proof that that wasn’t true, either.

He was jerked from his thoughts—literally—by a fist, grabbing him by the shirt and slamming him against the lockers he had been walking by.

“Hi, Dash,” Danny muttered, trying to hide away his weariness with apathy. “Good morning to you too.”

“Fentonia,” Dash growled back, leaning in close to Danny’s face. A little too close, thank you, ever heard of personal space? “Finally.”

Danny bit back the automatic reply—aw, were you waiting for me?—and settled for grimacing at Dash.

Not that that went over well, of course, because Dash’s other hand found its way to Danny’s shirt as well. With Danny well in his grasp, Dash lifted him, slamming him against the lockers again, this time with his feet off of the ground—no easy way of getting out. Not without using his powers, at least.

“What’s wrong, Fenturd?” Dash asked, pressing Danny against the lockers even harder. “Ghost got your tongue?”

Ha ha, how creative. How funny. Danny was sure he’d come up with funnier jokes in his sleep. “Fuck off,” he grunted at Dash as his back was slammed against the hard metal behind him again.

“Ooh, he’s got bite today.” Dash leaned back a bit, a vicious grin on his face, then crowded Danny against the lockers again. “Oh, no, never mind. Looks like he’s all bark.”

Danny snarled back at Dash before he’d really thought about it—before he could stop himself, really. It wasn’t even words, really, just an animalistic snarl and the pulse of his core that meant his eyes were glowing.

Oh, fuck. And Dash was way too close to miss that.

“Hey, there you go!” Dash… cheered? The fists clenched in Danny’s shirt released, and his feet thumped down on the ground before he’d really caught on to what was happening. Dash was already turning away from him, nudging Kwan. “See, I told you Fenton could do it too!”

That… was not the reaction he’d expected to get to ghostly glowing eyes. What the fuck?

Kwan laughed audibly, and Danny wrenched his eyes away from Dash and towards the other boy. The… the laughing, visibly cheery boy.

Seriously. What was going on?

“So, uh… No bullying anymore today?” Danny asked, and then felt like he could kick himself. Absolute moron. Who asks that sort of thing?

Dash snorted, apparently amused (amused???) by Danny’s idiotic question, and waved a dismissive hand. “What’s the point? I got what I was after.”

Okay? Good? That explained absolutely nothing. If anything, Danny felt even more confused. Had Dash seriously been bullying him trying to get him to glow eyes his? To snarl at him?

What???

Apparently he vocalized that last thought, because Kwan’s eyes turned back to him, a hesitant grin on his face.

And then Kwan’s eyes flashed a bright, glowing, cyan.

Danny, still leaning against the lockers he’d been pressed to, froze up automatically. He knew what that meant. Had spent enough time combing through his parents’ research—and with his own experience—to know that briefly glowing eyes couldn’t be caused by ordinary ghostly causes. An overshadowing ghost altered the eye-color of their host, but that was constant.

And, if there had been a ghost, Danny would’ve felt them. He’d grown more than strong enough to sense ghosts even if they were hidden in a host.

“He’s had them for a while.” Dash spoke casually, like this wasn’t a big fucking deal. “We couldn’t find anybody else with that brand of ecto-contamination, y’know, so Kwan was feeling super down about that.”

“Dash,” Kwan groaned, sounding put-upon. As carefully as Danny listened, the only thing he could hear was the undercurrent of care Kwan held for Dash. For his friend.

“Shut up, man.” Dash nudged his friend, then picked up his explanation that didn’t explain anything. “See, but I knew I had seen you do them too. The glowy eyes, I mean.” Dash underlined the latter with a vague gesture at his own eyes. “So I just had to push you into doing them while Kwan could see, to prove that he wasn’t the only one.”

“Uh.” Danny blinked at them, feeling like he missed everything Dash had said after the words “ecto-contamination”. What?

No, seriously, he knew he’d uttered that word a lot these past five minutes—even if only in his head—but what?

“You had to get him angry, though,” Kwan muttered, bumping shoulders with Dash. “You know that’s not the only way to make them glow.”

“Yeah, but it was the easiest to push him into,” Dash easily admitted.

And then, while Danny was still reeling, feeling like he’d missed at least seven steps in this conversation, Kwan stepped in closer and shot him a bright smile. “Thanks, Fenton. I feel a ton better.”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny blinked, watching the two of them wander off like nothing happened. “You’re welcome?”

“Man, what was all of that?” he muttered to himself, staring at the empty hallway for a moment before pushing himself away from the lockers. He desperately needed to talk to Sam and Tucker, see if they had any idea what all of that was about.

Somewhere, he kind of wished that Jazz was still in Amity. She would definitely know what the hell all of that was all about.

Seriously. Dash had just casually muttered the words ecto-contamination, and then suggested that it was common enough for there to be accepted variants of it.

How had Danny missed all of that?

!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“There’s Val,” Sam whispered, leaning in closer. Danny followed her gaze and, indeed, there was the girl they’d been looking for all morning.

Well, it figured that they wouldn’t manage to pin her down until lunch, but it was frustrating nonetheless. Sam and Tucker hadn’t known what the stuff with Dash and Kwan had been about, either, so they had decided to ask the only person they could reasonably ask: Valerie Gray.

But that, in turn, meant that they had to just sit on the knowledge until lunch.

At least she had picked a distant enough seat that they could talk in private. Small blessings.

“Let’s hope she actually knows what’s going on,” Tucker muttered, before nudging Danny forward. “You go first, dude.”

So quick to sacrifice him to the ghost huntress. Danny shook his head but walked over, slipping into the seat opposite of Valerie. “Hey, Val.”

“Danny,” she greeted him back, raising an eyebrow at Sam and Tucker, who sat down on either side of him. “Well, this feels like an interrogation all of a sudden.”

He shot Sam a meaningful glance, but she just grinned back, pushing herself to sit more squarely on the seat. Rude.

“Danny had a weird interaction with Dash and Kwan this morning,” Tucker started explaining, breaking the tension before it could really go anywhere. “We were hoping you could offer… I dunno, some clarification, since you know them better than we do.”

She snorted, leaning back slightly. “They’re Dash and Kwan. Every interaction with them is weird.”

“Well, yeah, but they were…” Danny paused, briefly hesitant to mention it—what would Valerie think of ghost-powered humans?—before powering through. “They were talking about ecto-contamination, and known variants of it.”

The look they got in response was flat. Flat, and clearly confused.

After a long and exceedingly awkward moment of silence, Valerie cleared her throat and asked, clearly hesitant, “None of you noticed?”

“Noticed what?” Tucker frowned, glancing between the three of them and Valerie.

“That pretty much everyone in Amity Park has ghost-like traits?” She raised a questioning eyebrow at them. “Everyone, but especially the kids here at Casper High, has ecto-contamination so bad that we’re all, well. Becoming a little ghost-like.” She paused, shook her head, then asked. “None of you seriously noticed?”

Danny drew back, considering his words, but before he could really think about it, Sam had already flapped a dismissive hand. “The three of us spend so much time in and around Fentonworks that we’re already contaminated to hell and back,” she dryly explained. “And honestly, Valerie, how much time do we really spend with anyone outside our direct circle?”

“Fair enough,” Valerie allowed with a shrug. “Right, so, it mostly seems to be caused by the Portal and the constant ghost attacks. I mean, obviously, right?”

“Right,” Danny agreed, ignoring the way his stomach was turning. He’d tried so hard to keep everyone safe, but had the presence of ghosts been endangering them all along? Had the spilled ectoplasm really affected people, and so badly too?

“Now, what we started noticing pretty early on is that people generally only display a single ghost power, once they become contaminated enough to actually have a discernible ghost power. Some people consider them distinct variants: people with invisibility, with intangibility, flight, etcetera.”

Sam and Tucker both hummed, thoughtfully. Valerie raised her other eyebrow at that, then shook her head and continued on.

“Generally people don’t get contaminated enough to display more than those basic powers, but exceptions exist, I guess. And your contamination is probably way worse than anyone else’s, except maybe actual ghost hunters like the Fentons.” She made a face. “And that’s assuming their jumpsuits don’t protect them, which I doubt.”

“I’m pretty sure they do,” Danny mumbled, trying to inconspicuously watch both of his best friends from the corner of his eyes. The more Valerie explained about the ecto-contamination that apparently haunted all of Amity Park, the more their expressions twisted into something they usually called “suddenly understanding weird shit that had been happening”.

It was, unfortunately, a somewhat common expression these days. What with ghosts becoming a common thing, and all that.

“I… Some of the plants in my greenhouse grow unusually well whenever I’m near. Some even seem to react to my presence…” Sam admitted, her voice quiet, uncharacteristically reluctant. After a moment of hesitation, she tacked on, “And sometimes, when I really really don’t want to deal with my parents, they just… overlook me, like I’m not there at all.”

Like she was invisible, they all heard, despite the fact that Sam didn’t say the words.

Seemingly encouraged by Sam’s admission, Tucker added on, “I rarely, if ever, charge my tech. Their batteries just don’t seem to empty as long as I have them on me. And sometimes when I’m digging into code, it feels like… like I can alter it directly, like I’m tapping into some inner world that doesn’t—shouldn’t—exist.” Just like Sam, Tucker also paused for a moment. “When I’m running from a ghost or whatever, sometimes I run into an alley that I know has a dead end and never hit the wall.”

Like he was just phasing through it, going intangible before he hit it.

Danny swallowed through the clog he suddenly found in his throat, watching Valerie turn a meaningful look to him. She wanted him to tell her about his— his ghost powers. But he couldn’t just pretend all of his powers came from the contamination of living at Fentonworks, could he?

And he definitely couldn’t pick certain powers as acceptable and others as not.

“I… I guess weird shit has happened to me too, yeah,” he finally admitted, cautiously, hoping she guessed the source of his reluctance wrong. “But I never really thought about it, to be honest. Anything I could blame the ecto-contamination for could just as easily be caused by actual ghosts.” And in a way it was, of course. Anything caused by his ecto-contamination was caused by an actual ghost: Phantom.

“But,” he tacked on, knowing Valerie wouldn’t just let that lie. She was far too stubborn not to investigate. “Dash and Kwan apparently saw me with glowing eyes?”

Valerie hummed, then nodded. “That makes sense, I guess. I know Kwan has the glowing eyes variant as well, so that would explain why they’ve been targeting you.”

“It’s been around that long?” Sam asked, leaning forward, clearly curious despite herself. “I figured it would’ve taken longer than that to show up.”

“Oh, no, that was long after I got kicked out of the group,” Valerie said dismissively. “But Kwan saw me with a ghost scanner one day, and he begged me to scan him. I guess he was seriously worried that he had been overshadowed, even if overshadowing doesn’t work like that.”

“I don’t think he got rid of that fear, to be honest.” Danny shrugged, uneasy. “At least, he seemed pretty cheered-up when I, uh, glowed my eyes at him and Dash.”

Tucker snorted, and Danny could see Sam crack a grin as well, probably at his word choice. Well, fuck them. What did you call it, if not “glowing your eyes at them”?

“Anyway, I can’t help but notice that we all told you, but you haven’t said a word about what you can do,” Sam prodded, nudging Valerie. “Come on, Val.”

“Yeah, that does seem a little unfair.” Tucker leaned forward as well, an expression of genuine curiosity on his face.

And, honestly? Danny kind of wanted to know as well. Her ghost hunting suit probably hadn’t protected her, and her new suit definitely didn’t. If anything, the Technus-made suit probably had just worsened it.

“I…” Valerie visibly hesitated, then gave in. “I can fly, a little. It’s not really all that great, but at least I won’t break anything if I ever fall out of a tree or something.”

She said it with a light tone, like it was just a casual joke. All Danny could think of, however, was all the times he’d seen Valerie fall off of her hoverboard, especially at the start.

He carefully does not wince.

“That’s pretty neat,” he forced himself to say instead. “Less lame than glowing eyes, at least.”

Valerie grinned back at him, but before she could say anything the bell rung.

“Guess we’d better head to class,” Sam said with a grunt, pushing herself off of the bench.

“Yeah.” Tucker got up as well, then nodded at Valerie. “Thanks for the explanation, Valerie.”

Danny followed suit, shooting her a smile. “Same. Thanks, Val.”

She had given him a lot to think about.

[fukurodaze]

october

pairing: third year!tsukishima kei x third year!fem!reader genre: fluff, suggestive word count: 2.7k warnings: cursing, mentions of hickeys, makeout session hehe synopsis: “tsukishima” and “high school sweetheart” are a unique combination of words

LISTEN TO: lowkey - niki; used to you - mxmtoon

lowercase intended!

nobody knows about this.

nobody knows about his offhand banter and longing gazes. if you and kei go back exactly five months from today, you’d be asking him a question about the research assignment as you were about to leave the library and he surprisingly follows his answer up with “i’m going home too. come with?”

nobody knows him on facetime, staying late until his eyes can barely open after a blink. you’re used to his texts, somehow so much funnier and warmer than everyone seems to know him. and maybe one day he’d kissed you; on the right temple, as you fell asleep on your bed; on the back of your shoulder, when he did it subconsciously during a movie. and maybe you kissed him too; a short peck on the lips when he went home through your front door; another on his calloused and bandaged hands after a block had left it bruised. 

nobody knows that now, you’re straddling the boy you’ve known for a while as you suck his tongue until he gets breathless. his hands roam up and down your body, finding themselves under your shirt and holding onto the bare skin of your waist like he can never let go. when he tugs on the hem of your shirt, bunching it up your torso, you let him take it off, the moment away from his lips making you realise his lips are swollen and his glasses have been thrown somewhere on your bed. you freeze for a bit when he spends a little too long staring at your body, and you freeze even more when you realise you’re not wearing the bra you would’ve liked for this occasion, but you’re cut off when he starts nipping on your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he mumbles, “you don’t have to suck in your stomach.”

you relax a little, small whimpers coming out of your mouth as he continues to work on your neck, the little shocks of pleasure filling your senses as hands on bare skin start to feel more familiar than foreign. you could get used to this. 

“wait, don’t leave any, uh, marks or hickeys or whatever,” you breathe, “people might see.”

he hums, and yet his grip on you tightens as you think he’s coming back to your lips, but he doesn’t. he just stops there, face inches away as his lips barely ghost yours. he purses his lips for a second, like he’s thinking of something to say, but the microwave makes its strange appearance when it beeps loud enough to make you jump a little in his lap. he still holds you close. 

so, so close. and nobody else knows.

“i’ll get the popcorn.” right, because tonight you had planned to watch a movie with him. like the usual - talk, cuddle, whatever. 

come to think of it, your relationship with kei sounds weird; feelings so well understood without ever being spoken. you liked it at first, when he told you he liked you on a saturday morning, your reciprocated feelings tasting of warm rice and milky eggs and an unspoken convention that this stayed between you two and you two only. but as the days passed, and the thrill of a secret relationship wore off, you’ve started to wonder how it would feel like to be able to show people that, yes, tsukishima kei is your boyfriend, and yes, you like him very much.

when you take your shirt, he says, “wear my hoodie. it’s cold.”

you grin when you hear that, opting to simply wear his hoodie without a shirt underneath. it’s the same black hoodie he wears literally all the time and probably doesn’t wash regularly (which is gross) but if there’s one thing you learned about these feelings is that you couldn’t care less.

when you pick up the popcorn, kei only lays against the headboard of your bed, feeling slightly empty at the words he’d heard from you. serves him right, he thinks as he picks his glasses back up; this relationship, or whatever it is, isn’t something both of you wanted everyone to know. he’d get sick of all the attention, and there was probably no need for the two of you to share everything. it’s high school anyways, who knows how long it’s going to last.

yet, when you come back into his room, lips soft and hair tousled, holding a bowl of fragrant popcorn, kei finds himself letting go of those thoughts.

you take a seat on the floor against your bed frame, already having set up the laptop in the middle of the floor. you motion to the boy on the bed to come down, and he brings your entire duvet with him.

as he settles next to you, your shoulder touching his upper arm, you set the popcorn in the space where your knee meets his thigh, over the blanket. the movie you two had decided on earlier tonight starts playing, and you feel your head slide into the crook of kei’s neck, like it always does. 

the night starts off slow; just the two of you making remarks at the movie, laughing at plot holes and cliches. then, by halfway, the bowl of popcorn is empty; as the protagonist kisses their love interest, you feel a flush up your cheeks; and as the movie ends, kei’s arm is around your waist, pulling you into his side. it’s a pretty shitty movie.

“well, that was a shitty movie.” 

“agreed,” you grunt as you stand up to place the bowl of popcorn on your desk, to be taken out at a later time. you fold your laptop onto your desk as well, and kei gets the cue to sprawl your duvet back onto your bed. it’s only nine pm. you climb back in your bed, motioning for him to come with you, too.

slowly, his tall figure holds yours in an embrace filled with something you could only identify as care and affection. and here, especially with his glasses off, sight blurry and only really being able to see you in full focus, it makes you grin at how strikingly different he can be in your room and at school. not that you had ever seen him at school very often, as most of your relationship was crafted of video calls and secret little dates in the night. 

you wonder if he’ll grow out of this.

“oh my god, something kind of funny happened today after the english exam,” you chuckle, your head resting comfortably on kei’s chest. he lets out a questioning hum.

“the girls in my class thought i was seeing osawa,” you stifle a laugh, “at me they were like, you’re definitely dating a guy from the basketball club.”

“wait, how’d they know you were dating someone?”

“word got out. they asked for details, and i told them he was in a sports club.”

“they didn’t think about the volleyball club?”

you shake your head, “they did, but they literally went - ‘we know it can’t be kageyama or tsukishima, so, yamaguchi?’” kei snickers at those words, remembering that even the boys in the volleyball club don’t know about you.

“i love how they just glossed over the chances of you with either me or kageyama,” kei tsks, “and who’s osawa?”

you roll your eyes, hearing his voice tinted with a bit of jealousy when he hears other people think you’d go better with this random guy at school. “he’s a guy i partnered up with for biology. why?”

“nothing. just good to know.”

“alright, whatever.” you flip over, your chin now pressing on the backs of your hands on his chest. your grin is wide. 

“your hoodie smells like sweat,” kei says, trying to divert the topic away from your eventual accusations of jealousy.

“it’s your hoodie, asshole!” you jokingly exclaim, and he pulls the hood up to your head. you look cute, he thinks, even with his over-worn hoodie and messy hair. it’s in moments like these, when the both of you let go of the fronts you put up at school, and just live like nobody else exists. of course, it will all be over in a few hours, but that’s not to say he doesn’t secretly text you under the desk during class or that you don’t have the liberty of an extra pack of chips in your locker from the early mornings kei has practice.

“okay, but, hoodie aside, you could’ve just said i was your boyfriend.”

you like the sound of it; something so distant yet so close. so you make him repeat it again, “wait, what did you say?”

kei exhales through his mouth, “you could’ve just said i was your boyfriend.”

“would you like a boyfriend badge with that?” you tease.

“shut up. at least it sounds better than you and osawa,” he mumbles, sitting up, leaning on his arms. “not that anyone would ever know about us.”

your arms wrap around your boyfriend’s neck. his eyes stare straight into yours, and though he still feels uneasy at first, he likes the feeling of you so near him, so warm and fluttery in his stomach. it makes you hope, at least, in the way he’s looking at you, that he might want to show you off more than he lets on. 

“you know, kei, it wouldn’t hurt for some people to know about us,” you mutter, almost a whisper, and he catches your words perfectly.

“but i hate how everyone shits on couples all the time.”

“no, you just shit on couples all the time.”

he sighs defeatedly, “okay, but everyone’s just gonna be annoying when they know. like they’re shoving their noses into our business.”

“yeah, but-”

“on top of that, my mom would constantly nag me about the details of our relationship. i don’t need everyone knowing so much about us.”

you fall silent, running out of things to say. admittedly, the way he’s so quick to shut down all your reasons is getting to you.

“see? there’s no point in other people knowing.” kei’s hands run under your hoodie to caress your bare skin. he likes the way you shiver slightly from the sudden coolness of his fingers, but it does give you an idea.

“i’ll let you leave marks under my school blouse.”

“as hot as that is, no.”

you groan, slouching against his larger frame. you shift your weight onto him, making him fall back on the bed, and you settle with lying beside him. kei, like the reluctant cuddle bug you’ve found him out to be, immediately wraps an arm around your torso, like every second spent at your house that doesn’t involve his limbs intertwined with yours is a second wasted. 

you exhale through your mouth, “kei, i just wanted to be proud.”

his grip tightens.

“like, we don’t have to tell everyone what happens between us every single day, but, god damn, i don’t want to keep sneaking you in like this, or having to send you off at like, four in the morning so nobody knows you were here.”

“do you care more about what other people think than how i feel?” now you’re letting it out. you realise you’re frustrated - so fucking frustrated - that you barely even get to see him every week because of school and clubs, and that you don’t even get to save his contact on your phone under his own name in fear that people might find out. all because nobody knows.

“no, i care about-”

“i want to hold your hand in public, kei. is that too much to ask?”

you take a deep breath, sitting up against the headboard, “my friends think i bail on them all the time. i want to tell them it’s because i’m going to see my boyfriend instead of some lame excuse, kei. and i want to cheer you on at the spring high nationals in january, because you talk to me about volleyball so much and i want to see my boyfriend do what he’s been working so hard for.”

there’s a hanging silence in the air, coupled with the whirring of your heater. you can’t make eye contact with him - what if he gets mad? your fingers fiddle with the string of his hoodie, knotting it and untying the knot. and it’s only then that he sees you, gaze unsure and lips pursed, that he knows what to do.

it’s not so bad, kei thinks. he wouldn’t have to save your number under a name that’s not exactly yours, and he wouldn’t have to always rush to leave because he has “something coming up”. he can walk you to class in the mornings when you arrive after his morning practices, and it’s like he can imagine the way he’ll hold your hand and make sure everyone knows you’re with him. his train of thought might have gone a bit too far, but he can’t deny the thought of wanting to show you off as his. hell, he’s had a crush on you since your second year (though he’ll never tell you or anyone), and now that he’s got the girl, he might as well be proud of it, too.

so he comes up and kisses you. chastely. “okay.”

you give him a flick to his shoulder, earning an ‘ow’ from him. “that’s it? okay?”

“you said i could leave marks as long as it’s gonna be covered by your blouse, right?”

another finger flick, to his forehead this time, “you asshole.” but you smile. you know him.

when you pull his lips to yours, this time, he makes sure to keep you busy with his hands around your body and your hands in his hair, shirts and hoodies being pulled up to eventually be taken off. suddenly, he stops, and it’s only then that you hear something that you’ve only barely heard once before, on a warm saturday morning when it was summer, months away from today’s october.

“i really, really like you, y/n. and i’m not afraid of that.”

as he cradles you in his touch, kisses trailing down your jaw and beginning at your collarbone, you make sure to ask if he’s okay with reusing the same uniform he wore today for tomorrow. his answer slips out easily; yes.

“is it always this cold in the mornings when you practice?” you tighten the scarf around your neck, shoving your hands into your coat. kei hums in response as you two near the gym.

“to be fair, you could’ve worn tights. doesn’t help when you’re basically half naked in the winter.”

“wearing a skirt does not mean i’m half-naked, kei.” you scoff, but you do take a mental note to start dressing warmer for the coming seasons. 

“i’m just saying, the wind can just go up your skirt-”

his sentence is cut short when a louder, higher-pitched voice runs through.

“woah! tsukishima’s with a girl?” you recognise it as one of the kids in class 3-2, hinata shoyo. his orange hair isn’t exactly easy to miss. behind him is the boy you recognise as kageyama tobio, remembering the way kei would sometimes slip in a snarky mention of his name on the nights he’d call you from his training camp in tokyo. you introduce yourself to the two boys.

“why is that such a surprise to you?” kei points out sharply. a number of second and first years pass by the three of you, and they exchange casual good mornings.

“i think i’ve seen you around. are you friends with kana-san?” hinata names one of the girls in your class, and you nod, telling him you’re pretty close to her. 

"are you going to be watching us practice?” hinata asks, and as you look frantically between kei and hinata, you tell him, “yeah, is that okay for you guys?” kageyama and hinata nod.

you don’t miss it when kei takes your hand and intertwines your fingers with his. it makes you feel a little warmer in chilly weather. it makes you smile.

“go ask team captain over there,” kei shrugs, cocking his head at yamaguchi, who currently has a content smile on his face.

“so this is your girlfriend!” 

you immediately snap your head at kei, as if silently telling him no fair, how come yamaguchi knew all along?! kei shrugs, “he saw me going to your locker one day.”

you roll your eyes before introducing yourself the same way you did to hinata and kageyama, and you hear kageyama huff out, “she looks too nice for you.”

kei scoffs, “well, that’s rich coming from you. maybe you’re forgetting how-”

“alright, tsukki, let’s just go up to the clubroom first.” yamaguchi thankfully cuts in, letting hinata and kageyama go to the gym first.

“oh, y/n-san, you can go to the gym first, too, since we’re going to be changing in the clubroom. we don’t want you to wait outside, after all.” yamaguchi adds, and as you let go of kei’s hand with a reassuring smile, hinata takes it upon himself to make even more conversation with you on the way to the gym. you find his and kageyama’s company entertaining.

“if he’s you’re boyfriend, does he, like, insult you all the time?” kageyama blurts out, his words making you break into smiles.

you giggle, swatting your hands, saying no, no. it makes you realise how different he really is when he isn’t with you.

your hand wanders to the uniform bow around your collar, and you play with the ends of it, the area of your body reminding you of the hickeys you saw littered around your chest and collarbone this morning. when you told kei about it, he only shrugged with the most smug face you’ve ever seen. thank god for collared uniforms.

“so, y/n-san, how’s tsukishima as a boyfriend?” hinata chimes in.

you catch your lip in between your teeth, sucking in a soft inhale. you wonder if you could tell them that he’s the guy that buys you your favourite snacks on the way back from volleyball practice, or that he puts all your favourite songs into his daily playlist so that he can sing along with you when he comes over. still, even after the news about your relationship, you think there’s no harm in keeping some things private. so you exhale.

“he’s an asshole,” you laugh, gleeful, “such an asshole.”

[timelesslords]

Girl’s Night

Read on AO3

In which Annabeth has a little too much wine at Girl's Night and feels very guilty about it. Thankfully, Percy doesn't mind taking her home.

Annabeth Chase was very good at holding her alcohol.

In all honesty it was mostly because she didn’t drink that much to begin with. Being drunk had never been all that appealing to her— years of being on edge for the next fight made it difficult for her to intentionally dull her senses, and she never liked how foggy it made her brain either. Living in New Rome for the past few years hadn’t completely squashed those instincts, despite its top of the line anti-monster security.

But still. Annabeth could keep it together pretty well, when she chose to indulge. She’d gone to a few wild parties earlier in college, mostly at Piper’s behest, and she didn’t mind having a few glasses of wine every once in a while.

Girl’s Night was every once in a while. Every first Friday of the month, if you wanted to be exact about it. In all honesty the practice was probably a bit dumb and middle aged for a bunch of people (and, okay, ‘a bunch of people’ was generous- it was really only Piper, Annabeth and Hazel) in their early twenties, but Annabeth didn’t care. It was hard to keep up with people these days, and Annabeth appreciated the emphasis on female camaraderie and friendship.

Plus, Piper had really stellar taste in wine.

Tonight’s had been especially good, and after a long and stupidly stressful week at school (Annabeth wished she could emulate Percy’s senioritis, but unfortunately the Architecture program only got harder as it went on, not easier) Annabeth found herself a little extra appreciative of the relaxing effects of alcohol.

It seemed like all of them had had a tough week, because they were all buzzed pretty fast. Piper was even happy to deliver the latest Hollywood gossip, courtesy of her dad, and Hazel was telling them a story about a probie getting stuck in the unicorn stables that made Annabeth laugh so hard she was practically sobbing. Piper and Hazel were not much better; Piper had completely fallen off the couch from cracking up so hard, and Hazel could barely get a word in edgewise before she completely dissolved into giggles again.

It was then that Annabeth caught a glance of the two completely empty bottles of wine in front of them, and realized that all of them— though mostly she, specifically— had made a grave mistake. She had no idea how many times her own glass had been filled and then subsequently emptied, but it was enough that she was well past tipsy and solidly in drunk territory.

It was hard to care about the bad parts of being drunk when you were currently drunk, Annabeth was finding. Everything was just so much funnier.

Apparently Jason had also sensed that they were drunk, or maybe he just had heard the deranged cackling coming from the living room, and wanted to make sure they were all still alive.

“Are you guys alright?” he asked, sticking his head through the doorway.

“I’m fantastic. I mean, I don’t know about you two, but I am—” Piper paused, letting out a small hiccup, “Feeling awesome.”

“I feel great,” Hazel agreed, barely able to stop laughing long enough to let the words out.

Annabeth wasn’t sure she remembered how to form coherent words anymore, so she just gave a thumbs up.

“You guys are really drunk,” Jason said, voice an impressive mix of concern and amusement. He walked into the room, picking up one of the empty bottles of wine they’d left on the table and examining the label.

“That’s my man. Very smart,” Piper said, apparently completely seriously, leaning against Jason’s leg.

“Pipes, you realize this wine is like, 20%, right?” Jason asked, ignoring her declaration of his intelligence.

Piper frowned. The expression seemed very exaggerated, or maybe Annabeth’s head was just messing with her. It was very funny either way, and she had to stifle a laugh.

“Shut up Annabeth. Let me see that,” Piper said, holding her hand up for the bottle. Jason very wisely did not let Piper hold the bottle herself, instead holding it at eye level in front of her. She gripped the bottom of it, pulling it towards her and squinting at the label.

“Nevermind. I can’t read anymore,” Piper said, relinquishing her grip on the bottle. That sent Hazel and Annabeth into another fit of laughter. They would probably be drunk even if the wine wasn’t that strong, but it certainly explained why Annabeth felt like she was floating right now. She hadn’t been this wasted since at least freshman year, maybe ever. Everything was a little blurry at the edges, and she was dizzy in a kind of delightful way. She let out one last giggle.

“And that means we are officially at the me-calling-your-boyfriends time of the night,” Jason said, setting the bottle back down on the table. Piper groaned.

“Party pooper,” she grumbled, though she didn’t move herself off his legs.

“Sorry babe,” he said, apologetically, “You guys are welcome to crash here, obviously. I’ll just call Frank and Percy to let them know.”

“S’fine,” Hazel said, yawning and pulling out her phone, “I’ve been texting him. I’ll just tell him now.”

“That’s against the spirit of Girls Night.” Piper said, pointing an accusing finger at Hazel, “You’re a cheater.”

“I had to tell him about your dad’s friend secretly dating his co-star! She was in his favorite movie!” Hazel protested.

Annabeth had not texted Percy tonight, in part because, as Piper had said, it was against the spirit of Girl’s Night, but also because he was probably asleep. Usually he’d stay up and wait for her to get home, even though New Rome was probably the safest city on the face of the planet, and the chances of anything happening to Annabeth on the six block walk between their respective apartments was ludicrously slim. But he’d been practically dead on his feet when she left, and had agreed pretty easily to turn in early when she suggested it.

She immediately felt bad about the prospect of waking him up. She knew she should though— he’d much rather be woken up in the middle of the night than wake up in the morning with her not there. Even though it would take about three seconds to check his phone and realize everything was fine, old habits die hard and it would unnecessarily stress him out. Especially since it was the one night he’d agreed not to stay up and wait for her.

So waking him up was inevitable. Worse, she was starting to realize that she really wanted to be home with him. As comfortable as Piper’s floor was (and given how drunk Annabeth was, it was genuinely pretty comfortable) she just really wanted to be in her own bed, preferably with Percy also in it.

“Annabeth’s gonna want to go home,” Piper predicted, drawing Annabeth out of her thoughts, “She gets boyfriend clingy when she’s drunk.”

“I do not,” Annabeth said, even though she most definitely did.

“You’re a bad liar,” Hazel said, patting Annabeth’s leg sympathetically.

“I’m an excellent liar,” Annabeth said. Under normal circumstances this would be true. Unfortunately being drunk was not normal for her.

“Uh huh.” Piper said, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want Percy to come pick you up.”

Annabeth looked into Piper’s eyes, currently a very pretty green shade. Not as pretty as the shade of green Percy’s eyes were, but nice, for eyes that were not Percy’s. What was she supposed to be doing again?

“This feels like a trick,” Annabeth said, squinting.

“She wants Percy to pick her up,” Piper said, tugging at Jason’s pant leg.

“Yeah, I got that,” Jason said. Annabeth was pretty sure he was laughing at them, but in her current state it was a little hard to tell. “Let me go get my phone.”

Piper whined as Jason walked away, leaning back against the couch.

“Can you even walk, Chase?” she asked, looking dubiously at Annabeth “He’s going to have to carry you home.”

“I can walk,” Annabeth said, very offended even though she didn’t entirely know if her statement was true. Piper snorted.

“You’re lucky Percy is strong.”

“This is all your fault, McLean. Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Annabeth said, aiming a soft kick at Piper’s leg.

“Okay, in my defense I didn’t read the label,” Piper said, pulling her leg back just in time to avoid Annabeth’s foot.

“How is that a defense?” Hazel asked, though she was giggling.

Piper did not have time to further defend and/or implicate herself, because Jason appeared in the doorway again.

“Percy’s coming, he’ll be here in ten.”

“Was he mad?” Annabeth asked anxiously. Piper rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think Percy is physically capable of being mad at you,” she said.

“He thought it was funny, actually,” Jason said, ignoring Piper.

“Told you so,” Piper said smugly.

“Shut up,” Annabeth grumbled.

The next ten minutes passed in a very drunken blur. Now that she had fully realized she was intoxicated, the feeling only seemed to compound, each uncounted drink catching up to her with a reckless abandon. She was vaguely aware of Piper crawling back on the couch to lie down, and Hazel curling up in an armchair. Annabeth just stayed on her little patch of floor. If she got too comfortable, she wasn’t going to want to get up.

She could feel something anxious starting to prickle under the surface of all her artificially happy feelings, but it was sort of difficult to dissect when she couldn’t really think straight.

“Hey, Wise Girl,” a familiar voice said.

Annabeth looked up to see Percy smiling down at her. He looked so pretty she almost started crying. Almost. Crying as a normal human function was fine and good and emotionally necessary and all that, but crying because you were drunk and your boyfriend was hot was just embarrassing.

“I’m drunk,” she told him. Might as well get right to the point.

“Yeah, I gathered,” he said, still looking at her with entirely too much affection, “You feel okay enough to walk home?”

“Yeah. I wanna walk,” Annabeth said, accepting his hand and pulling herself to his feet. If he hadn’t been holding her she probably would have fallen over.

“You sure about that?” he asked skeptically, putting his other hand around her waist, steadying her. She leaned into him, because she always leaned into him, and yeah, okay, maybe she needed his support to walk straight, but what about it.

“Very sure,” Annabeth said. Already she was adjusting to being on her feet. Percy half looked like he wanted to protest, but making it out of the living room seemed to convince him that she was okay to at least make it a few blocks home.

Sitting down on the bench in the front hall to put her shoes on was somehow worse than walking. She managed to shove her shoes into her sneakers, but getting them tied was probably not going to happen.

“I can’t remember how shoelaces work,” Annabeth admitted, looking up at him, “Does that mean I’m screwed?”

“Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news,” Percy said, leaning down to tie her shoe for her. Annabeth shut her eyes tight, then opened them again, trying very hard to focus out her vision. It didn’t work.

“What’s the bad news?” Annabeth asked, because bad news tended to ruin good news, and she’d rather just get it out of the way.

“You’re going to be very hungover tomorrow.” Percy said, straightening up. She thought he was smiling, but considering there were two of his head floating around in front of her, it was kind of hard to tell.

“Are you laughing at me?” Annabeth asked. He was definitely smiling now.

“I would never,” Percy said, wrapping an arm around her waist, “C’mon, lets go.”

Their goodbye was not as extended or elaborate as Annabeth expected, mostly because Piper and Hazel were already half-way to being passed out. Still, there were some waves, some I-love-yous and a partially incoherent apology from Piper, though who it was aimed at was something of a mystery.

Stairs were just a bit tricky, but she managed to stumble down them without seriously injuring herself. She was sure Percy helped somehow, but she could barely tell the difference between his arms supporting her and her own movement.

“What’s the good news?” Annabeth asked, once they were safely on the sidewalk, heading in the direction of her apartment. It was probably cold, but between Percy’s body heat next to her and her own drunkenness, she could barely feel it.

“You haven’t thrown up?” Percy offered, half-heartedly. Annabeth swallowed down a gag.

“Don’t say those words again,” she warned. Percy winced.

“Right. Sorry.”

“That wasn’t even good news, that was irrelevant news,”

“I think it’s excellent news, personally.” Percy said. He was laughing at her again, probably, but she also probably deserved it. Probably. She was wrapped under his shoulder because his arm was still helping hold her up, so it was kind of hard to see his face. She focused her eyes down at the sidewalk in front of her instead, focusing on not tripping.

“You would,” Annabeth said, “You didn’t have good news, did you?”

“I was sort of hoping you would forget,” Percy admitted.

“I never forget,” Annabeth reminded him. She had an excellent memory. Especially for things that had happened only 2 minutes ago. Admittedly the rest of the night was already starting to get a little blurry.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Annabeth felt a small stab of guilt. He was teasing her, sure, but he was also being stupid nice even after she’d dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night to practically carry her intoxicated self back home.

And now she was remembering where that little wiggle of anxiety had been stemming from. He didn’t like being around drunk people. He never really said anything, because he was him and thus was probably allergic to the mere thought of even mildly killing anyone else’s fun for his own personal comfort or convenience. But she knew him well enough that he didn’t need to say anything. He’d never taken up Piper’s offer to go partying with them, even though he encouraged Annabeth to go when she’d wanted to, and he hardly ever drank himself. Even then it was only in social situations, and usually just one drink that he probably didn’t even feel.

So maybe he hadn’t flat out said he didn’t like people being wasted around him, but he had told her about Gabe; how he was a drunk, abusive asshole. It wasn’t too hard to put the pieces together.

“I’m sorry I got drunk,” Annabeth said. It was kind of a lame apology considering she was probably slurring her words a good amount, but she meant it anyways.

She felt something shift in his demeanor— if she was sober, she would know instantly what the slight change in pressure meant. As it was, she was kind of in the dark.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked. She thought he sounded surprised, but maybe she was mishearing, because it would be dumb for him to be surprised by that. At the very least, he should understand she felt bad about ruining his night.

“Because, I got messy and you had to wake up and take me home even though I could have just slept on Piper’s floor,” Annabeth said. Words were sort of flowing out of her without her completely approving them, in a jumbled rush. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t quite remember how to stop it either.

“I don’t mind,” he said, just as she’d known he would. He meant it too, even drunk off her ass she could tell he wasn’t annoyed at her at all, even though he would be totally justified to be.

“But I could have just slept on the floor,” Annabeth repeated, though even the thought caused her to lean deeper into him.

Percy slowed his pace, almost stopping. Annabeth tried looking up at him to decipher what he was thinking, but she couldn’t really make out his face well enough to tell.

“This isn’t just about waking me up, isn’t it?” he asked.

Ugh. Why did she forget in her drunken stupor that he knew her just as well as she knew him? Obviously he was going to pick up on something deeper that was making her feel guilty.

“I just—” Annabeth started, then stopped. It was difficult to pick words precisely enough for the thoughts she was having.

“I know you don’t really like parties and stuff. Or drunk people. And I’m a drunk people right now, so I’m sorry.”

Great job, Annabeth, Annabeth thought to herself. Very delicately put. The lack of subject verb agreement, that was a nice touch. You didn’t sound completely fucked up even a little bit.

God, she hated being drunk.

“I didn’t want you to wake up alone, tomorrow,” Annabeth said, trying again, “But I forgot that me being drunk might be worse, so that's why I feel bad.”

Percy stopped walking. At first Annabeth thought it was in response to what she’d just said, but then she realized they were in front of their apartment building.

Then she realized he wasn’t making any moves to go inside, so it was about what she’d said after all. Instead he turned her around so she could see his face, keeping his arms around her waist in support.

She couldn’t quite read his expression, yet another reason why alcohol was the devil.

“I have a feeling we’re going to need to repeat this conversation in the morning when you’re sober,” he started, “But just for the record, you being drunk doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

Annabeth studied his expression, searching his face for any signs of mistruth. She found none, but she also couldn’t entirely trust her senses at the moment.

“Are you just saying that?” Annabeth asked, suspiciously, “Because that’s the sort of thing you would lie about.”

She had sort of expected him to sigh in annoyance, but to her surprise he smiled instead.

“I’m not lying, I swear.”

“But you don’t like other drunk people,” Annabeth insisted. For some reason the two ideas could not coexist in her mind.

“I don’t like drunk strangers,” he corrected, “You’re not a stranger.”

“Well, duh,” Annabeth said, which made him laugh. She hadn’t meant to, but she liked hearing him laugh, so she would accept it anyways.

“But doesn’t it— I don’t know, bring up bad memories, for you?” she asked, cautiously, “I don’t wanna do that. I don’t even really like being drunk.”

He just shook his head.

“If it did, I would tell you. But it doesn’t, I swear.”

Annabeth frowned. It was probably just her stupid wine brain, but she couldn’t quite connect the dots between all the points he was making.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because,” he said, somehow still smiling, “You’re you.”

“That’s a lame answer.” Annabeth said.

“It’s true,” he said, in that stupid earnest honest voice of his, “I mean, maybe if you started throwing beer cans at my head when you got tipsy it’d be different, but you’re the opposite of aggressive when you’re drunk. You actually get really cuddly, it's kind of cute.”

Annabeth knew he was trying to comfort her, but she also knew that Gabe had done a lot worse than throw beer cans at him. She felt a surge of anger on his behalf, but more powerfully a wave of sadness looking at his upbeat expression. It was so supremely unfair that she wanted to cry, but she just hugged him instead. She was probably proving his point about being cuddly, but she didn’t even care.

“I’m so glad your mom made him into a statue,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Me too,” Percy said, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I love you so much,” Annabeth said, because she really, really did. Like so much. An embarrassing amount, if she were capable of feeling embarrassed about anything having to do with Percy Jackson, which she was pretty sure was impossible.

“I love you too,” he said, kissing the top of her head to prove it.

“Piper said I get boyfriend clingy when I’m drunk,” Annabeth admitted. He laughed, his chest vibrating beneath her.

“She might be right about that.”

“She’s usually right about things,” Annabeth said, without thinking. Then—

“Don’t tell her I said that.”

He laughed again, but it was quieter. She felt it more than she heard it this time.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he promised.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Annabeth said, because she really did feel bad about that, even beyond all the other stuff, “I should have paid more attention to what I was doing.”

She felt him shrug underneath her.

“Stuff happens, it's not a big deal,” Percy said easily, “We’ll just sleep in tomorrow. Speaking of, we should probably go inside.”

As soon as he said ‘go inside’ Annabeth’s brain suddenly registered that she was exhausted. It was late, her head was swimming, and his chest had been very warm and very comfortable. She’d fallen half asleep without even realizing it.

“Inside sounds good,” Annabeth agreed, yawning.

“C’mon, I’ll carry you the rest of the way,” Percy said, finally pulling away, brushing a few stray curls out of her eyes.

Maybe if she had been sober she would have protested. As it was she was pretty happy to climb on his back and rest her head on his shoulder. He looped his arms under her legs and lifted her up easily. Gods, he was stupidly strong. She should appreciate that more.

“I love you,” she mumbled one last time into his shoulder. Whether he’d heard or responded was a mystery to her, because she was asleep before he finished climbing the stairs.

[thequibblah]

directors cut for WTRF? 🥺👉👈 not biased at all obviously just objective third party asking for a directors cut hmmm hmmmmm

literally how could u do this every other word in that fic is an easter egg i can't shut up about..... bestie u are about to have regrets

one thing u should know is that 90% of things in this fic have real-world equivalents and its not even like....... hidden equivalents. serie primo = serie a, for instance. this trend is going to continue and i won't apologise <3

fun fact i named the bar the Bar and the drinks after shapes because i was too lazy to come up with something actually clever

this bit

I’m grinning to myself by the time she approaches my table.

was a very intentional fakeout and if you read this and thought "she" would be lily, feel free to sue me for emotional damages

the biggest conundrum of this AU was, how are jily not going to have met in school when magic exists? the solution was, of course, having multiple magic schools. but i couldn't let one of them have hogwarts, that didn't seem fair. i know i did sort of let lily have it..... but i felt more comfortable making hogwarts a university so there was a legit reason why james wasn't there and in gryffindor (if he'd gone he absolutely would have been)

once solved, i did the fun thing of naming them! ottaline gambol's was easy, i just scrolled through the list of ministers for magic and picked a progressive one. peverell hall was a whim, made all the funnier when lily's reaction is:

Much was made at Otty’s — one of the more progressive magical schools, named for one of the more progressive Ministers of Magic — of schools like Peverell Hall and St. George’s. The latter, I know, is chock-full of pureblooded elite. Peverell Hall is supposed to be slightly better, but still.

dang, it's gonna be funny if she ever finds out james is a descendant of the guy it's named after

fun fact, i included this because peter's question was a real thought i had when reading bond and free, your inspiring writing knows no limits:

The first thing you conjure in Walking Wombat is a yellow quill... “Why yellow?” Peter asked. Eddie gave him a strange look. “Why not?”

i realised i'd put jily in the same conundrum they had in tis the fucking season here:

It’s only then that I remember she’s just bought us drinks. I turn back to my triangle. “Oh, shit.” I suppose I can pawn it off on one of the others.

...but of course the resolution is rather different, and i do so enjoy a james with no filter (aka default james)

I briefly lose control of my brain and my tongue. “Is it too soon to say I’m in love with you?”

by the way, no-filter james will be a theme. wild things sure do run fast but not as fast as this boy runs his mouth!

also, another interesting challenge here was making sure james has a reason to be the way he is in AU. i love playing around with james's childhood/background and seeing how that affects his character while (hopefully!) staying true to who he is. i did that in ttfs by having him move around a lot and not meet the marauders until after the flashback timeline, which is why he's less of a git — he doesn't have the level of comfort in a social setting that canon james has with hogwarts, which is basically his playground from day 2 of first year lol

here, james was probably a fkn nightmare all through school, but of course he gets a big ego check when his quidditch career is derailed. i imagine his years in italy as a continuation of that humility lesson.

I will fully admit I used to be a cocky prick. This is what comes of being a kid who grew up with everything. But one useful thing that the whole fiasco four years ago taught me is humility. I’ve learned how to ask nicely for another chance.

and so much of writing him in wtrf is juggling that typical confidence with the insecurity/fear of losing something he's invested so much in (and has seen slip away before). it's really new to me, because typically i give lily uncertain life circumstances, but i suppose it's both of them in this AU.

the car thing was... i swear didn't start out as smutty, it was purely because i wanted a way to establish lily as muggleborn in a world where the connotations of not having magical parents is very different. more to come on that!

also, come to think of it, by this metric...

I’m now in dangerous territory, since that adds another impressive action to her running tally.

...i think james is already in love with her LOL

this bit:

The street is considered indecent and the downstairs hallway would have our landlady come running at once, so if it pleases Your Honour, we would recommend the sitting room sofa.

...was actually because in draft one lily was a lawyer, but then it was funny enough that i didn't want to take it out, but NOW i realise it makes it sound a little like she's addressing james as your honour, which.... hm. but anyway, we move on

Marc Bolan begs us to get it on through the stereo, vocalising my thoughts exactly.

the song here was initially "you shook me" (h/t @keepingupwithpotters) but i chickened out because zeppelin is SO horny dfjkhgkjs

also, it gave me so much joy to read everyone reacting to lily thinking about her ex (the general vibe was "who the fuck is this guy!!! ew!!!!") — rest assured (or, unassured??) that he has a part to play in all this. anyway, this is one of my fave lines:

He’s just a person, and there’s such a relief in sleeping with James and not the myth of a guy.

because as any come together reader knows....

Just James. Just James. It was never just James.

wtrf lily will learn!

literally the whole world knows i'm obsessed with needle drops that have no subtlety at all, but this one...

We just laugh, tangled together in a sweaty heap, as “Heaven Is in the Back Seat of My Cadillac” plays through the car’s speakers. “On the nose, isn’t it?” James says, sitting up.

...was pure luck, because i was looking up the top hits on the uk singles chart for the week(ish) this scene takes place in so that i could find a song that would realistically play on the radio, saw this, and was like omg the stars really do align

i feel like the thing i enjoy most about writing romance is the importance i get to place in noticing/looking/observing (and sometimes, not noticing!). it's just such a powerful but simple writerly tool, and god knows i am obsessed with pithy descriptions anyway, so this bit i am especially happy with:

James is already waiting, leaning against the car with his hands in his pockets. I feel as though I’m seeing him for the first time, the faint light of the flickering streetlamp catching him in profile: the strong slope of his nose, the hard line of his jaw, the curve of his smile. He studies the facade of our building with open curiosity, and I wonder what he’s looking for.

(one can only imagine james's train of thought in this moment. perhaps "ah. here lives the future love of my life"?)

“Thanks,” she tacks on at the end. I tip my head to one side in confusion. “For what?” “For, I don’t know. Being nice.” She laughs awkwardly. “I don’t do this very much.”

it wouldn't be a quibblah original tee em without some discourse to come about the nature of romantic/sexual relationships, would it? one thing i enjoy about this AU ("one thing" i say as if this isn't the billionth thing in a list) is that i get to write a romantic lily who's squaring that romanticism with what she perceives as the culture of the times. (this is a bit of a staple in all my characterisations of lily, but it is not often paired with casual sex, the complication of all complications!)

oh this bit literally wrote itself like i didn't even pause to think just vomited it out:

In the morning — and it must be early still — the sun streams through Lily’s sorry excuses for curtains with aggression that cannot be ignored. I crack open an eye to find myself sprawled out across her bed, quite literally spread-eagled. She’s attached to my side like a barnacle. Or a very pretty barnacle, anyway.

i'm especially proud of james's voice in this story. i don't often write first-person fic and i was worried how it'd turn out, but i think james as a character/narrator typically colours his own 3rd-person narration so strongly that it ended up a smoother transition than i'd feared!

also i just. i can't resist throwing in comic relief and i hope that this whole segment was a gentle enough preparation for the awkwardness that followed LOL

All of a sudden, the balcony door bursts open. I nearly drop the mug. “What the—” Mary pokes her head around the corner, sporting a righteous smile. “Morning, handsome.” Over her shoulder she shouts, “He’s on the balcony!” I blink. There’s a sound from inside the flat, as if something very large has just been dropped. Then a swear. “Oh, shit,” I say, realisation dawning, “you weren’t looking for me, were you? It’s so loud out here—” Mary cups a hand around her mouth and stage-whispers, “Lily was frantic.” She’s quite violently yanked back, and Lily herself appears in the doorway, slightly out of breath. “Should’ve checked the balcony first,” she says, and closes the door before Mary can insert herself into the space again. “Hi,” I say, which is agreed-upon best practice for greeting a woman you’ve just had fantastic sex with and ideally would like to have sex with again.

to this day i don't know what lily dropped. let's hope it wasn't expensive!

Captained the under-17 English squad at the World Cup some years back, Serie Primo’s lead goal-scorer of last year… Only an injury in what should’ve been his first season at Puddlemere mars his record. I wince reading about it and comparing it to a heap of press clippings. James Potter was hurt, and Puddlemere didn’t fancy paying for him not to play, so they shipped him off to Milan.

(you cannot imagine how much pointed interrogation of my brother it took to gather this intel.) i constantly worry that i've got dates or timelines wrong somehow — you might notice i tweaked under-17, which used to be under-19 until i realised that made no sense (even though in terms of its career importance i would much preferred it to have been u-19.... anyway). i also found out that u-17 football squads don't actually have captains but i said fuck it on that count.

but obviously i started writing this AU for the sports possibilities, only to discover i'm going to have to interfere a great deal with the Timeline (you shall see in future instalments).

god i really went through the whole fic. like i reread the whole thing to do this. here u go clare jfbghjfd

[writefinch]

Family-Owned Small Business

(CN: incest, sex work, mentions of sexual assault & suicidal ideation)

The worst part of my job is administration. Last-minute rescheduling when a client flakes on us. Chasing up payments. Booking accommodation at short notice. Answering messages! Jesus, every time in the last year when I've slumped, sighed, and thought to myself "fuck working, I need a break from all this" it's been when I've opened my messages and seen thirty different texts that need a reply. Some people are fine with it I guess, but for me it's boring, time consuming, and stressful.

Big deal though, right, I mean nobody loves doing admin, why even bring it up? Well, if I tell someone that for work last night I ate a client's cum out of my mom's pussy, I'd expect that they'd get fixated on the sex work and the incest. I'd expect them to freak out and not pay attention to the specifics of what I'm saying. So, first, I'd like that person to know that the thing I hate about my job is probably the same thing that *they* hate about *their* job. I would rather lick my mom's asshole for five minutes than answer emails for five minutes, and I answer a lot of emails.

Do we have to worry about violence, danger, cops, and legal trouble? Yeah, we do. Am I scared of these things? Yeah, sometimes, but I had to worry about all of those things before I started doing sex work. At least now we've got the money to buy our way out of the worst of it.

I'm not saying that what I do with mom is an objectively healthy relationship, let alone a perfect one. If you took me back in time and told me I could pick a completely different life for me and my mom, I'm sure there's a bunch of choices I'd pick over this one. But I never had that choice. I got hurt a lot growing up. I feel like I've finally escaped the things that hurt me, but I know that I've barely started to recover from them.

That's why I'm writing this. We've saved enough money to afford some therapy and my first session is next week. I want help with the fear, the nightmares, the mood swings and insomnia, I want to stop the rush of rage and terror that flows through me every time I see the word 'dad,' I want help untangling the stuff that came out of being told I was a pansy when I was growing up, then figuring out I'm gay, then figuring out I'm a girl, then figuring out I'm all three of those things while I was living in a place that kept trying to kill me for it. What I don't want is for the psych to pin it all on the two least harmful and least fucked-up things about my life, and worse, I don't want them to make me believe it. This journal is a prophylactic, an assessment of my job, my relationships and my life that I can refer back to if and when someone sticks their fingers in my brain and swirls them around.

I'll start with a problem statement: my dad. The memories that hurt the most are the ones where he almost appeared human, the flickers of joy, curiosity and humor that stood out from the bland cruelty that made up the rest of his personality. I'll remember him buying me ice cream or talking about a book or a movie with me, I'll doubt myself and wonder if I just went crazy and cut him out of my life for no reason, and then my brain will hook onto a random act of sadism he inflicted on me.

The physical abuse was bad all on its own, real psycho shit like driving me out into the woods and making me pick through the brush for a switch he could hit me with and a whole lot more I won't go into, but the emotional abuse was worse. When I was eleven, I forgot to feed my cat one day. He gave her away to my uncle, but told me that she'd developed malnutrition and had to be put down. I didn't find out the truth for another two years, when he just let it slip at Easter. He bragged about it, even, like he'd invented a really smart child-rearing technique. I don't want to write too much down here because I don't need to, if anything I want therapy to *stop* everything he did from running through my head. He's a punishment-obsessed sadist, a Baptist, and he works as a judge. Did he ever sexually abuse me? No. Parent of the year, right? He kicked me out for being a fag the day I turned eighteen, so it's ironic that my biggest fear is that he comes looking for me. He doesn't even know I'm a girl.

On the other hand, my mom has had an interesting life. She's kind of a fuck up. When I was one year old, mom and dad split and dad got full custody--being a judge helped with that--while mom left the state. She spent a decade trying to kick a heroin habit and a year and a half in prison for related stuff, got banned from even entering the state I lived in on account of her parole--again, dad being a judge helped with that--illegally emigrated to Canada for a while, and went to Oregon by mistake, doing a mixture of bartending, delivery driving, MDMA dealing and whoring to stay afloat.

The only reason we met again is that I was in the same city staying with friends, also whoring. I don't remember the first time I saw her, but the first time we talked was in a mutual friend's tiny studio apartment with a few other hooker friends. We ended up comparing our Pest Lists, shared a few drinks, and swapped numbers. A week later we fucked, and a month after *that* we realized that we'd Oedipus'd ourselves. It seems funnier now than it did at the time.

That was an emotional time. We cried with joy that we'd found each other, we started tip-toeing around the ideas of rebuilding our lives together, and we agreed to pretend that the sex had never happened. Of course, we got drunk together a week later and fucked again. She's hot! I have a thing for older women, I have a thing for breaking taboos, and I have a thing for being mommied in bed. Blame dad for raising me like this, I dunno.

We started doing sex work as a team after she got a dental abscess. The bill for the hospital stay and the tooth removal was insane, and the dentist straight-up told her that she'd end up with another in a different tooth within a year if she didn't get two root canals. Even when she was recovering, we could only afford fish antibiotics off of Amazon. We crunched some numbers and made some inquiries, and figured out that we could pull in two week's worth of our combined income with one night of mother-daughter stuff.

Our first joint session was with a real estate pervert I'll call Stan, a chubby balding powerlifter in his fifties who we'd both had as a client before. Mom took me over her knees and switched between spanking me and fingering me while he watched. I sucked him off while mom made out with him, made out with my mom with his cock between our lips, licked his balls as mom licked my ass, then let him fuck my ass while mom sat on my face. That was the first half hour. He came six more times before we passed out in the early hours of the morning, and I drifted off nursing his finally-limp cock in my mouth. He paid us the price of a used Volkswagen for our trouble, and I blew him one last time before we left as a thank-you.

Six months later, mom's teeth were fixed, I was on spiro, and we had just under a dozen clients for our "doubles sessions." Only a few of our appointments are ones with me and mom together, three or four a month, we mostly work alone. That's not out of a deliberate choice, it's just that we've got a strict criteria for who we'll double up on.

Trust is one thing: depending on the lawyers we can afford, what we're doing is either kinda illegal or extremely illegal. Since my dad is presumably still a judge, I don't want him to ever find out about this. He'd put us in a prison or a mental institution. We won't do a double session with a client unless we've both had individual sessions with them.

Money is the other thing. Getting your dick sucked by a hot mom while her daughter sucks your balls costs a week's wages for the average person. Hiring us for the night is more like a month's wages. Even in a city like this, there's only a few thousand people that can drop that kind of money on hookers. Then, they've got to *want* to fuck a trans girl and her mom together. Don't get me wrong, more people are into mother-daughter incest than you'd expect, but it's not a universal thing.

Clients are, on average, annoying. It's a fact of life. The thing that all clients have in common is a ton of disposable income and a fondness for fucking hookers. They're not necessarily bad people, but there’s a heavy ‘What can a banana cost, ten dollars?’ vibe to them. It’s not that they’re adrenochrome-drinkers who don’t see regular people as human, it’s more that they don’t have an intuitive awareness that other people don’t have savings accounts, health insurance, an investment property, and four figures of walking-around money at any given time. I guess I'd feel differently if I was like, a concierge or a PA, but there's a lot more pillow talk in my job.

I've had bad and dangerous clients before, there's been at least two occasions where I was pretty sure I was going to die--one where the hospital afterwards stay wiped out four months of income, not counting the month where I couldn’t work--but they were all before I met mom, when I couldn't be so careful about screening prospective clients and dropping them if they threw up red flags. I'm sure we'll get bad clients in the future, but we're in a better place to deal with them safely.

I also wanna write down what a "normal day" is like. Friday was a good example. I woke up early at 9am and cooked breakfast for mom. She was up already doing the laundry. We entertain some clients in our apartment, so we go through a lot of clothes and a lot of sheets. You can't fuck a guy on top of another guy's cum stains, that's rude. Some of the job is Housework But More. We don't really use the main bedroom or the sitting room because we treat them like bed and breakfast guest rooms. It's annoying but every time we have a session without getting an actual hotel or motel room we save like $50 minimum.

After breakfast I epilated, showered, and went for a run. Personal grooming isn't that big a deal in terms of time, I'm not saying I don't spend a lot of time on it, I do, but I'd be spending that time even if I worked in a bar or an office or something. Look: I'm hot. I might have been a weird-looking spotty nerd when I thought I was a boy, but as a girl I'm a fucking dime. I could get like, 25% uglier before it had any impact on my earnings. The only part of personal grooming that's necessary for sex work and I wouldn't do all the time anyway is power-washing my guts an hour before every session.

After lunch, mom went to see some friends and I played Magic for a few hours. At two pm, the actual work started. I picked up the work phone for the first time that day and began answering texts. An hour later I'd cancelled the 6pm appointment, blocked out all of Sunday evening, checked in with a few regulars, and provisionally moved three guys to the 'Time Wasters' list.

I spent a while sexting with a good prospect. He was a good prospect because he paid up-front for the sexting instead of treating it like a free samples platter at Costco. We scheduled a tentative appointment for next Tuesday, when his wife would be out of town on a business trip. Most of the guys I fuck have kinks, and I swear that 'cheating on your wife with a sex worker' is the most common one there is. Do I feel bad about it? At my hourly rate, absolutely not.

Mom got back at half four, so I took a break. We made tacos for lunch together and ate while watching Billions. She nudged me and told me that I need to do my injection, and, well, we have a little ritual for that. I'm scatterbrained and I'm not great with needles, but mom has been incredibly supportive with my HRT, and when I told her I was having problems taking them on time, she came up with a way to make me as comfortable as possible. As soon as the needle is ready, I laid down in her lap and she cradled my head in her arms, pressing her bare chest against my face. I took a nipple into my mouth and nursed it softly while she stroked my hair. She called me a good girl, telling me how proud she is of her daughter, how much she loves me, and asked if I was going to take my medicine like a big girl. On good days I inject myself while she pets me and coos over me, and on bad days she takes the needle and does it for me. As soon as I dropped the needle in the sharps container, mom pressed a Hitachi against my cock and took one of my nipples into her mouth, called me her big brave girl, and asked if I was gonna cum for mommy.

As usual, the answer was yes.

Late afternoon and early evening is when the messages start flowing in, especially on Fridays, when the kinds of people with hooker money have either left work early and thinking about getting laid, or are still held up at work and are desperately thinking about getting laid. This kind of messaging gets trickier, because it comes down to what I'm providing. Like, setting up a session is the kind of normal administrative stuff that's baked into the price of a session. It's also partly a sales job, so I'm naturally flirty and solicitous, and because I do sex work I talk openly about sex.

However, *sexting* is not normal administrative stuff. If I'm sending you messages for jerking-off purposes, I can charge by the hour or by the text but I will insist on charging for it. Also, it's not just sex that me and mom provide. There's a reason that 'companionship' is an old euphemism for whoring, it's because whores are good company. I'm a good listener and I don't judge, which means I'm like the fun parts of a therapist but without all the homework and self-improvement. I'm (unsurprisingly) friendly with all of my clients, and I have more than a few clients and former clients who I'd consider good friends and vice versa. I talk to a bunch of them outside of a business context, especially the ones I met outside of my job, and that's a normal part of maintaining a pool of clients for any sales job, but on the other hand... it's a demand on my time and it's a part of my services. I can and have bluntly told guys that they're wasting my time when it comes to uncompensated sexting, but the platonic stuff requires a lighter touch.

One of my regulars, Fintech Pete, sent me a message. Two messages later, he sent me $100, and we're off. Describing in gratuitous detail exactly how I'm going to suck his cock, begging him to fuck me until my clit is drooling all over the sheets, sending him feet pics, things of that nature. Pete is great for sexting because he barely jerks off while he's doing it, he saves all the messages and pictures and jerks off to them later, because he's got some biohacking routine where he only cums once a week. He said once that part of the reason he hires sex workers is that he takes each nut a lot more seriously if he's paying three digits minimum for the privilege. He does this teleconferencing report with the board of directors at his company four times a year, and every time he hires me to kneel under the desk in his home office and suck him off while he makes his presentation.

Anyway, while we were going back and forth like that, he mentioned that I'd made a joke one time about doing a joint session with my mom. I told him it wasn't a joke, and to cut a long story short, half an hour later I was asking mom if she was up for an overnight session starting at 9pm. She agreed, Pete confirmed, so we both got ready--think getting dolled up for a night out but with a more thorough enema--and drove to his place. He lived outside of town in a two-bedroom suburban home, alone with his two dogs.

As soon as we were parked in his garage I did the safety call in front of him: I rang a friend of mine, told her we were visiting a friend, told her it was at the address I sent her earlier, and told her we'd call her again tomorrow morning. Was it really necessary to do that with someone like Fintech Pete? No, but practice makes permanent. If you let these things slip when there's no danger, eventually they'll slip when there is danger.

Now, I don't want to imply that I'm in a lot of danger! There's a reason that most of the faces you'll see on the Trans Day of Remembrance are of poor black and brown women, because real danger comes when you can't turn skeevy jobs, when you can't afford to take precautions, when you have to make the choice over and over between maybe starving and maybe getting murdered. I'm white, I've got a good support network, and I've been relatively lucky in that I can do all these things to minimize my risks. I've still got to do them, though! Things like safety calls are a good habit to get into and it helps all sex workers if there's an expectation that they've all got someone looking out for them.

...I get that there is some bravado creeping into this journal. I start off saying that admin is the worst part of the job and a page later I flippantly mention that the job has put me in the hospital. On a day to day basis yeah, the admin is the bit that sucks the most, but if you offered me a deal where the admin is twice as bad but I never took that session, I’d take it in a heartbeat. This job has left me with some scars. Any time something cold touches my wrist I get a vivid flash of the first time I had my hands zip-tied behind my back in a cop car. I've had nightmares all my life, and more than a few of my nightmares are about stuff that's happened since I got into sex work.

If it seems like I’m downplaying it, it’s because the harrowing stuff is where the job has gone wrong, it’s not baked into the everyday stuff, and most importantly it has nothing to do with my mom. The work I've done with her is some of the least stressful and dangerous I've had since I started this job, and whatever wounds I have, she's not the one who caused them.

On a more positive note, a cool thing about doing sessions with my mom is that we can dress pretty conservatively and still have it come off as insanely lewd. Mom wore a black cocktail dress with an imitation pearl necklace and her hair up in a bun, I was in a white blouse under a lambswool sweater, a pleated short skirt, cheap dark tights--Pete has a thing for tearing them--and patent leather shoes. When you're going to suck a guy's world entirely off alongside your mom, the more modestly you're dressed, the more perverted it looks. Out in the suburbs it also means you get to avoid the microskirts and fishnets look which screams to the neighbors 'I've just hired a pair of hookers' or the mid-range raincoat over microskirts and fishnets look which screams 'I've just hired a pair of pricey hookers."

Pete's living room looks like the back room of a Radio Shack, computer guts everywhere, every surface turned into a makeshift workbench. It's not a suitable place for lovemaking; I don't want to have to pull shards of a soundcard out of my perineum. His bedroom is a lot neater, with a king-sized bed to sit on, a ton of pillows to lounge up against, and a TV mounted on the wall. Mom poured out some wine, a mid-range red zinfandel that we'd picked up on the way, Pete brought out some imported dark chocolate that costs like $40/kg, and I swung my legs over his lap and turned on the Food Network. I took a bite of chocolate, mom took a sip of wine, and before either of us swallowed she pulled me into a deep kiss, mixing the wine and the chocolate. It's a good combination, and Pete enjoyed the show.

The night started off with chatting. None of us were in any rush, not with an overnight session, and since Pete has been a client for each of us for a while it was a pretty relaxed atmosphere. Pete's fingers danced over my thighs, absent-mindedly plucking ladders into the fabric as we talked baseball, business, sex work, the difference between the gentrified fag bar downtown and the really gentrified fag bar downtown, programming and other nerd shit, local politics, the contestants on Cutthroat Kitchen, just normal stuff. Mom and Pete started talking about fancy cooking stuff so I started annoying them both by claiming that sardines are just fully-grown anchovies, that DOP labels are all fake, and that instant grits are better than the regular ones until mom jabbed me with a finger and told me that my mouth should be put to better use elsewhere.

You know how some people say "Cilantro tastes like soap, that's why it's good?" Same thing for how weird it feels to go down on my mom. The first time I ever jerked off, watching a 144p clip of Rocco Sifreddi fucking a girl in the ass while flushing her head down a toilet bowl, knowing that this meant I was going to go to Hell unless I begged God for forgiveness and never did it again, I came so hard I passed out. It feels good, it feels wrong that it feels so good, and it feels even better because it feels so wrong.

She was already wet when I got between her legs. I kissed her clit and started licking, her bush tickling my nose and her thighs squeezing my ears. Fabric rasped over my head as she hiked her dress up to run her hand through my hair. Everything was muffled but I could hear kissing and clinking, and I knew that mom was undoing Pete's belt and jeans to give him a Catholic-quality handjob.

I got mom worked up, bucking her hips and getting all breathy, until she asked me to get up here and give her some help. I crawled up to his groin and winked up at him. He blushed and grinned back. Pete's not a bad-looking guy. I mean, I don't care about looks in general, I guess I can look at someone and say that objectively they're ugly, and if someone is beautiful it adds something to the experience, but like... it doesn't really figure into it. Obviously most johns don't look like supermodels but they're not uniformly ugly, as I said before the thing that johns have in common is being horny guys with a lot of disposable income. Still, Pete is towards the better-looking side of that scale.

...Okay there is one thing about him that's weirdly common for my clients, I call it 'John Balding:' where a guy is losing his hair but in a slow, uneven, and kinda weird pattern, so that even when they cross into being more bald than not, they never bite the bullet and shave it all off. Pete is only like 30% of the way through that process so it doesn't look terrible yet, but he's on that track.

Anyway, back to the sex. A fun thing about double blowjobs is that you can take them a whole lot slower than solo blowjobs. Me and mom have had a lot of practice so we go at about 1/4th speed and it feels twice as good. She started off by wrapping her hand around the shaft, slowly stroking it while she softly kissed the tip, and I licked his balls, gently lapping at one, then the other, cleaning away the day's sweat and musk, carefully taking both of them into my mouth at once. Mom swallowed half his length, and I started kissing my way up his shaft as she pulled back up, my lips touching the head as hers reached the very tip. She grabbed me by my hair and pulled me into a deep French kiss with his cock in the middle, precum mixing with spit, moaning as we felt him twitch and grunt, mom's hand on his balls and my hand on his shaft. We broke the kiss and repeated it in reverse, taking his cock in my throat as mom kissed her way down to his balls. He came after five minutes of gentle little schoolgirl kisses on each side of his cock from the pair of us. The first rope caught mom on her cheek, the second hit her hair, but I wrapped my lips tight around the head and sucked him dry before he could spill another drop.

You can't give a client a mother-daughter blowjob and not snowball the cum back and forth in front of him. We've done it enough times to get the timing down: wait until he sits up straight, because if you don't he'll be too dazed from nutting in your mouth to really appreciate it. Make sure he's looking at you, move your hair out of the way so it doesn't obstruct his view, open your lips so that a trickle of jizz almost sloshes out, move in close to your mom so that your noses are touching and it's clear that you're about to kiss, sink a palm into her tits as she grabs your ass, and then you gotta really go for it: wide-mouthed, feral, energetic, like you're trying to reach each other's sinuses. If a little bit of cum spills out because you're being so sloppy, that's a sign that you're doing it right. You're going to lick it up afterwards anyway.

We broke the kiss, I licked mom's face clean, and we took a break. We drank some more wine, he offered us cigarettes--the coolest clients are the ones that let you smoke indoors--and we cuddled and relaxed for a while with Guy's Grocery Games playing on the TV. Pete went to get some water, and returned with three bottles and a strip of Cialis. He downed two pills, we both stripped off--it was sweltering by that point--and got ready for the next round.

Mom played with his nipples and I got between his legs again, this time going lower than his balls to eat his ass out. Rimming is a trusted client privilege like the mom-daughter stuff is, except it's less about trusting them in the legal sense and more about trusting that it won't be grainy down there. I like it when a client is clean enough to rim, because I'm extremely good at it. Mom says she's better, she claims she once made a guy no-touch cum with a rimjob, but I don't fucking believe her.

He got hard after a minute of digging my tongue into his ass, but his cock was still super-sensitive so we figured we'd tease him for a while longer. We swapped places, mom ate his ass while he made out with me, squeezing my tits and playing with my cock. I like it when guys touch my tits, my cock is... fine, I guess? I don't viscerally dislike people touching it but it doesn't do much for me. After a minute of that he reaches around and works a finger into my asshole, which is much more my speed.

By the time he was two knuckles deep I looked down and saw his cock twitching, leaking precum onto his stomach. He seemed pretty worked up. I kissed his neck, nipped at his ear, and whispered, "Do you wanna breed me, Mister?"

He sure did.

I use condoms unless I've got an extremely compelling reason not to, and mom has a cool trick for getting them on. She grasped Pete's cock around the base, placed her lips around the tip, deepthroated the entire thing in a single stroke, and as she slowly lifted her head back up, his cock was neatly fitted with a condom.

As soon as I lubed up he put me on my back, pushed my ankles up to my ears,  pressed his cock against my hole and sunk into me inch by inch. He muffled my moans with a kiss and rutted me into the bed. I gotta give it to him, all that biohacking and cardio is doing something right because he railed me at a fast, steady pace until my dick was leaking all over my tummy and I couldn't form sentences in my head any more. Mom made out with him as he finished, and at that point I was just babbling nonsense. He was gentle and cautious as he pulled out of me, stroking my hair as I reached down to take off his condom. I poured the contents out over my tits, slumping back against the headboard as mom licked them clean.

It wasn't yet midnight by then, and we went on like that through the night. Licking his feet, mom-daughter 69, him sucking my cock while mom rode his dick like a Sorority cowgirl champion, more wine, more double-blowjobs, tacking an extra $200 onto the fee for the privilege of pissing in my mouth instead of having to get up to go to the bathroom, a whole buffet of fun whore stuff.

We woke up at around ten in the morning, stayed for breakfast, then said our goodbyes. Me and mom thanked him for his custom, and he thanked us for a good time. By midday we were at home, we both showered, checked our calendars, messaged our evening clients to confirm that they were still on, and then... well, the rest of the day kinda evaporated. I played Demons' Souls until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, passed out in bed, and woke up when my alarm went off in the evening.

That's one of the things I don't like about overnight sessions: you're technically only spending like, ten to twelve hours with a client, and for some of that time you're either not fucking or actively asleep, but it kinda feels like it destroys two days. By the time it's scheduled, everything in the rest of the day is either preparing for it or doing it, and when you get back it takes the rest of the day just to recover. I don't like that part of my job, and if I sit down I can probably go through a whole bunch of things I don't like about my job. I still know that my job isn't a *bad* job, because the last time I had a bad job it was at a chicken processing plant. Know how I know that the chicken job was bad? Because I excused myself for a bathroom break four hours into the shift, walked off site, and never came back.

You know what, there's another reason I know that this isn't a bad job and that mom isn't a bad mom, and I guess it's part of the reason I've written all this down in the first place. I was seven years old when I first wanted to die. By the time I got to high school, suicidal thoughts were just the radio static in my brain. I can't remember any point after like, grade school where I didn't daydream about suicide every single day.

Now? I sometimes go for weeks without thinking about killing myself. It hasn't gone away completely, it still pops up when I'm upset or stressed out or tired or really hungry, but what I do is I talk to mom about it, and she talks me out of it. I feel guilty sometimes about putting that pressure on her, and taking that pressure off is part of the reason I'm going to therapy I guess.

I hope it works out.

I really think it will.

[iwach4n]

Reminisce (Iwaizumi x fem!Reader)

This is incredibly self indulgent but by god i want to marry Iwa. I want to marry him so bad.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

warnings: mild swearing

word count: 1889

read time: 7 minutes

11:30am was not a particularly early time to wake up, but considering that you had returned to the hotel room at 3:00 after hours apon hours of drinking, dancing and chatting with friends and family, it was actually quite impressive. You looked and felt a mess, with sweat remaining from the shower you had been too tired to take, hair sticking out in every direction and remnants of makeup, sloppily removed in early hours of the morning, smudged around your face. And yet, Iwaizumi was still looking at you like you were the most amazing thing on Earth.

"What?" you laughed, shifting closer to him under the covers.

"Just looking at my beautiful wife," he responded, with an expression so lovestruck it made you giggle more.

"I'm never going to get used to that."

It was his turn to laugh, pulling you closer against his bare chest, "You better, Mrs Iwaizumi, because I'm going to keep saying it."

You smiled with an expression mirroring his own. In the five years you had been together, you never got tired of mornings like these. Waking up in his arms, taking in every detail of his face, memorising exactly how his body felt pressed against yours. And now you were married. There was nothing better in the world.

"What did I do to get so lucky?" he mused, making you shove him half-heartedly with a laugh.

"Save the compliments for when I don't look like shit."

His arms didn't relent, wrapping around you and pulling you ontop of him. A soft kiss was pressed to your lips.

"I'm not kidding. If someone had told me seven years ago that I'd get to marry you, I'd be overjoyed, and also never believe them," Iwa said, before catching himself on his words.

"Seven years ago? You mean like first year?" you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice as you rested your chin on his chest. He groaned a little in embarrassment.

"Okay, so I may have lied when I said I started liking you at the start of third year."

You couldn't help but start laughing for real now.

"We didn't even talk in first year!"

"I know, but I was sixteen! What was I supposed to do, not fall for the cute girl who helped me with my English homework?" he defended as you rolled off him in your laughter, finding his reaction funnier than the actual situation.

"You're so adorable," you said, pecking him on the lips and giggling at his red face.

"Asking you for help with that English was probably the best decision of my life." His hand found its way to yours under the covers, calloused fingers intertwining with your soft ones.

"I can't believe that's actually what got you," your laughs were softer now. At the start of your relationship, you had been a little insecure as to whether Hajime liked you as much as he said he did, but you'd grown past that now. Though you sometimes wondered quite what he saw in you, you knew he wasn't lying about anything.

"You were pretty and nice to me and you told Oikawa to fuck off. At the time, that was like, my dream woman."

A snort escaped from your mouth as you nestled into the crook of his arm, tracing patterns along his chest.

"I think the moment I really fell for you was when I first saw you play in a match," you mused, remembering being dragged to watch with your friends in second year and not regretting it one bit. Your husband gave a small hum of encouragement, as if telling you to continue, so you did.

"I mean, I thought you were hot and cool and whatever before, but on court, you were just so... driven. You kept pushing for one more point," you said, eyes glued to your finger as it wove its way through invisible paths along his torso, "it was like a whole new side of you."

As you spoke, he had buried his face in your hair, and you felt him smile against your scalp.

"Honestly, that's the only way you would've fallen for me. I'd have been much more awkward if I'd known you were watching."

"Looking back, you were so awkward," you recalled, thinking back to your highschool days, "but at the time, I just thought you hated me or something."

"For real?" It was his turn to rumble in laughter.

"You were always avoiding me!" you said in defence, pouting at his growing laughs.

"I'm sorry for making you think that," he said, unable to keep the grin off his face, "you were so ridiculously pretty that I got nervous. And it's only gotten better from there."

"Someone's sappy today," you giggled as he rolled over, hovering over you. He only hummed in response, planting a sweet kiss on your lips, "but seeing as we're remembering the old times, remember when you first asked me out?"

These words were enough to make him groan and collapse off of you, arm going up to cover his reddening face.

"I wish I didn't. Most embarrassing moment of my life."

"I think I need to refresh your memory," you managed through giggles.

"No!" he groaned, "you do not."

"Oh, I'm going to."

Hajime always got embarrassed when you brought up how he asked you out on your first date because it was a prime example of how awkward he'd been at the start of your relationship. You still remembered it vividly, and his reaction to you telling the story was almost as cute as the image in your head, so you would remind him every chance you got.

"Can we talk about the proposal instead? I was a lot cooler with that one."

You ignored his pleas, beginning your narration, "Imagine it-"

"You told this like fifty times yesterday. Stop," he was laughing too, despite being bashful.

"This isn't just what I told yesterday. This is the unabridged version, just for you," you said, and he finally gave up on arguing with a sigh, "imagine it; the last week of third year, and it was coming to the end of a maths lesson - a class I didn't share with the hero of our story. In my head, I was thinking about the lovely ace, who is currently looking at me like if someone was to shoot him, he wouldn't complain, but that his dying wish would be for me to shut up. I was wondering if I should make a move on him."

Iwaizumi's face turns from one of annoyance to curiosity - he hasn't heard this part of the story. You'd never really told him what went through your head that day. Noticing his change of expression, you decided to expand on that train of thought.

"You see, there was only a week left. After that, I might not get the chance. I might never see him again - at least, this is what I thought, as I didn't know that we were both going to the same university the next year. Part of me thought that it was now or never, but I decided on never. He was cool and popular and always seemed confident. If he liked me, I thought, he would make a move himself. This thought crossed my mind as I began to pack my things, and then, as if on cue-"

Iwaizumi's arm returned to covering his face. This was his least favourite part of the story.

"My knight in shining armour burst in, having been let out of his class early, and shouted, in front of the whole class, '(Y/N), I really like you, and have for a while! Please go on a date with me!'"

Your husband let out a long groan at this, the embarrassment still fresh despite it having been five years. Usually, this is where you stopped. It was pretty much the end of the story. But you continued.

"Naturally, I agreed. But, as if things weren't already awkward enough, our good old friend Oikawa decided to pipe up from behind you-"

"Oh my god," Hajime interrupted momentarily, "I forgot about this bit."

"And the somewhat sweet confession was finished off with the lovely note of 'Woo! They're finally gonna bone!'. The end."

It appeared the little addition shook Iwa out of the annoyed mood the story usually put him in, because he uncovered his face and laughed reminiscently.

"We both got detention for that," he chuckled, pulling you back into his chest.

"Was it worth it?" you asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.

"Take a look around. We're married. Of course it was worth it," what was probably the hundreth kiss of the day was placed on your forehead, "I'd sit through a million detentions to keep you with me."

"Good thing you don't have to. I don't think I'd be able to go a million hours without you," you said, beginning to fiddle with his hair, "can I try and plait your hair?"

"No," was the short answer, "we're gonna talk about that first date I asked you on."

"Why?" you asked, cocking your head as your fingers left his hair. The date had been nice, but other than the fact it was your first with your now husband, there had been nothing particularly special about it.

"Don't think I've forgotten about when you tried to say you were hungry and instead said horny, and were so shocked by the fact that your mouth did that that you spilt your drink all over both of us."

"Oh my god, even I forgot about that."

"I'm gonna give you a dramatic narration."

"No!"

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was taken up like this - reminiscing about notable moments in your relationship. Everything from your first kiss, which had turned an uneventful 'date' of running errands together into a special one, to your first 'I love you's, which had slipped out on a late night call. Each of you gave vivid retellings of meeting the other's parents for the first time, which had gone swimmingly for Hajime, but had been incredibly awkward for you until his father made some comment about thinking his son was gay until then because of the amount of time he spent with Oikawa. That really broke the ice between you, but it put Iwaizumi into an adorably disagreeable mood for the rest of the night. Iwa finally got to talk about the proposal, which you had to admit had been very romantic, and then you talked about the wedding the night before.

Eventually, you moved on from the past and talked about the future. Where to go for your honeymoon, where you'd like to settle down one day, how many kids you'd like and when. You decided you'd move to the outskirts of Tokyo, and start a family in your late twenties. You settled on two kids, but maybe a third a little later on. And then, when you retired, you'd move to the Okinawa prefecture and live by the beach. By the time you got hungry enough to need to get up, you felt like your entire life was planned.

You couldn't wait to make it real and have more things to reminisce about.

[producingtrashycontent]

took me a bit to get my words strait, the idea is like the Black Bulls and Blue Roses have to do a joint mission or something, they each send Magna and Sol not knowing who the others were going to send. so sol and magna have to get along to get the mission finished. something happens and sol gets hurt, and magna has to help her. he asks why she hates him, she explains why she hates men, and he just talks some sence into her. not sure on the rest though.

OMG I FINALLY FINISHED! Damn this took me much longer than I thought, but here it is. I personally don't think it's my best writing, but I blame that on finals. I also made this longer than my usual requests. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

     Magna took a hesitant glance around the common space. There was no one there, but Magna could never be too sure. That pudding thief was out to get him. This time, Magna would make sure he didn't lose his pudding to that jerk. With one more hesitant glance, Magna swiftly opened the pantry and snatched a pudding cup from one of the lower cabinets.

     The lightning bolt flew past Magna's head and struck the pantry. He'd been spotted. Magna dodged another lightning bolt that struck the place he'd been standing moments before. A nearby hallway appeared in Magna's peripheral vision. He bolted for the hallway, but he ran into someone before he could leave.

     "The hell? It was peaceful while I took my dump. Now I have to deal with this?"

     Magna dropped down to one knee immediately. "Captain Yami Sir!"

     "Better run Magna, or your clothes might catch fire!"

     Yami sighed before snapping his fingers and pointing to the ground in front of him. Luck appeared instantly and sat on the floor beside Magna.

     "Hey Captain! You finally going to fight me? How much do you want?"

     "Damnit Luck. I'm not going to fight you. I have a special mission."

     Magna nearly jumped. A secret mission! This would definitely get him stronger than Luck. Yami ignored Luck's bouncing and pointed at Magna.

     "You. I need you for this mission. It's going to be a joint mission with a member of the Blue Rose Knights. We can only have one or two people go, so I'll send you this time. It'd be too much trouble for both you and Luck to go."

     "Awww," Luck groaned. "But I want to go too!"

     Yami ignored Luck's plea and turned him full attention to Magna. "You leave here tomorrow. I need you to investigate some suspicious dealings going on near Rayaka Village. Since you lived there as a kid, I'd figured you were best fit for the job."

     "Thank you very much Yami Sir!" Magna stood and saluted. "I won't let you down!"

•~•~•~•

     Sol groaned as her squad mates all chatted about their boyfriends. What was the appeal with men anyway? They were all dirty, idiotic, and other things that Sol couldn't remember off the top of her head.

     "I went to the beach with my boyfriend a few months ago, and he was so ripped!"

     "Oh wow, really? I want a peek of that!"

     "No way! He's mine." The two girls chuckled between each other.

     Sol rolled her eyes as she poked at her dinner. It was very hard to eat when her squad mates would talk about men non-stop. Remembering the men who disappointed her, Sol scoffed and shoved some vegetables into her mouth. Her food didn't taste as good when she reminisced about her past.

     The chatter between the girls quickly died down. Sol automatically saluted when she spotted her captain out of the corner of her eye.

     "Big Sis!"

     Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Sol, I've told you before to call me 'Captain', not Big Sis."

     "Ok, Big Sis!"

     Ignoring Sol, Charlotte walked away, but she motioned for Sol to follow her. After some time, Charlotte finally stopped.

     "So, what do you need me for?"

     "I have a special mission for you."

     Sol smiled. "Me? Really?"

     Charlotte nodded. "I need you to investigate something near Rayaka Village. You will be working with a member of the Black Bulls. Get yourself ready. You leave early tomorrow morning."

     With a glimmer in her eye, Sol saluted her captain. "Yes!"

•~•~•~•

     Magna squatted on a rock that overlooked Rayaka from a cliff. The breeze blew gently around Magna as he stole another glance around the area. It seemed like the perfect day for a secret mission, and yet, his partner from the Blue Rose Knights hadn't arrived yet.

     "Damn, when are they gonna get here? It's almost noon. The sun's gonna roast me before they get here." Magna grumbled.

     "No way, funglasquent?"

     Magna whipped his head around at the sound of the voice from behind him. His eyes landed on a familiar, tall figure.

     "You? The giant girl from the Royal Knights Exam?"

     Sol groaned. "Unbelievable! Why did I get stuck with you?"

     "Same question to you, giant girl!" Magna sighed as he stole another glance at Rayaka. "Captain Yami gave me this mission because I lived in this town when I was young, so I can navigate around here better than my squad mates."

     Sol hesitated a moment. That was a valid reason for the short punk to come along on this mission. Charlotte didn't give her an explicit reason for coming. It must be because she was the one who was best suited for this mission.

     "Well, my captain believed I was the one best suited for the mission."

     "Even so, you gotta listen to me this time. I know this village like the back of my hand. If we want to catch those magic item smugglers, you have to follow my orders." Magna spoke dismissively as he turned his attention back to Rayaka. He usually wasn't as into missions as he was now. Any threat to Rayaka was a personal threat against Magna.

     "Who died and made you captain?" Sol spat. "I don't see why you have to lead the mission."

     "Ugh, don't you get it, giant girl? I lived here. I know all the best places to hide and store expensive things. I can catch those smugglers. Now, we have to cooperate to get this mission done."

     Sol pondered Magna's words for a moment. She did want to please Captain Charlotte and finish this mission, but she didn't want to listen to a man of all people. Listen to a man or finish the mission successfully. Those were Sol's two options. After a few moments, Sol settled on the best option: listening to the glasses punk.

     "F-fine." Sol spat. "I'll listen to you."

     "Finally!" Magna cheered. "See that Yami Sir? I'm following in your footsteps!"

     Not wanting to watch Magna cheer, Sol turned her eyes to Rayaka. She spotted a group of people flying on brooms a good distance away from the village.

     "Hey, funglasquent. There's a group of people approaching Rayaka from the east." Sol tapped her foot on the ground as Magna stopped his cheers to look in the direction Sol mentioned. Sure enough, there was a large group of people approaching. They stopped abruptly and descended into the forest below.

     "That's kinda sus..." Magna muttered.

     "Sus?" Sol echoed.

     Magna nodded. "Yeah, sus. Short for supilicious or something."

     "Ugh, you mean suspicious, don't you?"

     "Exactly."

     Sol had wanted to laugh, but that would mean admitting his joke was funny. He was serious, which made it funnier. Sol had a feeling he wasn't joking though.

     "Alright tall girl! Hop on my Crazy Cyclone and we'll get to those bandits in a jiffy." Magna leaned against his broom, which was modified to look like some weird contraption.

     Rolling her eyes, Sol made her way over to the Crazy Cyclone and sat on the back. "This thing is horrid, but at least it matches your punky vibe."

     "Aww thanks!" Magna smiled as he sat on the Cyclone before freezing. "Wait, that wasn't a compliment!"

     "Let's get a move on, funglasquent."

     Magna started up the Cyclone as he grumbled under his breath. Before they took off, Magna told her to hold onto him somewhere. Sol considered letting go and jumping off, but she reluctantly gave in and held on. She wanted to complete the mission Charlotte gave her. Nothing would stop her, not even a gross man.

•~•~•~•

     Eventually, Magna landed the Crazy Cyclone close to where the group landed. It was definitely dangerous for Sol and Magna to approach the large group by themselves, but they were the only ones who could.

     "Why did that guy disappear into a hole in the ground?" Magna pointed at a nearby tree with an odd-looking branch.

     "Did he?" Sol asked. She doubted that was possible, but thieves would do anything for money.

     Magna nodded. "Yeah. He pulled on that funky looking tree branch. I think we should follow him."

     "Whatever idea you have is dumb. We'll probably get killed going down there."

     Magna crossed his arms. "Well what's your plan, O Wise One?"

     Sol stared off to the side before shrugging her shoulders. Groaning, Magna turned his attention back to the tree. As he thought about what to do, an idea struck him like Luck shooting him with lightning.

     "Hey, tall girl."

     "Yeah?"

     Magna rubbed his hands together. "What if we wait here for them to come out!"

     Sol arched an eyebrow but said nothing. Magna kicked a nearby pebble. "Damn, that sounded way cooler in my head."

•~•~•~•

     After several hours of waiting, the sun was setting and Sol and Magna had done nothing. The suspects hadn't come out of their little hole in the ground. Sol was seriously considered heading home until she imagined how her captain would react. After a few more moments of thought, Sol decided to stay.

     "Ugh, I thought this was supposed to be a secret mission!" Magna grumbled from the ground. "I was ready to kick some ass!"

     "I'll kick your puny little man ass if you don't shut up."

     Magna sat up defiantly. "Damn, what's with you giant girl? What did I ever do to you?"

     Sol turned her face away. "You're a man. That's my problem with you."

     "So, you hate me for something I can't control?"

     Before Sol could retort, there was some rumbling nearby that shook the ground. Sol felt a body slam into her and knock her to the ground. Magna fell on top of her as a boulder rolled over the place she stood moments ago.

     "Funglasquent, you saved me." Sol muttered.

     Magna smirked. "Yep. That's what a real man does."

     Magna offered his hand to Sol, who slapped it away and stood on her own. A small pile of rocks fell from the small hill they camped beside to reveal an entrance to a cave. Sol jerked her head in the direction of the cave.

     "Hey, funglasquent. I think we should head there."

     Magna shook his head rapidly. "Umm, I don't know. That cave is kinda spooky. What if something tries to eat us?"

     Sol smirked. "I thought you were a "real man". Or are you a scared little whimp who can't complete a task even when life opens up a path for him?"

     Magna seemed to physically shake off his insecurities. "Y-yeah! I'm a real man! I'll lead the way."

     Sol allowed herself to chuckle at Magna's antics as he tried to overcome his nerves and step into the daunting cave.

•~•~•~•

      It was odd that they walked for so long without encountering anything. Eventually, the cave got dark enough to where Magna had to create a small flame to be able to see. Magna kept one hand against one side of the cave and Sol kept hers on the other. The cave grew colder the further they walked. There were a few times when Sol and Magna slipped on the smooth stone. The stone sloped gently downward, but as they walked further, the ground sloped more. Eventually, Sol and Magna felt the stone slope closer together until they found an opening in the stone.

     Voices floated in from the opening in the stone. Magna and Sol hid on either side of the opening. There was a group of people discussing different subjects while tossing around what appeared to be magic items between each other. Magna slipped into the cavern and ushered Sol to follow him. They eventually found a stack of boxes to hide behind and listened in on the conversation.

     "If we take this route, there will be fewer Magic Knights."

     "That route may have less Magic Knights, but the Magic Knights that are there are from the Crimson Lion Kings. They're too powerful. My route has more of them, but these guys are from the Aqua Deer. They're much weaker."

     "Either way, we have to get these tools across the Grand Magic Zone before the end of the month. The Lords and Lady await us."

     "Magic item smugglers," Sol whispered. "Should've known."

     Magna clenched his fist. "Damn those bastards."

     Magna missed the moment the smugglers fell silent, but he noticed the deafening silence a moment later.

     "Someone's here."

     "I sense some weak mana from over there!"

     Sol felt her heart leapt into her throat. Grabbing Magna's hand, she pulled him into a crouched position so they'd be ready to run at a moment's notice. Unfortunately, that position wouldn't help Sol avoid the box that got knocked into her head by a blast of magic. Sol didn't feel her body hit the ground, but that was probably due to the adrenaline in her system. She could sense Magna firing off some spells before he slung her over his back and ran. He turned several times to shoot spells at their assailants, but he spent most of his energy into running. Sol felt her limbs grow heavy to the point she couldn't move them anymore. A dull throb came from her head, but Sol was too tired to pay much attention to it. As Magna stopped shooting spells to break out into a sprint, Sol felt the darkness overtake her vision.

•~•~•~•

     Sol woke up to the sound of a crackling fire. Her front side was warm due to the fire, but her back was frozen. As she opened her eyes, she spotted Magna poking at a fire in a pit. When Magna spotted Sol moving, he gave her a small smile and wrapped a cloth around her.

     "Hey, you feeling ok? I know getting hit in the head by a metal crate is gonna mess with ya a bit, but I hope you're not too messed up."

     Sol squinted at Magna. Why was he being nice? In her life, men were never like this. They were all bark and no bite. But Magna was different. He seemed to represent men as they were portrayed in stories. He was very kind and chivalrous.  Sol's mouth didn't seem to catch up with her mind, because she gave Magna a nasty answer that she immediately regretted.

     "I'm fine. I could've done fine without you. All you men are worthless. I would recover better without you."

     Magna frowned, although this frown was more hurt than anger. "Well, damn. Sorry I tried helping you to make sure you didn't die. Unfortunately, I can't leave you until we finish our mission."

     Sol wanted to say something, but she was sure her mouth would betray her, so she said nothing. Magna tossed a fewn more sticks into the fire before sitting back.

     "Why do you hate men anyway? It's not as if we choose our genders before we're born, so it's not fair to hate us for something we can't control, ya know?"

     Sol wrapped the blanket closer to her. "I...I've never had a single positive experience with any man. When I was little, all the men in my village boasted about everything with nothing to back it up. The boys my age were the same. They treated me like a delicate flower that needed to be protected. When the time came for them to protect my village, they ran away like cowards. I stood my ground and fought, but the attackers overpowered me. Luckily, the Blue Rose Knights showed up in time and Captain Charlotte saved me. Ever since then, all the men I've met or worked with have been the same sad, disappointing losers."

     So that's why she's so loyal to her captain and her squad. I'd be the same way if I was in her shoes. "Well, that really sucks. I'm gonna be honest, I was kinda the same way for a portion of my youth, but a great old man whipped me into shape to become the man I am today."

     "Old man?" Sol echoed.

     Magna nodded. "Yeah. There's a neighboring village which I used to invade all the time. But each time, the chief of the village gave me a lesson I'd never forget. Unfortunately, I was a little punk that ignored the lessons and did the same stupid things over again. But I learned and grew into a better person."

     "You're not like that anymore..."

     Magna removed his sunglasses and glanced up to the sky. Sol was immediately drawn in to his eyes. "I get that you don't like guys like you described, but not all guys are like that. I could give you my squad as an example. My best bud Luck, why he's a battle freak that thinks about nothing else other than fighting. Gauche, he's just creepily obsessed with his sister. He's recently started to warm up to the rest of us. Gordon, he's real quiet and creepy, but he's a real sweet guy that wants the best for everyone. Captain Yami is a manly as they come. He doesn't care about how strong or weak you are, or who you are or where you came from. If you can grow stronger, you're cool in Yami's eyes. And little Asta, or as I like to call him, Rasta. He the manliest of all of us. He fights to protect people without a single thought about himself. I may call myself a man, but lil' Rasta's the real man here. What I'm trying to say is not all guys are bad. As the old saying goes, "Don't judge a book by its cover." Sure, there's always guys out there who are jackasses, but if you get to know us, you'll discover that we're not all that bad."

     Magna drew in a deep breath after his little speech. He was right. All Sol had done her whole life was judge men based on how she had experienced them throughout her earlier years. If she could get to know guys, maybe she might find one who's not so bad. Sol ended that train of thought as she glanced over at Magna. He's a short punk with glasses, but he's not so bad. I guess becoming friends with him isn't the worst thing in the world.

[goose-books]

goose-books productions: a 2020 review

view the image in higher quality here! (open the image in a new tab to zoom in.) thank you to my dearest @yvesdot for the template

transcripts and month-by-month details under the cut! for reference, you can find my projects here :-) overall, new and old followers, thank you for another good year over here! [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your h

january

i spent late 2019-early 2020 working on 2019’s nano project, quark, aka the speculative fiction thing about new york city and prophets and dissections of the chosen one trope and gay people. quark is my second-oldest project (five years!), but it’s also probably the most ambitious, so it’s been... difficult to wrangle into place, and i didn’t end up finishing a first draft. oh, well.

enjoy a snippet that is devastatingly emblematic of everything about quark. the tone. the homoerotic tension. the ensemble cast all talking over each other. the fact that caelum has spent pretty much this entire scene crying. fun autopsy report meeting.

Marble stares at the notebook in Shade’s hands. Or maybe he’s staring at Shade’s hands. Dawn feels a little voyeuristic, so she does what she does and says a dumb and unrelated thing: “Augustus, I think this pizza-on-the-floor thing is hurting my ass.”

Augustus flutters his hands. “Sometimes nonconformity is painful.”

“At least we’re originals,” Caelum mumbles into his sleeve.

“Exactly,” Augustus says.

“True originality doesn’t exist,” Marble says.

“Oh,” Shade deadpans, “it’s going to be a fun autopsy report meeting.”

It isn’t.

february

in january i stressed myself out trying to make the plot of quark work. so in february, i decided to take some time and write something Entirely For Fun. like, entirely for fun, no rules. and. my god. how do i explain the project i started calling “third eye for the bad guy.”

it was an unholy mashup of many of my past hyperfixations, including the gone series, a tale of two cities, warrior cats, and the left hand of darkness. one of the characters was a canon scalie and one was a canon fictionkinnie. it centered around a polycule of wannabe-evil-overlord high schoolers. i only wrote like three chapters but i was lost in the sauce for all of february and then i just… like… wiped it from my mind and moved on? somehow??? one character was a werewolf and that literally wasn’t relevant at ALL

I.

Someone was going to die on these steps.

This had been Ivy Lee Palomo’s thought last year during the all-school photo, and it rose in her mind again now. The one hundred marble stairs leading up to the great double doors of Saint Constantine Academy were the school’s pride and glory, steep as the mountain, sharp as the blade under Ivy Lee’s skirt. With the cutting wind and snow glazing the stone more often than not, with the freshmen wild and wired on their first day of their first year, it was really only a matter of time before someone slipped and cracked their fucking head open.

It wasn’t going to be her. Not when she had Doc Martens and reflexes like an electric coil. Still. Ivy Lee didn’t want to watch someone die. She didn’t get along with dead people.

march

in march, i got back to the project i’d started in 2019 - AMT, my podcast! it’s a shakespeare retelling set in a modern high school; this excerpt is funnier and also more unnerving in context. (double, double, toil and trouble...)

INDRAJIT: What the hell are you doing?

[PAUSE.]

DEE (like she’s lying): Making pasta.

[ALL THREE OF THEM LAUGH.]

NONA: That’s right.

MORA: We have the keys to Mab’s office.

DEE: We’re using her stove.

NONA: To make pasta.

DEE: Do you want some?

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

INDRAJIT: No.

april

and darkling rears its head! all of my other projects have existed for at least a year; darkling (specfic king lear retelling) is... special. it was conceived in april, when i started hyperfixating on king lear, and i still managed to write an absolutely ridiculous amount of content for it. it was like the power of hyperfixation let me speedrun the entire process. which. okay.

iv: control

They say Cressida Stayer was nine years old when she turned her hair to gold. They laid her down in bed blonde, and the next morning, the waves cascading down her shoulders were solid metal, glinting harshly in the sunlight, weighing her down, creating that odd head-cocked expression she still wears now. Nine years old. Two or three years before most people develop enough magic skills to dye a single curl. Much less transfigure their hair into precious metal.

People also say Leovald Stayer’s immediate reaction was to hack it off her head and melt it down for cash. But generally they say that part a lot quieter.

may

in may i wrote AMT episode 15, by which i mean that in may there was a day when i sat in my room with the door shut for literally five straight hours listening to the same three songs on loop as i wrote the climax of one of the plotlines of AMT. so. that sure was… a day.

ISAAC: Do you want… do you want someone to drive you home? Hawk, you’re worrying me -

HAWK (almost cutting him off): Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m here to help. With your… thing.

ISAAC (quietly): I… don’t know if you should be here to see this.

HAWK (a little louder, more audibly upset): Well - what else am I going to do? Go home and - and have my dads talk at me and - and not be able to answer them? Because I can’t? I can’t. I don’t know what to say.

[PAUSE.]

ISAAC (V.O.): I wonder if this is what he feels like, on the outside, looking in at me. Watching someone else hurting. Helpless and afraid.

He still fits perfectly in my arms. I rest my chin on top of his head and pull him close to me, like I can stop him from shaking, like I can stop anything from happening the way I know it’s going to. I bury my face in his hair. He smells so familiar. He’s so warm.

God, Hawk. I love you so much. You shouldn’t be here to see this. Something bad’s gonna happen. And you’re not the kind of person who belongs in a tragedy.

june

okay, honestly, i should talk about “night shift” here, because in june i wrote a whole short story in one night (and then foamed over it for a week), but i am still in the process of submitting it places! so i am terrified to put even a sentence of it online. instead: the other thing i did this month was to finish AMT! (sixteen episodes and somewhere around 175k, iirc, but don’t quote me.) these lines are the opener to the final episode!

RAHMA (V.O.): The combined series of sophomore year disasters stretched through November. It’s June now. It’s taken me… a long time to get this all put together. I was going to make a vlog about it, initially - well, calling it a vlog sounds frivolous. I was going to make a video recounting the whole deal. All of it. From when I kissed Avery Fairchilde to the very last night. I scripted dozens of drafts; I put together dozens of bullet-pointed lists of what to cover… and it was never enough. Because Avery and I weren’t the only ones involved. Even if I was only focused on the two of us, it wasn’t just the two of us.

So… I gathered up everyone else. The whole town of Ellisburg is still talking about the week the town went crazy, but it wasn’t just a week. There was a lot leading up to it. And I think if anyone’s going to talk about it, it should be us. The people who lived it. So here we are. The most ambitious Rahma Ashiq production of all time - at least so far.

july

every july i pause whatever else i’m doing to celebrate the birthday of aurum & argentate, twins from my oldest and dearest WIP The Mortal Realm. july fifteenth! mark your calendars. they’re princes, though argentate would really rather not be; you can read the full birthday piece here.

“Do you… plan to get dressed?” A bit of the usual humor crept back into Aurum’s voice. “Although if you want to speak to the kingdom in your underthings, by all means, you have my full support.”

Argentate scrubbed at his face. He wasn’t dressed, no, but the usual malaise hung over his shoulders like a cloak. Guilt. Nerves. The sick sense that he hadn’t done something he was supposed to. The numb knowledge that it was too late to change a thing.

“I meant to,” he said. “Get dressed, I mean.” The rest went unsaid: I have just been sitting here. On the floor. Thinking about how I should get dressed.

“Ah,” Aurum said, extending his hand. “The traditional route. We’ll save the nude speeches for the future, then.”

Argentate took his hand, stumbling a little as Aurum pulled him to his feet. He steadied himself on the closest wall, taking a few deep breaths. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. His hands found their way to the cross, again and again.

august

this summer, i wrote an entire draft of Valentine Van Velt is Dead, AKA “holden caulfield goes to exposure therapy,” AKA the weird little personal side project i keep tucked into my coat. interesting features include second-person narration from a narrator who doesn’t like the main character all that much. so reading it is kind of like the book wants to kill you? with an added dash of general melancholy.

You used to live here. That’s the thing that’s got you feeling so off.

You didn’t recognize your old house. I mean, you kind of did. You remembered that the road was on a hill. That hill felt like a goddamn forty-five degree angle when you were a kid. But if you didn’t have the address written down you wouldn’t have known it at all. It would have been just another little suburban house in rows of perfect little towns that make your skin crawl.

So now you’re in this diner looking out a gross smudgy window trying to block out the elevator music pumping through the speakers in the ceiling or whatever. I don’t know how speakers work. You’re trying to tune that shit out. The waitress comes over and catches you by surprise so you just point at some coffee thing on the menu so she’ll go away. For the record: you don’t drink coffee.

There’s a public library across the street. A little square building. You probably used to go there. The lady comes over and thunks your coffee on the table and gives you a kind of look, like she wants to know what in the goddamn hell you think you’re doing here and not at school. You sip your coffee and look out the window until she leaves you alone again. And then you spit it back into the cup because, for the record: you don’t drink coffee.

september

i spent september and october prepping for nano, so i was mostly working on darkling...

It’s late spring; still, at this time of night, on a rooftop, there’s a chill. The wind plays with the end of Ruby’s coat, with her hair. She hands the bottle off to Jasper, stares up at the fogged-over sky, wishes she were lying in Dany’s arms in Dany’s bed instead of here. Wishes, even, that Dany were the one on the roof with her. At least then they’d be cold together. At least then she wouldn’t have to imagine what Dany would say; she could just listen, and watch Dany’s flashing smile and her flinty eyes.

(She cuddles. This is another thing Dany does that Dany probably shouldn’t do, based on everything about Dany; it’s not like rattlesnakes cuddle. But Dany likes to nuzzle into Ruby’s side and rest her head on Ruby’s collarbones and toss an arm over Ruby’s chest, and hold her down like she’s worried she’ll float off somewhere. She’ll card her fingers through Ruby’s hair and hum. Even though they could get caught, even though she’s probably got better places to be - Dany cuddles.)

Ruby imagines it, momentarily, both of them on the roof together, sprawled like horrifyingly beautiful gargoyles, sharp teeth flashing, blood running hot. Up here - it’d be like they ruled the world.

But whatever. Jasper’s fun. He’s hot. He’s got a sharp tongue in a lot more ways than one. And she likes when he lets the mask down. She likes seeing the soft bits underneath. She wants to sink her teeth and nails into them so hard she draws blood. Masks don’t bleed. Ruby would know; that’s why she is what she is.

october

...though i was also in creative writing class in school, and thus ended up writing a bunch of poems of varying quality (my teacher had a real thing for poetry) and also one darklingverse short story where rory and cressida hold hands! which you can find here.

Lorelai Rory Flowers is afraid of thunder.

This is a bit of an embarrassing thing to admit, as they’re seventeen (“at least seventeen,” they like to tell people, “maybe two hundred, who’s to say?”) and generally wise beyond their years, or whatever it is that adults say about kids with too much psychological baggage. Being afraid of thunder is not a very wise-beyond-one’s-years trait. And yet the state of affairs remains: loud noises make Rory want to melt into the earth. Back when they still went to school, even the fire alarm sent them scuttling under their desk to hide.

Right now, in the elevator, all they can do is shrink into their sweater.

They haven’t let go of Cressida’s hand yet.

november

and then november of course was nano which was an adventure all the way through. (opening tumblr on the fifth day of nano to find out about d*stiel... was something.)

“Apologize to me. Or get out of my house.”

Gracen’s voice is very, very low. For a moment she thinks he hasn’t heard her at all. Then he spins, eyes blazing. “What did you say?”

Gracen watches her own chest heave. She pushes herself up off the desk, stands with the effort of pushing a mountain off of her back. Leovald is six-foot-four. Gracen is six-foot-two. In her heels, in the heels she must wear to be a professional woman, to be a lady - they are the same height.

Gracen wipes her nose. When she lowers her arm, there’s a streak of blood across the back of her hand. Fire shivers in her chest; her heart rings in her ears; her voice could cut steel.

“I said,” she says, low, slow, volume building, “apologize to me. Or get. Out. Of. My. House.”

december

and finally, the poem i posted this year! it’s called the beast sonnet, and you can find it in its own post over here (with commentary! how sexy.)

i kill the beast and drop down to my knees, my blade stained dark with blood of stygian hue, and for a moment these scarred hands shake free, and hold a world unfurled for me anew. but once-mourned victims, victors, vices find; fear winged me; now its absence strips me bare. my sword now dulls, my legs, my voice, my mind; the beast, pried from my throat, leaves no skill there. and still i hear it laugh, O DEVOTEE— O CHILD DEAR, NO GLORY WITHOUT ME.

i was quite productive this year; i have to think it was because i was avoiding things... the peak of my productivity happened over the summer and in november, AKA, college app hell. (almost done with the last applications! pray for me.)

a general breakdown of what occupied me this year:

(no, i don’t know why the “various other things” category ended up so large... i blame all the one-off projects i wrote a single page for, and also whatever the fuck happened in february. yes, i do know why it looks hideous; it’s because each of my WIPs has a theme color

thank you once again for spending some time at goose-books dot gov this year! what to expect for next year: well, i very much hope i can produce AMT... also hoping to get darkling ready for beta readers, so keep your eyes out!

[danadeservesadrink]

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 6

Are You Free On Thursday?

Read on AO3 here 

Tagging @today-in-fic @baronessblixen and @suitablyaggrieved

“Dana Scully speaking”

“Are you free on Thursday?”

“What’s Thursday?”

“Well Thursday really could be anything you want, but I really could use another tour of the town, and I believe I still owe you a trip to your favorite restaurant…”

“Oh, so Thursday’s a date?”

“Yes”

“I really, really would love to, but my car is in the shop and I don't want to have to make my mother drive me all the way to the city, could we do Saturday?”

“I can pick you up.”

“Mulder that's silly, you’d be driving all the way here and back and I have to be in the city the day after anyway, early too-”

“You could sleep with me?”

“Mulder!”

“Not like that. I can take the couch and you can have the bed. It’ll be like a sleepover. You can stay the whole weekend”

“I have a hotel room already. I just can’t check in until Friday night.”

“Oh.”

“But I suppose a ride to the city and comfortable accommodations are too good of an offer to refuse”

“Don’t forget the free dinner”

“How could I? You’ll have to meet my mother when you pick me up. Think you can handle that?”

“ Scully , meeting the parents already? Should we be picking out china patterns?”

“Don’t make that joke in front of her, she’ll take it seriously”

“Trust me, I’ll be ok. I met your sister and that went well”

“On the taxi ride back from the bar she discussed repeatedly the ways she would have taken you down had you not been so charming”

“See! She likes me.”

“Mhmm”

“I promise. Best behavior, cross my heart”

“Alright Mulder. I’ll see you Thursday”

“See you Thursday”

Mulder was nervous. Probably more nervous than their first date. How was a second date more nerve-wracking than a first?

Because you’ve finally convinced her that you're a half decent man worth spending her time on, and if you mess this up that will most certainly be the nail in the coffin for any form of a relationship with the incredible Dr. Dana Scully. And also you’re meeting her mother.

The entire drive up he had been focusing much less on the road and mostly on the thought of the visit that was to come. It felt like he’d been in the car for eons when he finally pulled up the gravel driveway to the Scully household.

The house looked like a home. It looked lived in, with the various shingles tilting down at an angle and toys strewn about the front yard. There was a garden containing marigolds and tulips, but wildflowers sprouted up between neatly planted rows. A small red tricycle was left abandoned next to the spot where he had parked. He left his car and walked up the front porch, observing dolls, shovels, and magnifying glasses left on the staircase like an archaeologist. If he wasn’t mistaken there was a plastic pizza pie slice wrapped in the tendrils of a morning glory plant. He found himself thinking about how Little Shop of Horrors would have been a lot funnier if Audrey II preferred pepperoni as he rang the doorbell.

He was hoping Scully would answer but instead he was greeted by the one Scully he hadn’t met yet.

She was just as short as the rest of them, but instead of the red hair usually accompanying the Scully women, her hair was a curly brown, tucked behind her ears as she watched the child pressed to her chest fuss. When she saw him she beamed and he recognized the Scully smile.

“Dana, your friend is here!” She shouted back over her shoulder, and then turned back to Mulder. He grinned back sheepishly as he extended a hand. She shifted the child on her hip and shook it warmly.

“Fox Mulder” he didn’t know why he sounded so formal, but she chuckled anyway and it reminded him of Scully.

“Maggie Scully, dear. Come in, make yourself at home.” He walked into the house, hands in his pockets and took in the warm chaos of the Scully household. It looked just like the outside but more clustered. Toys littered the floor and he found himself watching his step as he navigated the room. The living room had a large fireplace surrounded by bricks, the mantle decorated in family pictures and wooden statues. Maggie bustled about, picking up a stuffed duck off the couch and handing it to the baby, who immediately cooed and wrapped its arms around it.

“Sit” she insisted, pointing at the leather couch, so Mulder sat and sunk deep into the comforting cushions. “Did you want anything to drink dear?”

“No thank you” he replied, and watched as she headed into the kitchen, still taking in every element of the Scully household. It was in stark contrast to the household he grew up in. His childhood halls had been decked with wax fruit baskets and wine cabinets, shelves stacked high with glass teacups that he was not permitted to run near, the tinkling of their dainty handles alerting his mother to any misbehaving. His mind wandered to thoughts of a little red-headed Scully running through these halls.

Maggie returned sans baby and began picking up more toys that he hadn't even seen under the coffee table.

“Dana’s upstairs getting ready, I’m sure she’ll be down in a minute. So tell me Fox, what do you do?” He chuckled to himself hearing his name spoken aloud. When it came from the mouth of a Scully, the typical disdain he felt for it was absent. Perhaps it was because of the genuine warmth with which she said it, warmth he was unfamiliar with coming from even his own mother, that he didn't correct her. Instead he simply grinned back and answered.

“I work at the FBI.” She raised an eyebrow and he could tell she was holding back a comment. He hadn’t expected to make it through the day completely unscathed. He felt more like he was picking up his date for prom now.  

“I see. I assume you went to a good school then.”

“I went to Oxford. Got my Ph.D there as well.” That seemed to impress her more than it had impressed her daughter. Delighted at the change of subject, Maggie began to ramble.

“Oh England is just beautiful isn’t it. I’ve always wanted to go, but my husband never had the chance to take me before her passed, and now with Emily…”

“Emily?” Mulder was confused, forgetting momentarily about the infant in the next room.

“Oh did Dana not tell you?” Maggie looked genuinely concerned as she spoke, glancing over his shoulder at the staircase Scully would presumably be coming down. He was quick to correct.

“No no, I’m aware, I just… I never knew her name” He stared down at his shoes, feeling remarkably embarrassed that he had never asked. Maggie considered him for a moment then rose from her seat.

“Well I suppose you need a proper introduction then. Come on.” She walked back into the kitchen and Mulder followed her, feeling more like he was meeting a new boss than a baby. The disorder of the house seemed to be contained in the living room, the kitchen seeming far more clean. He noticed pencil scratches on the side of the doorway, making a mental note to check if Scully had always been so little.

Inside the kitchen was one of those toys that looked like a space shuttle control board for children, with a little girl bouncing inside, pressing buttons and spinning plastic rings to launch what he imagined were very adorable space ships. The girl upon spotting Maggie, babbled and raised both arms, bouncing up and down causing the toy to rattle and shake.

“Up, up!” she bossed, and Mulder could see the resemblance. Maggie bent and hoisted the little girl out of her play station, and walked over to Mulder.

“Emily, sweetheart, this is Fox. Can you say hi to Fox?” Mulder offered up a little wave, stooping forward to be on eye level with her. Emily decidedly did not like him, and buried her face in her grandmother’s neck. He chuckled and Maggie rolled her eyes at the little one. She turned to aim the baby’s face at Mulder, and her eyes briefly locked onto his, bright blue and quizzical. He waved again and smiled. She didn’t break the gaze, although she still clung to Maggie like a life preserver, so he took that as a victory.

“She doesn’t like strangers” came a voice from the doorway, and Mulder turned to see Scully leaning on the frame, her height almost matching up to one of the scratchy little marks. He beamed when he saw her and she stared bashfully at the ground, attempting to contain the smile on her lips. Maggie noticed and smiled herself.

“Well it's never too early to learn stranger danger” he crossed the kitchen to stand close to her while Maggie placed Emily back into her seat. “You look beautiful”

She smiled and looked back up at him. She was only in a sweater and jeans but she still took his breath away.

“Do they teach stranger danger in the FBI academy Mulder?” she quipped, and he was filled with the urge to bend down and kiss the smirk off her lips. She saw it in his eyes and glanced over at her mother in silent warning.

“You two should get going, it's a beautiful day out and Dana hasn’t been outside all week.” Scully looked embarrassed as Mulder chuckled and mouthed “All week?” at her. She swatted him away but he saw her grin.

“I’ll get her some sunshine, don’t you worry. You ready to go Scully?” Scully nodded and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then followed Mulder back out of the house.  

He opened the door to his Ford for her and she thanked him.  They buzzed in impatient silence until Mulder had backed out of the driveway. He didn’t hit the bike on the way out.

“Your mother is nice” Scully smiled and Mulder was just so relieved the meeting had gone well.

“She can be a handful sometimes but she takes good care of us.”

He nodded, unfamiliar with what it felt like to be satisfied with a parent. He decided to try his luck.

“She’s a cute kid, Emily.”

Scully nodded, and he noticed she was staring out the window. Typically when he complimented a baby, the mother would begin to gush. One of the women in the bullpen had a kid and hasn’t shut up about it, plastering the kids face all over her cubicle, talking about how well he was eating his Cheerios and counting his toes. But Scully just stared silently. He noticed how Maggie seemed to be the only one to hold Emily. He wondered how long it took Scully after her return to pick her up. He thought about the cognitive psychology behind the mother-child connection and how its best formed in the early months after the birth.

With a thousand questions pinging around in his brain, he decided instead to turn up the radio. He turned back to the road just as she turned to look back at him, their eyes never quite connecting. He let his hand rest over the center console and he felt her pinky nudging his cautiously. Their hands did a little dance and with a flutter in his heart he gently interlaced their fingers, eyes still stuck on the road in front of him.

“So what do you have planned on this sunny Thursday afternoon?

-

It was a picnic. He had planned a picnic, basket and all and her heart was beating out of her chest with feelings for him. He had refused to tell her in the car so she was bursting with anticipation by the time they arrived in the city. He drove past all the restaurants, much to her confusion, and straight to a rolling park she had never had the chance to explore while she was living there. He popped the trunk and pulled a picnic blanket and basket you and her heart melted. She watched him carefully navigate the sandy path down to a lake, spread the blanket out with a flourish, and gestured like a magician at the ground for her to sit.

She obliged, and he followed suit shortly after.

“So I’m hesitant to ask, but please tell me you brought actual food in that basket. I’m starved”

“Scully you wound me. You think I would take you out on a lakeside picnic and fail to serve you any food?” He reached around her and brought the basket between them, coming close enough where she could smell his cologne.

“I didn’t know you cooked”

“I didn’t.” He opens the basket to reveal 4 takeout containers and a small bottle of white wine with glasses.

She was absolutely and completely charmed.  

In between bites of sweet and sour chicken she talked about her job, about how Missy is moving apartments, about everything and nothing all at once. She talks with such passion about her job, about the kids she treats. He has no doubt she has memorized each and every one of their names. She tells him how Joseph has been doing so well lately, and how she hopes he’ll be home by the end of the month. He can see the glow of pride in her cheeks when she tells him how she received a letter from one of her older patients telling her she just graduated high school. With every story and anecdote Mulder could see truly how much love Dana Scully had in her heart. He found himself desperate to hear her talk of him in the same fashion.

He studies her lips as they wrap around the final bite of rice. He hasn’t gotten the chance to kiss her again since their last meeting. That kiss was all passion, his lips fuzzy from the liquor, a kiss meant to show gratitude, to convey belief. Her receptiveness was everything he needed and more. His dreams were now grounded in the solidity of her lips on his, and when he woke from them he could still taste the honey sweet beer and salt.

He wanted to taste her again. He wanted to kiss her with spice and wine on her lips. He wanted to taste her with nothing but chap-stick and her sweet, intoxicating scent. He had never wanted anything more.

She noticed him watching her and raised an eyebrow. He leaned over and took the wine glass out of her hand, placing it safely on top of the basket. She was about to question his actions but he leaned over on all fours so his hands bordered her hips and any complaints she had were sucked back in with a gasp. He smiled at her as she stared into his eyes and hoped with every fiber that she could somehow understand everything his eyes were saying.

He closed the gap and pressed his lips into hers, almost knocking her backwards, but she snaked her arms around his neck and clung to him. This kiss was about passion, but not the desperate, I need you to believe me , kind. This was the kind of passion shared between two souls who have been intertwined for millennium, like comets in orbits destined to crash into each other. In a park neither of them had never been to, under the sun and God and whoever else was watching he made a promise to her that he would never leave.

She understood. He knew because of the way her hand caressed his back, dipping under the collar of his shirt. He knew because of the way she arched into his chest, pulling him closer yet never breaking their kiss. He knew because she whimpered in his ear when he moved on to sucking the skin around her pulse point. He knew because they threw all of the empty containers and dirtied glasses haphazardly into the basket, and she pulled him towards his own car and insisted he drive them home.

[buckybarnesbingo]

BBB Discord Party Titles Game

For this game, we took turns suggesting a title, and we all pitched our idea for what we might write for it.

Rebelmeg - lock and key

@dreaminglypeach - Bucky finds a fluffy pink diary with a padlock on it, and sets off on a mission to find out who it belongs to. A choose your own adventure, of course

@ladydarkphoenix-blog - Bucky finds a key hidden under a carpet in Avengers Mansion. He wants to find what it unlocks.

@rebelmeg - soulmates au. Bucky and his significant other, even if they haven't yet met, have an extremely synced-up bond in which they feel an echo of each other's experiences and feelings.

MagicaDraconia16 - It was just a mispronunciation, he was drunk and tired, okay, and he happened to say "key" instead of "'kay". Now the others won't stop calling him the Lock to [character]'s Key…

@lbibliophile-mcu - Mixing up the tone, I'm going to take this super angsty: When Hydra was turning Bucky into the Winter Soldier, they kept running into problems with his memories of Steve. Eventually they decided to use it instead. They show Bucky proof of Steve's death, and twist that to the point where forgetting who he is is less painful than remembering Steve. That's why Steve being alive was able to break through the conditioning: Steve is both the lock and key to Bucky's memories

@lbibliophile-mcu - "Nope. Not Moving. Can't make me."

@rebelmeg - Bucky has found a Nap Spot. it's very important. He's warm and comfortable. he's got a fuzzy blanket. He's nice and drowsy. And then... then Steve and Sam come in, all raring to go and wanting to take him on a run. Bucky is not having this nonsense.

MagicaDraconia16 - Bucky, taken by car to some place he doesn't want to visit, now he's sitting in the car, arms folded, sulking.

@lbibliophile-mcu - It's Avengers movie night. Bucky got to the lounge early, and is wrapped in a pile of blankets, sprawled across the couch. The others filter in and take their seats. Finally Steve comes in and passes out the popcorn then tries to share Bucky's couch, but he refuses to move. So Steve stis on top of him. Bucky flails around a bit, and eventually manages to kick Steve out of the way enough that he can put his legs in Steve's lap, rather than under him

@rebelmeg - omg. alpine. alpine stole Bucky's favorite seat on the couch, and will not be moved. digging those claws in and growling and hissing and freaking out

@dreaminglypeach - Tiny Steve being petulant and refusing to stay out of trouble, and Bucky just picking him up and carrying him off like a sack of potatoes.

An angry, hitty sack of potatoes

@lbibliophile-mcu - different variation: Bucky sparing with probably Tony. It ends with Tony lying flat on the mat (I can't decide if face-down or on his back is funnier) refusing to move, while Bucky is pestering him to at least get up and stretch so he doesn't regret it the next day

@ladydarkphoenix-blog - Bucky should get out of bed but it's cold and he's so warm and comfortable is it really that big of an emergency that he needs to move?

@lbibliophile-mcu - That is a mood

@dreaminglypeach - Me every morning

@rebelmeg - "Bucky, we gotta go, people are in danger!"

Bucky, peering over the top of three quilts with a fluffy ear hat on his head: "let them perish."

@ladydarkphoenix-blog - Frost advisory, why must I go out in a frost advisory

@dreaminglypeach​ - “They got themselves into danger, they can get themselves back out again”

@ladydarkphoenix-blog - "Why are they out in the cold anyway?"

@rebelmeg - "what kind of a supervillain wreaks havoc during a frost advisory?" the lump under the blankets asks grumpily.

@ladydarkphoenix-blog - "Steve, you of all people should get why we don't hero in an effen frost advisory"

@rebelmeg​ - "Bucky, you're being ridiculous." 

*three pillows hit him in the face*

 "....before you leave, bring those back to me."

@lbibliophile-mcu​ - "Fine, I suppose you can be excused. But you gotta at least let [insert other Avenger significant other - Clint?] go. It's their actual job." "No. My warm snuggly." "Bucky..."

@rebelmeg​ - alpine meows under the covers contentedly

@ladydarkphoenix-blog​ - One more additional thought. Natasha comes in and drags everyone out being all menacing ans typical Nat

“Mystery Pizza” - @dreaminglypeach​

@rebelmeg​ - Bucky is.... 94% sure this is a prank. surely no food is supposed to be this alarming shade of blue. the thing is... it tastes amazing. like, best thing ever. best pizza he's ever had. it's the perfect sauce to cheese to crust ratio. He's not entirely sure what the purple things are, or why the cheese is neon yellow, but. oh well. He can just close his eyes.

MagicaDraconia16 - It's late, it's dark, Clint gets hungry and goes looking for leftovers. He finds a couple of slices of pizza that is delicious, but when he later asks whose it was and what flavour did they get (because he's never tasted that before), no-one knows anything about it.

@dreaminglypeach​ - “Clint… that wasn’t pizza.”

@lbibliophile-mcu - Ooh, insomnia/post-nightmare tradition. Show up in the kitchen in the middle of the night, pull out a pizza base, then proceed to pile a random selection on ingredients on top. Sometimes savoury, sometimes sweet (sometimes both). Sometimes ingredients are just dumped in the middle, sometimes they're finely chopped (almost minced) and evenly spread, sometimes they're carefully arranged in wedges by colour. Sometimes the results are inedible, sometimes they are surprisingly tasty. At any rate, but the time the pizza is assembled, cooked and eaten/disposed of, they usually feel much more relaxed. Multiple Avengers needing Mystery Midnight Pizzas can turn into either a cooperative or competitive event

“The Sunken Ship” - @themadhalewrites

@rebelmeg - Bucky has been a pirate captain for several years now, on the ship he confiscated from his old captors, the hydra crew. The rechristened sea wolf has a new mission now: undoing the work hydra did, with its crew of willing mates that follow Bucky wherever the compass leads them.

@lbibliophile-mcu​ - Someone is trying to get two of their friends to date. They'd be really cute together! They like the same things! They'd be perfect for each other! They keep trying to set them up on dates, and they're... sort of successful? The friends have an instant connection, and seem to have fun and enjoy each other's company. But there's a decided lack of kissing or anything else romantic going on. Eventually they find out that the friends had previously dated, and decided they were better as just close friends. They're decidedly miffed that they hadn't known about this before trying to set them up.

@themadhalewrites - The title made me think of someone comforting Bucky after binge watching a show and the two characters he was hoping got together get with other people.

@lbibliophile-mcu - It would be a good title for a mer-AU as well

@themadhalewrites - Or a treasure hunter au

Stay tuned for the Scavenger Hunt art we found that features Bucky wearing Halloween costumes!

[here4theheartbreak]

Bitter Revenge

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Hoseok x Jimin x Jin x Jungkook x Namjoon x Taehyung x Yoongi (ot7) Genre(s): fluff Rating: General Audiences

Written for @btspolyshipbingo​ Square Filled: Jungkook

Tags: fluff, prank wars, no sex, polyamory Summary: Jungkook’s pranks have gone too far. The others will go to any lengths to get their revenge. Word Count: ~3.1k

Jungkook raced through the hallway when he heard Jin swear at him. He could barely stifle his giggles. He knew the books that he’d braced precariously had fallen, likely right on his eldest boyfriend’s hands and arms. It probably hurt – but the scream Jin had let out was so worth it. He knew he’d be smacked a good one – and likely deserved it – that night.

He didn’t want to hurt his boyfriends. They were his best friends and his life. But if there was one thing Jungkook enjoyed most – it was pranks. He always had. And now he had six captive victims at his constant disposal. It made it better that at least half of them were skittish already, so pranks were ten times funnier.

As he snuck into his room, he could hear Jin still swearing, warning Namjoon that – boyfriend or not – he was going to murder Jungkook.

The following week was strangely quiet. Jungkook had no good ideas for pranks, but the members – even those he had gotten really good the week before, seemed unconcerned. He came home early one Friday evening from hanging out with some of his non-idol friends and found three of his six partners curled up on the couch, peeking out from under a blanket.

“What’s happening?”

“Scary movie,” Jimin said.

“It was Namjoon’s idea,” Jin said.

“Wanna join?” Namjoon asked, wiggling himself and the half-finished bowl of popcorn over to make space for Jungkook. Jungkook beamed and leapt onto the couch with them, snagging a bite of popcorn.

“How far in are you?”

“Just started this one, already finished one.”

“Awesome.” Jungkook wormed his way under Namjoon’s arm, resting his head on his chest as he watched the delightfully gory film play out on their television.

Afterwards, Jungkook wiggled out of the pile of bodies. “Wanna go to bed?”

“We’ll be in in a minute. Warm up the bed for us?” Jimin asked, offering a playful wink. Jungkook chuckled. “Admit it, you just don’t wanna walk in the dark to the bedroom.”

“Maybe not. But still.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and rose, heading into the bedroom. He scowled, spotting something above the bed. Reaching out, he flipped the lights on, but they didn’t seem to be working. He tried a few times before rubbing his eyes and widening them, trying to get them to adjust to the darkness faster.

When they did, he stepped forward, reaching out and touching the hanging thing. It felt like hair, oddly enough, but when he pulled his hand away it was tacky with a dark substance. He looked up at where the hair was coming from, and spotted it pinned in between some tiles of his ceiling. He scowled, then chuckled. He sniffed the substance on his hands: sweet.

“Guys!” He shouted, hurrying out to where the others were. The three were sitting on the couch, seemingly awaiting something.

“Could you give me the recipe for this fake blood? It’s super realistic!” Jungkook exclaimed.

Jimin and Jin’s shoulders both sagged and Namjoon frowned.

“You—That didn’t freak you out?”

“No? But it was a good prank. I bet if you did it to Hobi-hyung he’d wet his pants.”

He trotted toward the bathroom, still examining the blood looking substance on his hands. It had been a good idea. And the fact that his partners were pranking him back made the pranking that much more fun. Now it wasn’t just doing it for the joy of hearing their screams – he could see what they would come up with in response to his pranks. It was a dream come true for Jungkook.

As he washed his hands, he plotted the next prank he’d pull.

Despite being brimming with ideas, Jungkook decided to wait a while on his next prank. Though he loved teasing, he was curious if they were planning anything else. He knew he was hard to scare, so it would be fun to see if they could accomplish it.

It was the middle of the day and Jungkook was in the studio, working on redoing some lines for the new album whe he got the text from Namjoon.

‘Miss you Jungkook.’

Jungkook smiled sheepishly despite himself, waving off the questioning look he got from Adora. “Just the guys.”

“Oh, just that. You know everyone knows you guys are dating. You don’t need to do so much to hide it in the office.”

Jungkook shrugged one shoulder. “Easier that way, to keep it quiet for the fans, not accidentally slip.” He sent a response as he spoke, ‘Miss you too – Will you be home at a reasonable time tonight?’

‘I think so, This meeting shouldn’t run too long. When are you done at the studio?’

Jungkook glanced at the papers in front of him before answering. ‘No more than an hour or two.’

‘The guys are going out tonight – I’ll order dinner. Been a while since we spent a night together.’

Jungkook grinned despite himself, ignoring Adora’s huff of mock annoyance.

‘I’d like that. See you tonight.’

He set his phone aside and grabbed the music, clearing his throat to begin recording again.

Jungkook returned home – as promised – within an hour and a half. The dorm was dark and quiet, and he wondered if maybe Namjoon hadn’t made it home yet. He flipped on the living room light and gasped.

On the couch was a stuffed bear. It was at least six feet tall, with soft brown fur and a big tag that read ‘To JK’.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whispered, grinning. He rushed up to it, reaching out for it. As soon as he came within an arm’s length, the bear leapt up, screaming in an inhuman voice. Jungkook froze for a moment then began to laugh.

The bear, which had its paws raised menacingly, stopped screaming and dropped its arms.

“Aren’t you scared?” Came the muffled voice of Yoongi from inside.

Jungkook covered his mouth to stifle his giggles. “Yoongi-hyung?” He yelped.

The bear began to fidget and twist. He grabbed at his ears and pulled until Yoongi popped out from a slit in the bear’s back, some stray cotton in his hair. “Really? Not even a little?”

“You’re so cute!” Jungkook leapt at him, kissing him square on the mouth. He picked some of the fluff out of his hair. “Did you really think that was gonna be scary though?”

“A six-foot stuffed animal leaping at you should scare you, Jungkook.”

“Well… Or make me think someone was hiding inside it.”

Yoongi huffed, his mouth turning down into a pout. Jungkook smiled and kissed him again. “Don’t be mad. It was a good try. Please tell me I can keep the teddy.”

“Yeah, yeah, his stuffing is in my room in some bags. Help me get out of him and we’ll restuff and sew him shut.”

“You’re amazing.”

“Woulda been better if I’d scared you,” Yoongi grumped, letting Jungkook pull the bear off his body.

“Well, you can always try again later,” Jungkook said.

“Oh don’t worry, we will.”

Jungkook grinned at him. “I look forward to it.”

And he was. Though he implemented a particularly nasty prank involving a pile of plastic cockroaches in Hoseok and Jimin’s main bathroom, he was eager to see what they could possibly come up with that would scare him. As the weeks passed with nothing though, he wondered if maybe they’d given up.

One morning, Hoseok entered the kitchen, scowling as he toweled his hair dry.

“Why so grumpy?” Namjoon asked.

“Pipes are making weird noises. Really messed up my relaxing morning shower. When you shower, Jungkook – would you see if you hear the noise too?”

“Sure. I’m about to head in there anyway.”

Hoseok nodded, sitting down at the counter and grabbing some of the fruit laid out on the table as Jungkook rose and padded into the bathroom for his turn at the shower.

Jungkook stripped down and tossed his clothes into the hamper, stretching in front of the mirror. He turned on the water and waited a few moments for it to warm up before stepping in and dipping his head under the spray. The pipes seemed quiet for the moment, he noticed. He tilted his head back under the spray, letting the warm water run into his mouth. The bitter tang of copper and salt covered his tongue and he spat, stepping back and wiping the water from his eyes.

The spray was a deep red, splashing onto his body and the white tub in a grotesque splatter. The shower head itself seemed to be foaming pink, thick dribbles of red oozing from a few of the holes in the shower head.

Jungkook stumbled back and hopped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and scrubbing himself off. He slapped off the shower immediately, staring at the, well, literal blood bath. Scowling, he looked back up at the shower head and reached up. He gripped it firmly, grimacing at the sludge of slimy, wet whatever and the foamy mess. He unscrewed the shower head and pulled it down, running his finger through the congealed mess on the back of it. He could see remnants of some sort of plastic, around it, and then it clicked, he laughed hard, shaking his head. Pulling on his boxers, he rushed out to the kitchen, still holding the shower head. The other six were sitting still, seemingly waiting.

“This was a great prank, guys!” Jungkook called when he entered.

“Seriously?! No noise at all?” Taehyung huffed.

“I would have screamed if blood started raining on me in the shower,” Hoseok complained.

“You almost got me,” Jungkook admitted. “The taste and the goo – but the foam gave it away.”

Namjoon groaned. “I was hoping that wouldn’t be too noticeable.”

“It was great. Good job guys. You know I’m gonna get you all back twice as bad.” Jungkook laughed and rushed back into the bathroom as the others dropped their heads on the counter and table.

Despite Jungkook’s repeated pranks afterward, there was silence from the other six. It was almost disappointing. No big reactions, nothing more than swearing or shouting in the moment. No revenge so to speak, they didn’t even bring them up afterward. Days turned to weeks and then a few months with nothing from the others. Jungkook decided they’d just given up – he really was unprankable.

“Guys! You have to see this game I got!” Jungkook called when he rushed into the dorm during one of their weekends off. He kicked off his shoes and hurried into the kitchen, a little surprised to see five of the members sitting around the counter, looking sullenly at their cell phones.

“Uh… Guys?”

Namjoon looked up, his eyes glassy. “Oh Jungkook,” he whispered.

Jungkook smiled a little, confused. “Why do you all look like someone died? Where’s Hobi-hyung?”

Jimin made a small sound of distress and Jin flinched visibly.

“Guys – What’s going on?” Jungkook asked more firmly. Namjoon cleared his throat.

“There’s been… An accident.”

“Accident? Like what?”

“Hobi… He—Jungkook, I’m so sorry.”

Panic bubbled in Jungkook’s throat. “What happened, Namjoon-hyung? Where’s Hobi-hyung?” He asked again.

“They broke in,” Yoongi whispered. “I don’t think they expected anyone to be home. But Hobi…”

“He got in the way,” Taehyung whispered. “There was… So much blood.”

“Where is he?!” Jungkook screamed, his eyes brimming with tears. His vision began to grey out, panic choking him like a hand on his throat. The bag slipped from his grip.

“He’s in the hospital, Jungkook,” Jimin croaked, his eyes red rimmed from crying. “He’s in a coma and they—”

“Is he going to be okay? We need go see him! Now!” Jungkook grabbed Yoongi and tried to drag him off the stool. Yoongi pulled his arm free from Jungkook’s grip.

“He’s not okay!” He snapped, startling Jungkook. Jin and Taehyung both jumped when he shouted.

“He’s not doing good, they—They won’t let us go see him,” Namjoon whispered.

Jungkook shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. “No, this can’t be happening. Please, I—We can’t lose Hobi-hyung.”

The room was silent enough that one could hear a pin dropping. The only sounds were the occasional sniffle from Jimin and Jungkook’s staggered breathing.

“Please...” He finally whispered, his entire body feeling cold and numb.

“Jungkook... We have one question... It’s very important,” Namjoon said.

“What is it?”

Namjoon rose and wrapped his arms around Jungkook in a tight hug. He pressed a kiss to his ear. “You will never top this prank Jeon Jungkook. Stop pranking us. Do you understand?”

Jungkook pulled back, confusion blending with his sorrow. “What?”

Namjoon smirked and looked behind Jungkook’s head. He turned as well, his heart skipping a beat. Hoseok stood in the doorway, unhurt and certainly not comatose. His only visible injury was the bandage around his hand from Jungkook’s last prank.

“Hobi-hyung?” He rasped. He rushed up to him and touched his chest and arms, face and shoulders.

“You’re alive!” He stepped back and looked at the group. They all had varying levels of amusement written on their faces, and most had a bandage or scratch from one of Jungkook’s pranks. He glared and burst into tears, startling them.

“This wasn’t nice!” He growled, pushing past Hoseok and storming into his bedroom, leaving the others staring stunned after him.

A part of him understood why they did it, it the bigger emotion was hurt. Pranks were supposed to be fun and maybe a little painful, not telling him one of his lovers was dying.

He wiped his tears angrily, knocking a photo of the seven of them down. “Assholes,” he snapped to no one in particular.

They left Jungkook to wallow in his hurt anger only for about forty minutes before a soft knock sounded at his door.

“Go away!” He shouted.

“Jungkook, please,” Taehyung said. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re sorry,” Namjoon repeated.

“Please let us in,” Jimin finished.

Jungkook glared at his wall in silence, wondering if they’d go away. Another knock came instead.

“Please, Jungkookie, let us talk,” Hoseok pleaded.

Jungkook heaved a dramatic sigh. “I’m mad at you all!” He shouted.

The door creaked open anyway. “We know,” Yoongi said.

Jungkook looked over, a little surprised to see just how haggard they all suddenly looked. Jimin was holding a bowl of popcorn and Jin had cans of soda. Taehyung held chocolate and choco pies and Hoseok had ice cream and a pile of spoons. Yoongi held a bag of what looked like plastic bugs. Namjoon had a small stuffed bunny in his grip.

“What—“

“We’re sorry,” Jin said softly. “We come with gifts and... To talk and make you feel better.”

Jungkook glared, wiping at his face with the back of his hand. “That was so mean.”

“We know,” Namjoon said, entering the room. He crawled onto the bed, pushing the bunny into Jungkook’s arms. “I know. It was too far.”

“We were so mad about the pranks,” Jin said, stepping in as well, setting the sodas on the desk and crawling to Jungkook’s other side when he sat up, fiddling with the soft fur of the bunny’s ears. “But that was no excuse.”

“We kept trying to prank you, nothing was working,” Jimin said. He set the popcorn down, wiggling half onto Jungkook’s lap and wrapping his arms around his middle.

“So when we thought of this, it was perfect – the only way we could scare you and make you realize,” Taehyung said. He took Jungkook’s other leg.

“But we were shallow – We didn’t realize… We didn’t think about what it would do to you,” Hoseok said.

“You care so much for us – losing one of us would… Shatter you. We shouldn’t have pushed it so far,” Yoongi finished. He and Hoseok crawled onto the bed with Jungkook as well.

Jungkook was staring at the rabbit in his hands, his eyes still watery.

“None of this is making excuses or justifying what we did,” Namjoon clarified. “We were in the wrong here, and we know you’re mad. You have a right to be. We should have thought it through, and we didn’t. We hurt our Jungkookie. We just hope you can forgive us.”

Jungkook pouted a little bit. “You guys could have just talked to me, you know?”

“We know. It didn’t work before so we just kinda… Assumed.”

“We are so sorry, Jungkook,” Jimin whispered.

Jungkook gave a small, half smile. He stroked his fingers through Jimin’s hair. “Some of my pranks probably were a little too far too. I’m sorry I pushed you guys to this. I’ll lighten up on them, okay?”

“Okay. And we’ll talk to you if something is up,” Taehyung agreed, and the others nodded.

Jungkook smiled, leaning his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Where’s that ice cream?” He asked.

Jin reached over and grabbed it, passing it to Jungkook.

“Why do you have fake bugs, hyung?” Jungkook asked as he opened the top and dug the spoon in.

Yoongi set the bag on Jungkook’s lap. “We went too far with a prank, so I felt it was only right to say sorry with more prank ammunition.”

Jungkook laughed and nodded. “Deal. Thank you. All of you… That wasn’t funny, I was so scared… Losing even one of you is like a nightmare to me.”

“We know,” Jimin said softly. “We’re so sorry.”

“Wanna watch a movie?” Hoseok offered. “You can pick.”

“Even a scary one?” Jungkook asked, spooning some ice cream into his mouth. Hoseok rolled his eyes but nodded.

Jungkook wiggled his way out of the pile of his boyfriends and began to dig around on his desk for the remote.

“There is an awesome new release actually, I’ve been wanting to watch it but haven’t had time. Supposed to be the scariest movie this year.”

“Great,” Jin grumbled without humor. He winced when Taehyung elbowed him. “What? He knows what he’s doing, I can be honest.”

Jungkook grinned and leaped back onto the bed. The seven wiggled and shifted until they found semi comfortable spots on the small bed, piled onto one another. As the movie played, they passed the drinks and food back and forth with a practiced ease of living together for so long. Jungkook smiled a little at the group. He was mad – they had hit him where it hurt. But it did get the message across, and that mattered too. He didn’t want to hurt them, same as they didn’t want to hurt him. Their peace and happiness was what mattered.

Jungkook shifted his body carefully and tossed one of the fake bugs onto the pile of popcorn Jimin was holding near his face while he was entirely engrossed in the film. When he glanced down to shove the handful in his mouth, he spotted the bug and squeaked, throwing the popcorn down.

The group laughed hard and Jimin glared at Jungkook, who only grinned and leaned forward to place a kiss on his pouty mouth.

Peace and happiness really was key. That, and the occasional innocent prank.

[willow-salix]

Random bit of fun that popped into my head. Grandma Tracy + Selene + cooking sherry =

Selene checked the recipe again and nodded to Grandma. It couldn't be that hard could it, to be all domesticated and shit? She had many manly men that she had to cook for, not that she went in for all the "a woman's place is in the kitchen" stereotypes,  but she did think it was important that they came home to something better than their Grandmother's cooking attempts after a tough rescue, and this one looked like it would be a nightmare mission. 

She could cook most things, basic and homely she called it, having learnt baking from her Nan, although she did like to challenge herself now and then.

She had decided in her infinite wisdom that if she was capable of making simple dishes like lasagna, chilli's, soups, burgers, pizza's pancakes, breakfasts and the like, coupled with the fact that she was actually good at baking, she could manage to help Grandma in her mission. It shouldn't be that hard to make their boys some lovely fresh donuts, something they all loved.  Yep, that was a plan! 

Grandma Tracy had wandered back and forth while Selene was assembling the ingredients, flour, salt, yeast, eggs, milk and melted butter and insisted on helping, trying to add her own selections to the mix which Selene gently vetoed, hiding them in the microwave. It would be fine, with her overseeing the proceedings Grandma couldn't get into too much trouble, could she? 

Selene directed Grandma as they slowly added the wet ingredients into a big mixing bowl, one at a time until they made a relatively smooth mixture, then Grandma added that little by little to the flour, Selene mixing with her hands until they had a rough dough. 

She dribbled some oil onto the worktop, dumped out the bowl and began to knead the slop, gradually feeling it grow thicker and less gloopy, more springy. Damn this was hard work!

"Let me have a try, you youngsters don't know the meaning of hard work."

Selene stepped aside to let Grandma T take her turn, but within a minute the older lady was huffing as bad as Selene was. 

They tag teamed back and forth for a few minutes but her fingers were cramping and she was sure that she had inhaled so much flour she'd be sneezing bread rolls.  She went to wipe her forehead but her hands were so greasy with the oil she gave in. She didn't want to resort to cheating, but needs must. 

She whispered a little chant under her breath when Grandma made her excuses to go to the bathroom and watched as the dough kneaded itself, plumping up and down and flipping itself over as she washed her hands and settled down with a can of cherry coke. The dough flopped itself back into its bowl after a few more minutes and she covered it over and placed it on the windowsill to rise for an hour.  

And she promptly forgot about it, wandering off with Grandma to catch up on "The bold and the beautiful" a TV show that Grandma watched religiously and that had become Selene's guilty pleasure whenever she was on the island. 

Upon returning to the kitchen after learning that Chico was Marion's secret son and that Charlie's amnesia was fake, they found the bowl overflowing and the dough creeping its way towards the floor.

"Stupid magic kneading!" Selene dived at the dough, nudging Armstrong out for the way just as he tried to bat at it with his paw. "No! Bad cat. Leave it!" 

She cradled it in her arms like it was a baby, a big, messy, yeasty baby that was determined to get the fuck out of dodge. She balanced on one leg as she tried to hold it up with her knee, kneeing it like she was playing keepy uppy with a football. 

"Grandma, get a bowl! A big one!" She gave it a big push upwards as Grandma shoved a huge bowl under it, catching the evil, still growing blob. 

"What's wrong with it?" Grandma asked as she poked at it with her finger, diving back when it looked like it would consume her whole hand. 

"Nothings wrong with it, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Against her better judgement, and Selene wasn't known to be entirely sane at the best of times, she grabbed the biggest saucepan they had and filled it with oil, setting it on the stove to boil. Should only take a few minutes....  

She watched as the oil began to bubble and smoke,  knowing it was about as hot as it would get. Witches didn't like boiling oil, call her silly but that had always been something to avoid in the olden days, which was probably why she had taken the few minutes to kit herself out in a huge apron, Scott's spare bike helmet and a pair of Virgil's thick work gloves. Couldn't be too careful. 

She dug her hands into the dough, hitting it with her elbow when it looked like it might try to be the one to eat her before they cooked it. "No! Down! Bad dough!" 

She was sure it would be fine once it was cooked,  witches made everything a bit more lively, the boys could attest to that.

"Watch out Grandma, don't get too close." 

She scooped out a handful and rolled it into a ball then holding it at arm's length, dropped it in the oil like it was a hand grenade. Boom, the oil jumped up to meet her and she stepped back with a squeak of shock. Not good. Nope nope so much nope. Not doing that again. 

"Oh don't worry, it always does that when I cook too," Grandma shrugged as she crossed to the fridge to get herself a drink. "Keep going, it'll be fine."

After rolling another ball, which she caught before it rolled off the counter and across the floor yelling  'cry freedom', she sourced a pair of BBQ tongs to hold it with and dropped it carefully in the oil. 

"That seemed to work," Grandma encouraged. "Keep doing that."

Ball after ball followed and her roll, grab and drop operation was going so well she completely forgot that the oil was actually cooking the damn things. 

"Uh…little too brown maybe…" she fished them out and dumped them into a bowl lined with kitchen towel. She poked them, were they OK? 

"They'll be fine with some powdered sugar on them," Grandma proclaimed wisely, although Selene wasn't too sure. "Do the rest, that's nowhere near enough to feed my boys."

Grandma supervised as Selene slowly worked her way through the dough mass, which seemed to have lost its determination now she had effectively scooped half of it away, though it was still making a strange wheezing noise as it attempted to grow some more. She'd soon put a stop to that! She quickly rolled and tossed more balls into the oil, having perfected her drop and duck technique.  Paranoid that she'd burn the next lot she got them out earlier...Perhaps a little too early, as they stuck to her tongs as she slapped them into the bowl. 

"Damn it."

"Jelly will fix them, " Grandma nodded sagely, "Jelly fixes everything."

Selene threw the last of the balls, now looking slightly less ball like and more like lumps of dough that she was too fucked off with to fix, and began to search the cupboards for something to insert the jam inside the balls. 

She located a turkey baster that Parker had insisted they needed to cook a decent Christmas dinner, and that Alan had secretly been using to squirt the Gordon with. Selene had filled it with whisky that one time and used it to fire at Scott from opposite ends of the couch in an attempt to reach each others mouths. She grinned at the memory.

As if reading her mind- maybe she was a witch too- Grandma vanished and reappeared with half a bottle of cooking sherry. 

"Would you like a little taste? I find it helps me relax sometimes when I'm cooking, you're too tense."

Well, that might explain a few of Grandma's more adventurous dishes. 

Selene looked at the bottle, she could actually do with a little of that right now. She held out her coke can and Grandma poured a healthy splash into the remains of her coke.

"Don't tell John," Selene warned as she gulped down some of the drink for strength as she faced the fried dough balls she was supposed to fix. 

She grabbed a pot of smooth jam out of the cupboard and sucked some up into the baster -not that easy to do it turned out- and holding one of the cooked balls she stabbed it with the end of the rubber syringe. It went right through.  

"Shit!" 

She tried again, splitting another one. 

"Fuck!" 

"Language, Selene!" 

"Sorry, Grandma."

"Let me try," Sally managed to get the tip in one and squirted a generous amount into the donut. But didn't count on the force of her squeezing making the donut shoot off the end and fly across the room to smack Armie in the eye.

"Fuck!" 

"Grandma!" Selene was shocked, but had the terrible urge to giggle. 

Sorry," Grandma apologised, both to Selene and the cat, trying again.

                                    ***

The bowl was a jammy,  powdered sugar covered, slightly oily mess and Selene was on her third can of sherry and coke and honestly, she no longer really gave a shit. 

Who's stupid idea had this been? It was the thought that counted right? 

Grandma had given up over an hour ago and gone to bed, knowing the boys would be heading home soon and Selene desperately needed a shower. She had jam in her hair, sugar sticking to her hands and she'd lost the will to live. 

She plonked the bowl in the middle of the kitchen counter. 

"Sexy spaceman of mine," she texted, "sorry they look like shit…yeah, can't really explain what happened there…but I'll be naked in bed if that helps." She snapped a picture to go with it and called it good, promising to clean up in the morning. 

And she wound her way on slightly unsteady feet,  up the stairs and into the bathroom to shower off the remains of her one and only attempt to cook something you could buy easier,  promising herself a trip to Krispy Kreme in the very near future, and flopped on the bed wrapped in nothing but a towel. 

                                       ***

"John?" Gordon stared at the text that had popped up on all their comms less than 30 seconds ago. 

"I don't even know."

Their brother's long suffering, defeated tone just made the whole thing even funnier. 

"Think you had better get down here, bro," Virgil chuckled. "We'll be home in five."

"Yeah, that's probably wise," Scott added. 

Even EOS seemed to find the whole situation amusing, which in itself was a little bit worrying, as John rode the elevator down to the island. 

Alan and Gordon were staring at the bowl as if it might explode any minute. John spotted the empty sherry bottle in the sink and sighed. 

"Grandma got the sherry out." 

"That's not good," Scott agreed as he too entered the war zone, formerly known as the kitchen, his eyes taking in the precariously piled bowls, the flour that coated every surface, the oil patch that Alan almost slipped in and the grease splattered stove top, the pan of oil sitting abandoned. His bike helmet was on one of the stools and one of Virgil's gloves peeked out from the bottom bowl of the stack, though it was so covered in dough you could barely tell what it was. 

Virgil brought up the rear, his nose wrinkling at the slightly smokey, oily smell that hung in the air. 

"Dare you to eat one," Gordon nudged Alan. 

"Hell no! John should, it's his girlfriend that made them."

"Fiancée," John automatically corrected, poking gingerly at the contents of the bowl. "And no, I don't think so."

"Scott, you're the brave one, you like to take a risk now and then, you do it."

"Like the rescue wasn't risky enough? No way. Virg, you try, it's like modern art, appreciate it."

"Nope, I like my taste buds where they are, Gordo, you do it, it was your idea."

Gordon paled as he looked into the bowl. "All of us?" he asked hopefully. 

The boys exchanged glances and then one by one they all reached into the bowl, their competitive streak unable to resist, selecting the least offensive looking offerings. 

"On three?" Scott confirmed. "One…two…three!"

As one they all tossed their donuts into their mouths, chewing madly, their faces contorting into identical grimaces of horror and disgust. 

Alan raced to the trash can, opening his mouth to let the offending evil drop out of his mouth. 

"Urghh, it was raw inside," he shuddered. 

Gordon followed suit, spitting his out. "Mines burnt."

Virgil managed to swallow his. "Mine was all sugar which pretty much hid everything."

Scott had a dribble of jelly running down his chin to drip onto his uniform, his mouth hanging open as if he didn't dare close it again. Virgil handed him a paper towel and he grateful spat out the offensive food.

"My God, that was foul."

They all looked at John, who was still chewing his dough ball, now matter how much he worked it, it never got any smaller. In the end he too gave up and spat it into the trash. "It was like trying to eat a rubber ball."

Virgil tossed the remains into the trash to spare Kayo and Brains the same horror. "At least they tried."

Too tired to actually be bothered with real food, Scott handed round some bowls and Virgil grabbed a box of cereal and some milk.

They all ate quickly, eating in companionable silence, standing up, leaning against various cupboards and furniture, knowing if they sat down they would likely never get up again.

"Damn!" John moved suddenly, breaking the silence of the room, dumping his half eaten cereal in the sink.

"What's wrong?" Scott frowned, instantly worried.

"I just remembered the rest of her message," he was already running towards the stairs, "I've got a naked woman waiting for me."

Alan shuddered, gagging on his mouthful of cereal. "I did not need to know that."

[prism-rush]

King of Prism Road to Shiny Seven Stars 2 Main Story translation

Good Afternoon! The Steamy Hot Spring Tag Battle

Since this is the second event in the Road to SSS series, you may want to read the first one if you haven’t yet:

Road to SSS 1 Main Story

Translators Notes: You also may want to watch episode 39 of Rainbow Live if you haven’t yet. (Even if you’ve never seen Rainbow Live before. Just watch it anyway trust me ahah.) I LOVE this event. Nothing happens in it. Haha no that’s not true. This event actually sets up the plot for the entire Road to SSS series of events. But before and after that it’s just a bunch of connecting scenes of the boys being boys. And that amazing ending!! It’s classic and even funnier than I remembered it being. This event is the kind of filler I could only dream of being able to see in the anime someday. Oh, and rock/paper (without scissors) is a way of making teams. That wasn’t a typo ahah.

(One morning, at the Edel Rose dorm…)

Leo: *yawn* Huh… it’s not even 5 am yet…? 

(This keeps happening again and again lately. At first I was happy to think that maybe I’ve become a morning person.) 

But waking up before my alarm goes off every morning has been making me feel tired during the day… Ohh.. And since I haven’t been sleeping well it’s been drying out my skin. 

(Oh! Now that I think of it, I saw a special in a magazine about skin problems! It was called… Chronic Skin Trouble! Beware the Turning Point…) 

C-Could it be!? No, No… it can’t be… I’m sure… probably… maybe…. 

O-Okay! Since I’m up anyway, I think I’ll go for a walk.

(Outside)

Yukinojo: Oh…? It looks kind of sickly… 

But I suppose as its caregiver that’s my own fault…

Leo: Yuki-sama! Good morning. You’re up early.

Yukinojo: Leo. Good morning. You too.

Leo: I just woke up on my own for some reason. I haven’t been sleeping well lately…

Yukinojo: I see… Things have been hectic with the new school year. Maybe you built up some stress without realizing it?

Leo: Now that you mention it… I think you may be right, Yuki-sama. Are you tending to your bonsai tree?

Yukinojo: Yes. However, it’s not going too well. But I guess a bonsai can’t be built in a day…

Leo: ….? 

(I don’t really know what he’s getting at, but Yuki-sama sure seems unhappy.) 

Don’t worry! I’m sure Mr. Bonsai Tree will come to understand how much you care about him.

Yukinojo: Leo… Heheh, thank you.

Leo: N-No problem. It was nothing.

Minato: ~ ♪ Yup, almost time for harvest.

Leo: Minato-san! Good morning!

Minato: Saionji? Good morning. You’ve been waking up early recently.

Leo: Yeah, I have. For some reason I just can’t sleep well… *yawn*

Minato: If that’s the case then I’ll whip you up some black tea with freshly picked herbs! That will wake you right up.

Leo: Wow, this turned into my lucky morning! Thank you so much!

Minato: I’ll start making breakfast as soon as I’m done watering the garden.

Leo: Yay!

(Inside)

Kakeru: Hmmm… as usual the price of oil is high…. If the price of materials keeps rising it will drive up the price of commodities… Someone has got to do something before it’s too late….

Leo: (Wow…! Kakeru looks so serious when he’s reading the paper in the morning!)

Kakeru: Hm? What is it, Leo-kyun? If you keep staring at me with those pretty doe eyes of yours, you’re gonna make me blush ♪

Leo: Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to stare!

Kakeru: It’s no biggie. Would you like a glass, Leo-kyun? It’s veggie juice. They say a morning’s dose of vitamin C is good for your skin…

Leo: I’ll take it!

Kakeru: …Slow down there. Are you feeling a little sleepy? It looks like you’re starting to get bags under your eyes–

Leo: WAH! D… Don’t look…!

Taiga: …….

Kakeru: Hm? Was that…

Leo & Kakeru: Taiga-kun!? / The delinquent!

Kakeru: He’s always the one who sleeps in the latest. What’s he doing up so early? I smell something fishy….

Leo: And carrying such a big bag with him… He’s not just going out for a walk, is he….

Taiga: ….. *glances left and right*

*tip toe, tip toe*

Kakeru: Leo-kyun, what are you doing?

Leo: Ah! (I automatically hid myself like I was doing something sneaky!)

Taiga: ….Okay. I’m not forgetting anything am I?

(At around the same time, in the mountains somewhere)

Louis: Wow, look! All the green scenery is so beautiful!

Alexander: Yo. Louis Kisaragi. I’m gonna take a nap. So wake me up when we get there. Got it?

Louis: Hey, Alec-kun. What kind of a job do we have today again?

Alexander: Whaa? You forgot?

Louis: Eheh. Just kidding. I’m looking forward to the event today.

Alexander: ….. As usual I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours.

Staff: Louis-san, Alec-san, we’ve almost arrived!

Alexander: Zzz….

Louis: Alec-kun, time to wake up. We’re getting close.

Alexander: …O.. Oh yeah… Hm? That mountain….

Louis: …Is that steam rising up?

Staff: Yes! This area is famous for hot springs!

Louis: Hot springs….

(Meanwhile…)

Kouji: Are you two ready?

Kazuki: All set! Hiro, don’t forget anything.

Hiro: Wait a sec, Kazuki. Why are you only telling me that.

Kouji: Ahah. It’s a little exciting to think the three of us are actually going on a road trip.

Kazuki: Haha that’s right. And this time we’re headed to…

Hiro: Ohoho. Well let’s get on the road already. To that oh so familiar place… 

The Rainbow Hot Springs!

(Back at Edel Rose)

Taiga: (The waterfall where Kazuki-san did his training… If I go there, then maybe I too…) 

I don’t have much money on hand. But as long as I can stay on the bus for as long as possible I should be able to get there somehow. 

And I’ll make up the difference with walking. Determinated walking! 

Kazuki-san! You’ll see! Someday I’ll catch up to you.. and then… I’ll overcome you!!

Leo: Hmm hmm hmm….

Kakeru: Leo, what’s wrong? You keep pacing back and forth.

Leo: There’s gotta be something going on with Taiga-kun! I just know he’s hiding something!

Shin: Kakeru-san, Leo-kun, good morning! *yawn*…

Yu: *yaaawn* Is breakfast ready yet…?

Kakeru: Shh! Be quiet you two!

Shin & Yu: ???

Leo: Could it be that Taiga-kun… is running away from Edel Rose!?

Kakeru: Running away!?

Shin: WHAAAT!? Taiga-kun is running away!? Since when did that happen!?

Yu: *yaaaawn* ..... Who’s running away?

Leo: Anyway, we have to stop him!!

(Concerned with Taiga’s suspicious behavior, the group secretly followed him…)

Yukinojo: A bus terminal… It seems whatever he’s sought out to do, he won’t be sticking around here…

Shin: But it doesn’t look like he’s getting on a bus to Aomori…

Minato: So he’s not going back home then.

Leo: C-Could it be he doesn’t want to be around us anymore…?

Kakeru: No, I doubt that…

Yu: I’m hungryyyy.

Yukinojo: Oh. It looks like he’s getting on a bus for Hida.

Leo: After him! Quickly!!

*sneaky sneaking*

Yu: Hey. If we get on the same bus as him he’s bound to see us.

Shin: W-We have to think fast or we’re gonna miss it!

Yukinojo: Okay then. Let’s use these old newspapers!

Leo: Mask your face!

Kakeru: Whatever you say… This is starting to get kinda fun.

(A few minutes later)

Taiga: *snoring*

Minato: He fell right asleep as soon as he got on the bus. It must have been tough getting up so early for him.

Yu: ….. We’re practically right next to him. How is it he still hasn’t noticed….

Kakeru: Out delinquent has got his cat-like “anti-social shield” blocking out the world around him running at full capacity ♪

Yu: …..

Shin: B-But anyway, it’s a good thing we were able to get away with this without being noticed.

Leo: I wonder how far he’s really planning on going…

Minato: We’ve really been riding for a good while now…

Kakeru: It’s been maybe about five hours.

Yu: I’m starving you guys.

Shin: Where are we headed to? I’ve never seen this place before…

Taiga: *snore* *sn…* …Ah! (Oh crap! I’m gonna miss my stop!)

Leo: Oh, Taiga’s up! He woke up and it looks like he’s getting off the bus!

Shin: This is…

Leo: Rainbow Hot Springs….?

Yukinojo: Hot springs! How excellent!!

Leo: I guess Taiga’s just coming for a bath….?

Minato: Secretly in the mountains, by himself…?

Bus driver: Everyone off who’s getting off! Door closing…

Yu: Hey hey hey we have to get off the bus too!

Kakeru: Hold up!

Leo: W… Wait for us!

Yukinojo: Leo, stop pushing me–

Minato: Ah, Tachibana now you’re pushing me–

*THUMPTHUMPTHUMP*

Shin: AHH no we’re falli–!

Everyone: …Ouch….

Taiga: ….Oh?

Everyone: ……Oh.

Taiga: What are you guys doing here!?

Leo: Taiga-kun! How terrible of you to abandon us all without saying a word!!

Taiga: WHA!?

Minato: Kougami! If something is troubling you, just talk and we’ll listen!

Kakeru: And if you’re looking for hot springs, I could recommend a way better place than this dump!

Taiga: ….What are you guys even talking about….

Shin: Um… well… see we were all worried about you running away from home and…

Taiga: Huh?

Everyone: (Ah, he said it!)

Taiga: Um, guys. I have no particular reason to run away.

Kakeru: Called it!  

Yu: So it was all Leo’s misunderstanding?

Leo: B… But! Then what were you doing sneaking out so early in the morning?!

Taiga: Uh. About that…

Leo: About what?

Taiga: Well… the truth is… 

………..

Everyone: …….?

Kakeru: Oh ho! Taiga-kyun is turning red!

Minato: Just like a bright red apple!

Yukinojo: Do you have a fever?

*touch*

Leo: W-W-Woah! He’s burning up!

Shin: Ahhh! We need to call a doctor!

Taiga: LAY! OFF!!!

Yu: Look, he’s got plenty of energy. So what’s the deal? You must have some sort of reason for coming this far out into the mountains.

Taiga: Yeah. 

T…. This is the place where Kazuki did his training for the Prism King Cup….

Leo: Wow! So you heard about this place from Kazuki-san?

Taiga: …No, I just heard a rumor about it… So I decided I would try training here too.

Leo: So that’s it… Ahh! But you gave me such a fright! Sorry we all jumped to conclusions….

Taiga: It’s fine… Don’t sweat it.

Leo: But now we’ve all selfishly tagged along behind you and gotten in your way…

Kakeru: Leo-kyun, calm down. What Taiga really meant was “Thanks so much for worrying about me!” So no worries ♪

Taiga: ….Nobody asked you.

Yukinojo: But if you only had told us you were going to a hot spring, I could have brought my personal toiletries….

Kakeru: Yuki-chan, that’s what you’re upset about?

Minato: Well, well. Since we’re all here anyway, how about we all have a dip?

Yu: As long as we can get some food already!

(Inside)

Shin: Wow…! This is… 

A five star hotel?

Yu: It does say that. The sign does. …Just the sign.

Yukinojo: Five… star… hotel…

Minato: The walls have cracks…

Taiga: ……

Kakeru: Oh my. It seems “Five Star” is just the name….

Leo: Ahah… But it’s kind of a delightfully mysterious place, isn’t it. This is fun.

(Despite their many concerns and various questions, the boys put away their luggage and headed to the hot springs…)

Minato: Wow… So Kazuki-san did his training way out here, huh?

Kakeru: Ahah. Check out at the seven kappa statues. They’re really funny-looking!

???: Good afternoon, everyone!

Shin: Huh? That voice…. !? Hiro-san!!

Kazuki: Woah, how’d you end up all the way out here, Taiga? You sure came a long way!

Taiga: KAZUKI-SAN!!!

Kouji: Look time, no see everyone.

Minato: Kouji-san! You too?

Yu: Whaaa!? What are you guys doing here…

Hiro: We came in when we heard some familiar voices. Eheh. How’s the water?

Kakeru: To think we’d run into all three members of Over the Rainbow in a place like this…

Taiga: Kazuki-san, why are you all here?!

Kazuki: Um. Uh yeah, about that…

Taiga: About what…?

Kazuki: Well, um, the thing is… Kouji and Hiro said they just really really wanted to see the place where I did my training! Ahahah!

Shin: …….

Yukinojo: …….

Leo: …….

Minato: …….. ?

Yu: …….

Taiga: Something’s off….

Kakeru: (…They’re hiding something.)

Hiro: Oh come on now. Let’s not harp on the details and just enjoy the bath together! …Ahhh… this place is just like I remember it. It hasn’t changed a bit.

Kouji: But we sure have. Things weren’t quite so relaxing the last time we were here.

Hiro: Ahaha… those old times…

Kazuki: Yeah! And to think that the three of us would find ourselves back here again! And that we’d come all the way here by Kouji’s car!

Everyone: Car?!

Yu: What?! Since when did you have time to get your license?!

Kouji: The genius songwriter Kouji Mihama doesn’t need to take a driving test more than once. ♪

Yu: Hmph! I could get a license easy-peasy. I could get one right now if I wanted to.

Minato: Oh… I’m sorry. Could it be the three of you actually came here to spend some quality time alone….?

Hiro: Well, that was the plan. But a hot spring with our beloved underclassmen is even more fun!

Kouji: That’s right. There’s nothing like getting naked to bring everyone closer together!

Kazuki: We haven’t all gotten together like this since Shin and Taiga’s entrance ceremony. Let’s take this opportunity to have a good time together!

Everyone: All right!

(Later)

Minato: Phew… That hot spring sure hit the spot.

Leo: There’s rainbow face lotion! “Make your skin shine in seven colors!” What does that do… !?

*clink, clank, clink, clank*

Yukinojo: Oh…!

*clink, clank, clink, clank*

Taiga: ……

Kakeru: Chan-Yuki, that massage chair is sure making some ominous sounds…!

Yukinojo: Hm? Yeah. But it feels so good. I’ll let you use it next.

Kakeru: Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll pass ☆

Yu: *gulp, gulp* ….Ah! There’s nothin’ like milk after a hot bath!

Kazuki: You bet! Fresh, chilled milk from a glass bottle is the best! Taiga, you want some?

Taiga: Okay! *gulp, gulp*

Kazuki: Hey, slow down! If you chug it all in one go you’ll choke!

Shin: Ah, Yu! Hold on a sec, you have kind of a milk mustache going on….

Yu: S.. Stop it! I can take care of it myself!

Kouji/Hiro: *smiling like idiots*

Shin: There, I got it!

Yu: …..Hey. What are you guys looking at?

Hiro: Huh? Kouji did you see something?

Kouji: Nothing, nothing. How about you?

Yu: Grrrr…. I can’t stand you guys.

Kazuki: ….Oh, it’s almost time. Where’s the remote control… Ah, here it is.

*click*

Shin: …..A press conference?

Tanaka (on TV): Tanaka.

Shin: Oh! I remember that guy from the Prism King Cup….!

Hiro: Ah, the announcement is finally starting! His opening statement just now  was so gracious and dignified.

Shin: Huh? (What opening statement… was that it…? But I thought all he said was his name…?)

Tanaka: Tanaka!

Over the Rainbow: WHAT?!

Tanaka: Tanaka….!

Kazuki: A street style….

Tanaka: Tanaka.

Hiro: Duo tournament….

Tanaka: TA-NA-KA!

Kouji: Is about to be held!

Everyone: WHAAAAAAT?!

Shin: How can you tell?!

Hiro: Everyone here’s going to participate, right?

Kazuki: Picking who your duo partner will be is gonna be really important!

Kouji: I wonder who we’ll all end up with.

Everyone: H… Huh….

Taiga: (A street-style duo tournament….) U.. Um… Kazuki-san… who are you gonna partner with…?

Kazuki: Me? I… uh… *side glance*

Hiro: Heheh. This sounds fun.

Kazuki: ….I haven’t decided yet. There’s still a lot to consider before making that decision.

Taiga: …Oh… I see.

Shin: Hiro-san, you’ll partner with Kouji-san right?

Hiro: Me… No, not me. I’m the definitive idol. So street-style is, well… It’s important for me to keep up my image.

Yu: Hah! If you’re scared of the competition, just say so!

Hiro: ….!!

Shin: I wonder who I could partner with….

Taiga: Hpmh. Well, whoever I end up pairing with, I’ll be aiming to win.

Yu: Don’t forget about me! When I get under those big lights, you’ll all know… the power of Zeus!

Yukinojo: Street-style, huh… (This is a field I never thought my path would cross through. But this may be a good opportunity to break out of my shell.)

Kakeru: It looks like everyone’s rearing for a fight!

Minato: Oh yeah, what about you Kazuo?

Kakeru: ……. Well, it doesn’t really matter much to me. ♪ Oh! What about you, chan-Leo?

Leo: M-me?

I’d love to join. But I don’t think anyone would stand a chance at winning with a partner like me…

Kouji: There’s still a lot of time to think things over before the tournament.

Hiro: Yes indeed. It’s not like all of us are forced to participate.

Kazuki: …….

TV: And this concludes the announcement by President Tanaka. Next up is the evening news….

Kazuki: Well, since the announcement is over, shall we go?

Kouji: Ah, that’s right.

Taiga: Kazuki-san, go where…?

(Later)

Kazuki: Okay, we’re here!

Taiga: This is… the waterfall where Kazuki-san did his training…!

*POUR*

Taiga: …Yikes! Kazuki-san, you actually trained under this ferocious downpour!?

???: HUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Kouji: Hm? There’s someone there?

Shin: Alexander-kun!?

Kazuki: Ohhh! Look at him go!

Alexander: Wha? That voice… Pfft. Him again. How dare he just appear out of nowhere whenever he feels like it. Well, whatever. Right now I need to keep total concentration.

HUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

Yukinojo: That primitive roar could nearly part the waterfall…

Yu: What an amazing aura…

Kazuki: Alec will be in the duo tournament for sure… Now I’m really looking forward to it.

Leo: (As I thought… Something like that would probably be impossible for me…)

Taiga: Hmph. He’s got nothin’ on me. I’m not gonna lose to the likes of him!

Hiro: …..

Kakeru: Hiro-san?

Hiro: …Eheh. He’s really something else. That Alec.

Kouji: (Hiro…)

Kazuki: ……

*grumble*

Kakeru: Oh?

Minato: S-Sorry, that was me….

Kouji: Hehe. No need to apologize. That’s our signal it’s time for dinner, isn’t it?

Hiro: Indeed. I think it’s about time we headed back to the hotel.

(And so they returned to find a very colorful meal waiting for them…)

Minato: These are some ingredients I’ve never seen before. What’s this…?

Kouji: Apparently it’s local vegetable from the mountain. It turns a bright, yellow color during cooking.

Minato: Wow…! So that’s its natural color. And the taste… it’s a bit bitter, but it pairs well with the sweet sauce.

Kouji: You’re right! It would be great to try in a western-style dish with olive oil!

Minato: Wow…! And then you could add garlic and chili peppers to make something like aglio e olio…

Shin: Wow! It’s practically shining! I’ve never seen rainbow colored cooking before!

Yukinojo. Neither have I. So they call this “rainbow fish” I see.

Kakeru: Oooh! And this egg custard is delish!

Leo: And the welcome sweets were so good!

Taiga: ….. (Is this sashimi… even edible…?)

Kazuki: *chew chew* Just like I remembered! The food at this place is amazing!

Taiga: ………… *chomp*

 It… it IS!

Yu: Ack…. (Rainbow-colored steamed fish paste… !?) *slide*

Kouji: Oh? How odd. I thought I already ate the fish paste.

Yu: Hey, Kouji! If you don’t learn to clean your plate like me you’ll never grow big and strong!

Kouji: …..Oh, is that how it is. In that case I’ll let you have my serving too.

Kazuki: What great food! I’m stuffed! Oh yeah, this place has table tennis, right?

Hiro: You’re full of energy tonight. Okay then, I’ll take you on. Shall we have a tournament?

Kouji: What are you going to give me when I win?

Hiro: Oh what’s this? The genius songwriter Kouji Mihama thinks he’s already won.

Kouji: But you were thinking the same way weren’t you?

Kazuki: Ahaha. You guys never change. What about all of you? Will you join is too?

Taiga: I’m in!!

Leo: I… I’d like to join.

Yu: I’ve only just finished eating so I’ll hang out here to digest.

Hiro: I guess you just have no confidence in winning, then? If you’re scared of the competition you should just say so.

Yu: WHA……!

Hiro: Well, the appeal of playing table tennis in yukatas after a bath is better understood by adults, isn’t it? I guess you’re a little young…

Yu: Huh… !? Hmph. Well if you really insist on losing to me that badly, I’ll grant your wish. Just don’t cry about it later.

Hiro: Ehehe, you think you can beat me?

Kouji: Hiro, you’re such a kid.

Kazuki: Look who’s talking.

Minato: I’d like to spend a bit more time researching these recipes.

Kakeru: And I think I’d like to just relax after eating such a big meal. So I’ll see you guys later!

Yukinojo: *chew, chew*

Shin: *chew, chew*

Kouji: Shin and Yukinojo are still eating. I think we’ll be fine with six members for table tennis.

(And so the group relocated to the game room.)

Kazuki: …Hm? They only have one table for table tennis.

Hiro: What should we do? We could make a bracket and play one-on-one.

Kouji: But if we do that then a lot of us will be sitting around waiting… So how about we play 2 on 2 doubles, and the other two can referee?

Kazuki: I agree. Let’s do that.

Kouji: Okay, I think we’re ready then. I’ll explain the rules just in case… Usually you just lob the ball back and forth to each other. But hot springs table tennis is different…

Yu: …Oh? (What have I gotten myself into.)  

Kouji: At the perfect opening, when your very fiber of being screams “NOW!” you must seize the moment to return the ping-pong ball… The bond between you and your partner will be the one thing that decides your fate. 

THIS IS IT! THE SECRET RULE TO HOT SPRINGS TABLE TENNIS!

Kazuki: That was a “rule”?

Yu: In the end, we’re still just hitting the ball back and forth though aren’t we?

Hiro: I guess so. Well it’s not like this is an official tournament or anything. We might as well play along.

Kouji: Well then. I’ll be everyone’s cheerleader.

Yu: Uh, could you not.

Kazuki: Ah, well then, I think I’ll cheer along with Kouji. Okay, Taiga! Show ‘em what you got!

Taiga: Alright!!

Kouji: Let’s make teams with rock/paper. 3, 2, 1….

Kazuki: Oh ho. These teams sure are interesting…

Yu: Ugh. Whaaat. I’m stuck with Hiro…. ?

Hiro: I guess you’re probably not ready to defeat me anyway.

Yu: GRRRRRR…..

Leo: And I’m with you, Taiga-kun. Okay! Let’s do this!

Taiga: You’re goin’ down!

Kouji: Okay, let’s get started. Game on!

Yu: Take this! You bow to the name of Zeus!

Hiro: Ah! Yu, don’t take your eyes off the court!

Yu: I don’t need your help!

Leo: (Okay, next turn I’ll..)

Taiga: Ah!

Leo: Eek!

Yu: Hiro!

Hiro: I got this!

Taiga & Leo: …..!!

*roll*

Kouji: The Hiro/Yu Team are the winners!

Hiro: Thanks! It was all because of you, Yu! (…Yu might actually be a good partner for the duo tournament.)

Yu: Heheh! Yeah you better be grateful! (Being on a team with Hiro was a lot easier than I thought…?)

Kouji: …Heheh. It seems like the two of you may have discovered something new.

Kazuki: Taiga, Leo, don’t sweat it!

Taiga: …….

Leo: I’m really sorry, Taiga-kun. I…

Taiga: It’s not your fault.

(Meanwhile, the boys who chose to remain in the banquet room made an interesting discovery of their own…)

Shin: Hmm? Kakeru-san, what’s this thing?

Kakeru: Oh hoooh! I have had quite the experience with these ♪

Shin: Huh….!?

Kakeru: And this song lineup is giving me goosebumps!

Shin: Songs…? Could it be this is a karaoke machine?

Kakeru: YES! How nostalgic. This really is a hot springs hotel vacation.

Minato: Oh, oh. And here are the mics.

Kakeru: Thank you Minatocchi! Well, that settles it. We’re having a karaoke tournament!

Yukinojo: Karaoke tournament?

Kakeru: Yes yes. For this tournament the winner is whoever has the most fun! First up I think I’ll sing a duet with Yuki-chan! ♪ Shall I choose the song?

Yukinojo: Sure. I’ll leave it to you.

(And so began the impromptu karaoke tournament….)

Yukinojo: Yes, for your love~♪ I’d climb a distant mountain~♪

Kakeru: Yes, for your love~♪ I’d cross the deepest sea~♪

Kakeru & Yukinojo: Now… Fate will bind us… ♪

Shin: Wow… Yukinojo-san and Kakeru-san are really good at this!!

Minato: 100%! They got a perfect score!! Kazuo has a real knack for karaoke.

Kakeru: Ahaha. I spend a lot of time around older men.

Yukinojo: I have had similar experiences. I’ve been exposed to a lot of enka music.

Shin: I want to hear more!! Sing me your favorites!!

Yukinojo: Oh, really? In the case I’ll pick the next one.

Kakeru: Okay♪ We’ll keep on romancing the crowd.

Yukinojo & Kakeru: ~~~~♪

Minato: Their duet is really in sync. It really warms the heart… It’s almost like I can see the ol’ homeland floating before my eyes….

Shin: Minato-san?

Minato: Zzz….

Shin: ….He fell asleep sitting up. (Ah. I think I’ll take a bathroom break…)

(Shin leaves.)

Shin: What a nice night. I think I’ll go for a walk before I head back.

A duo tournament huh? I wonder who I should enter with.

“Shooting”? In a place like this?

Hm. The last time I tried shooting was…

???: Good evening.

Shin: Yeah it is such a nice eve–W-WOAH Louis?! What are you doing here?!

Louis: Hi. I had a Schwarz Rose job nearby.

Shin: Oh, I see! Did you come by yourself?

Louis: No. Well I am alone now, but.

Shin: I see….? (He had a Schwarz Rose job… I wonder if Alexander-kun came to do the same job?)

Louis: Shin, you look really good in your yukata.

Shin: Huh–really? Thank you! You look really nice too, Louis!

Louis: Ehehe. I’m so happy.

Shin: Oh yeah, Louis! Let’s try shooting together!

Louis: Huh?

Shin: I’m sure it will be super fun!!

Louis: ….Sure.

Hehe, I feel like I’m burning up.

Shin: Oh?! What’s wrong? Are you getting sick?!

Louis: The opposite. Having you here with me, I’ve never felt better. Thank you.

Shin: I don’t really know what you mean but…. You’re welcome?

Louis: Hehe. Well, will you teach me how to shoot?

Shin: Ah! Sure! Let’s go then! (I’m from Edel Rose and Louis is from Schwartz Rose.) 

(But… If only I could do a duo show with Louis, I think it would be really fun.)

(While everyone else was enjoying the hot spring hotel…)

Leo: …..*sigh* A street-style tournament huh… And a duo tournament… I can’t enter by myself… (In the table tennis match Taiga-kun and I weren’t in sync at all… and never mind that, it’s a street-style tournament. For someone lacking in manliness like me it would be impossible…) 

(But what does manliness even mean to me anyway–)

*POUR*

Leo: Huh? Where am I… 

(I was so lost in thought I just kept walking without paying attention to where I was going.)

…I ought to get back before I make everyone worry.

???: HUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!

Leo: That voice… Yamato-san? (He’s still here training!? Could it be he’s been here all this time…?) He’s got a firm goal in mind, and he’s working so hard for that goal he believes in… 

Yamato-san is so masculine and cool. 

I’m nothing compared to him, I… I wouldn’t even be worthy of kissing his feet…. *sniff*

Alexander: ………..What!? Dammit…..! 

AHHHH!!!!

*SPLASH*

Leo: Huh?

*silence*

Leo: Huh? Huh? Did he just fall into the waterfall basin… 

AH! There’s no time to waste! I have to go and save Yamato-san!!

*SPLASH*

Leo: *gasp* *panting* Heave….. HO!!!

Alexander: ….Ug……

Leo: Phew… Somehow I got him out. 

Is he still breathing…? Okay, he’s good. But his eyes aren’t open yet. 

Yamato-san! Yamato-san, stay with me! Yamato-san!!

Alexander: …Ugh… W… Where am I….?

Leo: Ah! Yamato-san!! Can you see me!?

Alexander: Huh….? You’re one of those… Edel Rose…..

Everyone: Leo! / Saionji! / Leo-kun!!! / Chan-Leo!!!

Leo: Everyone! What are you doing out here…?

Yu: That’s our line.

Yukinojo: We’re out here looking for you because we were worried sick about you, of course!

Leo: *gasp* Yuki-sama….

Kakeru: We heard from the delinquent that you seemed down after the table tennis tournament.

Leo: From Taiga-kun?

Taiga: …..Sorry…. about what happened… at the table tennis tournament….

Leo: No, I’m the one who should apologize!

Minato: Well anyway, we’re all just so glad you’re safe.

Shin: We’re so glad!!

Leo: Everyone…

Kouji: By the way, why are the two of you soaking wet?

Leo: Ah! Oh yeah Yamato-san! It was crazy! He fell from the waterfall and–

Hiro: What?! He did?!

Kazuki: …..Wait. Leo, does that mean you–

Leo: Hm?

Anyway I’m just glad Yamato-san is OK now!

Kazuki: (Leo carried Alec through that rough current… by himself?!) 

Haha! Leo, you’re amazing!

Everyone: (….! Leo really saved Alexander all by himself!! Wow!!)

Alexander: ….Uuh… that laughing voice….. 

KAZUKI NISHINA! SHOW YOURSELF!

Leo: No, Yamato-san! You need to get some rest!

Hiro: …… Hehe. I guess nobody can compare to the true Leo. (Things are sure gonna get interesting in the street-style duo tournament…)

(One morning a few days later)

Everyone: Let’s eat! *chew, chew, chew*

Kakeru: Oh ho? Chan-Leo you seem to be in high spirits today.

Leo: Eheh. For the first time in a long time I had a full night’s worth of deep sleep! And thanks to the hot springs, my skin is tight, most, and smooth! ♡ (I got myself all worked up over a lot of things along the way, but...) 

I am gonna be me, the way I am! That’s the best thing to be!

Taiga: (That jerk Alec… He pushed himself to his absolute limit…) I have to train even more!

Kazuki: Taiga, you’re on fire! I won’t lose either!

Hiro: The duo tournament, huh….

Kouji: Hiro?

Yu: Oh what’s this, are you gonna participate after all? Don’t worry, I’ll let you lose gracefully when the time comes.

Hiro: I’m sure you would. But I’m the definitive idol, so…

Yu: Ugh, that again?

Hiro: (….If I do participate, it would have to be as the true me.)

Continue to Road to SSS 3 Main Story

[benisasoftboi]

So on Friday night I made this post:

Which I expected that maybe ten, twenty people would see? I didn’t think anyone would really care about a joke about something so old and obscure, and it would just get lost in all the Detective Pikachu stuff. Instead, within five hours, it had become my most popular post. 

I know it’s still not a huge number, but it’s still way more attention than I’ve ever received for anything... ever, so I’ve been thinking about Pokemon Live a lot since. Which has been bad, because this morning I had to take a very important political economy exam, and instead of thinking about Bretton Woods or Marx, I was thinking about Pokemon. I nearly referred to my country’s former Prime Minister as ‘David Camerupt’. It wasn’t good. 

I need to expunge my thoughts. Specifically, my thoughts on one topic in particular - the way this show treats, or rather mistreats, the character of James. Because I truly, truly love Pokemon Live. I do. It’s one of the most glorious dumpster fires I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching a poor quality recording of. But this is the one thing I definitely don’t love.

I don’t expect anyone to read this. I mean, I said that last time, but this time I really don’t. It’s a long essay on a niche topic, and it isn’t even funny. But on the off chance it’ll get you to stick with me, I promise that there will be pictures of Andrew Rannells cuddling puppies at the end. 

So,

How Pokemon Live Mistreats James, and Why It Matters:

The Mandatory Mentioning of The Actor

I’m guessing anyone who knows anything about Pokemon Live also knows that now highly successful, Tony-nominated Broadway and television actor Andrew Rannells was in it playing James. And if you didn’t, now you know why I’ve mentioned him twice now. I’m a big fan of this guy.

He hated this role. Absolutely despised it. Apparently the show was a miserable environment to work in for everyone. The costumes were uncomfortable. The audiences were unbearable. There’s a making of for this show, which can be viewed on YouTube in its entirety - I’ve watched the whole thing more than once and you can see in every cast member’s eyes - there’s no light there. They’re all dead inside. It’s almost heartbreaking.  

To be clear - he’s the only one of these people I, or anyone else I’ve seen, ever makes fun of for this show. And that’s because he’s fine. He’s fine! He’s done very well for himself and talking about it won’t hurt his career, and there’s just always something really hilarious about seeing very successful people in terrible things, isn’t there? Chris Hemsworth in Saddle Club, Zach Braff in Babysitter’s Club, literally everyone in Foodfight. It’s not malicious or in any way intended to be punching down - just poking fun at a really good actor’s really bad early work. It’s not even really making fun of him, more that he was in this.

But there is one reason he hated the role that I don’t find so funny, and that’s that he felt the people that wrote the thing had made James a grossly over-the-top, borderline-to-over-the-line (depending on your tolerance) homophobic stereotype. And... yeah. They undeniably did that.  

Rannells understandably dislikes the character, and to be honest - that makes me a little sad. Knowing that musical!James is probably the only version of the character he (and likely a lot of parents who saw the show, and other cast members) ever really encountered, that’s a huge shame. Because if we go back to the anime the musical’s based on, the one I, and many others, grew up on, James is quite different. In fact, I personally consider anime!James to be the best character in the entire Pokemon franchise.

Why We Love Team Rocket 

Just want to quickly note that I can only discuss the anime up to about halfway through the Sinnoh seasons - I’ve seen basically nothing after that. My childhood was some original series, a lot of Hoenn, and a fair bit of early Sinnoh (somehow skipped over Johto almost entirely, don’t really know how that happened). If any of this is now not accurate, well - it’s not really relevant for this discussion anyway, but I still apologise. 

The Team Rocket trio, James especially, is, pretty queer-coded. This is not unusual for villainous characters in children’s media before the 2010s, so much so that I would guess that a lot of the time it wasn’t even being done deliberately - it was just that common a trope that it was all but expected your show would have at least one flamboyantly effeminate, villainous bloke. And James - especially early James - has no qualms about showing his feminine side:

Notice that Jessie adopts masculine attire to match - she doesn’t always do this, but I like that they have her at least do it sometimes. 

Team Rocket’s disguises became less and less likely to involve cross dressing as the show went on, but it’s one of the things best remembered about them. James also has a strong association with roses, and possesses several other feminine mannerisms. Arguably he’s far more downplayed than most other villains of the type (even more so than others present in Pokemon - Harley’s a great example, who was also, coincidentally, played by Andrew Rannells), but it’s present. And while yes, obviously in real life none of those things should be taken as definitive indication of a person’s orientation, and straight men are perfectly capable of twirling around in pretty dresses - in fact, I fully endorse it - this is fiction. Specifically fiction from the early 2000s. And in fiction, certain things are intended as visual cues and shorthand.

So I really, really doubt we were supposed to think James is entirely straight (I personally have always thought that he’s actually bi, but I’m not opposed to alternatives). You could make the case, but like. Come on.

But how is this different from musical!James? And how is this different than any other villain like him? Very simple. Anime!James has depth.

Not a tremendous amount. It’s a children’s cartoon made to cash in on a popular video game. But he, and Jessie and Meowth, are among the most well-rounded characters in the show’s cast, in a way that’s actually very relatable. It helps that they aren’t actually very villainous people most of the time. I know so many people who grew up with the show that loved, rooted for, and identified with them over the actual protagonists, by a mile. Myself included - I can remember two separate James-centered episodes that made me cry as a kid.

And these three are particularly beloved by young LGBT adults. We know from their backstories that they all came from rough circumstances - Jessie desperately poor and struggling to get anywhere or be recognised, Meowth having changed a fundamental part of himself in attempt to gain love and instead being ostracised for it, and James running away from an abusive household. They’re three people (/Pokemon) who felt alone in the world, that have now found each other. And whether you view Jessie and James’s relationship as romantic, friendship, or found family, it’s far more compelling than any other relationship in the show, at least to me. They may be criminals, but it’s not hard to see why some kids - especially the kids who might already feel like they’re just a bit different - would latch on to them. 

Even if you didn’t know James’s backstory, he still has a character. He’s frequently shown to be the most moral of the trio, he has a stronger bond with Pokemon than honestly even Ash - even more of a running gag than his flamboyance is the fact that his pets love him so much that they just wanna hug him all the time, with inevitable slapstick consequences - he has dorky hobbies like bottle cap collecting, and he’s even occasionally shown to be a bit of an environmentalist. Yes he is in many ways a stereotypical camp villain - but he’s also more. And that’s why we love him. 

And I’d bet anything there probably were some little boys who watched the show and saw James and thought ‘that guy’s like me!’. And yeah, that guy is a villain, because god forbid a maybe-gay character also be a good guy. But more than any other character like him that I’ve seen, he’s also always been a person. And considering how most of the other options kids like that had at the time were either one-note villains or nothing (and even now it’s sparse pickings) - that’s valuable.

And then there’s Pokemon Live.

*long, long sigh*

Oh, Pokemon Live. You beautiful disaster. 

What did you do to my boy?

Is there nothing that better encapsulates it than the bit where James asks Giovanni where Mecha MewTwo (...I know) “stands on campaign finance reform, social security and Don’t Ask Don’t Tell”?

First off, I like that James is politically engaged! Good for him! Completely out of character, but still!

And I do find this line incredibly funny, but I want to be very clear about why I find it funny. The line is funny because referencing a real world American discriminatory military policy in a Pokemon musical is just... so completely absurd. It’s super jarring and when I first watched it, I had to pause it so I could stop laughing about the possible implications of Pokemon Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. Is there a Pokemon American military then? Pokemon Democrats and Pokemon Republicans? Pokemon Bill Clinton? POKEMONICA LEWINSKY???

It just raises so many questions.

Also Rannells’s delivery is incredible.

But the thing is, that’s not the joke here, is it? The actual ‘joke’ is ‘HA HA HE’S GAY! HE SAID THAT BECAUSE HE’S GAY!’. Which gets even worse when you think about it and realise that this situation is really just a gay man (I don’t think there’s any doubt about it in this particular incarnation, is there) asking his boss whether or not he thinks people like him should be discriminated against. How is that a joke? (The answer is that it isn’t.)

Which makes it that much more inappropriate for a children’s Pokemon musical, which is sort of, in a dark way, almost funnier. It’s that juxtaposition of something kiddy and cute with something that definitely isn’t. 

But hilarious as I find it, given the chance to I would go back and get rid of that line. I dislike what it implies - that being a gay man is nothing more than a punchline - more than I like the absurdist humour. 

And that’s the whole problem with how they chose to write James for this whole thing. They took a really good example of how you can have this type of villain while also making him a good character, and they turned him into nothing more than a stereotype.

You could say ‘but it’s a much shorter story than a TV show! They wouldn’t have time to make him nuanced!’, to which I would say 1. He doesn’t have to be nuanced, he just has to be slightly more than I’M GAY and 2. There have been 21 Pokemon movies at time of writing, two of which came out before Pokemon Live did. None of them, at least of the ones I’ve seen, committed any character assassinations like this. The first one even had another baffling reference to real world America:

That’s so out of nowhere and silly that I laugh every time I think about it (the Minnesota Vikings are an American football team, if you didn’t know). See, Pokemon Live! It’s possible to do jokes like that which aren’t at the expense of a minority group! Wow!

The anime even has examples of how you can do the gay jokes and make them funny. They are very rare in the show (beyond the humour of James’s personality), but remember the whole Flaming Moltres joke? It’s actually great. It’s a couple of good puns, it’s possibly Rachael Lillis’s best delivery in the whole show, and, just for confirmation, I’ve shown the clip to a few actual gay men in my life, who all said that they think that it’s very funny, and totally non-offensive. The joke is still ‘lol he gay’, but it’s also a neat play on words, it feels very in character for both of them, and it doesn’t have the same malicious, taunt-y feel of the Pokemon Live ‘joke’.

Look, the Pokemon anime is far from perfect. There are lots of moments where you have to grit your teeth and remember when it came out. But it still gave us a really, really wonderful character, and he absolutely deserved better than this.

Do I Still Love Pokemon Live?

Yes.

Even with all of this, it’s still an absolute masterpiece of unintentional hilarity. In some ways, this makes it funnier. Of course, of course, it couldn’t just have terrible costumes and a nonsense plot and really, really bad rapping - of course it’s also kind of offensive. Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be.

And I would love to talk about all the things I genuinely love about it, and maybe I will one day.

But the thing is, it’s also representative of everything that was wrong with gay-coded characters at the time, something that the show it’s based on came way closer to handling well than most other stuff of its time, no less. And that, as a whole, isn’t funny at all.

So I want to be clear. I love laughing at this show because it’s a weirdly earnest cash-in musical for something that definitely shouldn’t be a musical, with endless bizarre, quotable moments - not because the way it warped this character is actually funny. I love laughing at the character’s lines because they’re absurd choices for a Pokemon musical - not because they’re in any way funny on their own. And I love laughing at the fact that Andrew Rannells was in it because he is so much better than this - not because this is what I think he should be reduced to.

And speaking of, here’s those pictures I promised:

I love one man.