#kind of a tradition of sorts. been playing since i was ten. i tend to lose lol

[exastrisnonnocere]

Character Info Sheet

NAME: Silas Lane Garcia Alderin

NAME MEANING: Silas meaning 'of the forest' from the Latin Silvanus and he is named after his paternal grandfather. Lane is masculinized from his mother's name Elena (specifically her nickname Lanie), which is the Spanish variation of the name Helen, meaning 'bright, shining light'. Silas's surname is officially Alderin, with his mother's first surname Garcia (of Garcia Villegas or Garcia-Villegas from the traditional dos apellidos convention) listed as a sort of second middle name, since Elena had elected to take her husband's name at the time of their marriage. Garcia is a Spanish surname meaning 'bear', while Alderin is a spelling variation of Aldrin, either from the Old English meaning 'old and wise ruler' or the Old Norse Áleifr meaning 'noble leader'. (OOC: surname was definitely chosen because Buzz Aldrin but also more because mun is a Lily Aldrin from HIMYM stan no regrets)

ALIAS/ES: Nicknamed Si (pronounced like sigh), also called Miguel by his grandfather after he developed dementia and often mistook Silas for his father, Michael.

ETHNICITY: Mexican (Mother's side) & British/Italian (Father's side)

ONE (1) PICTURE YOU LIKE BEST OF YOUR CHARACTER:

THREE HCS YOU'VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE: ( I've been writing this man since 2012, I'm pretty sure I've told everything to one person or another at some point, so we'll go with some HCs I haven't posted on this blog yet. )

Silas is allergic to copper (and incidentally the blood and various other bodily fluids of Vulcans; he learned this the hard way with his Vulcan Academy boyfriend because I thought it was funny af and for literally no other reason)

He really, *really* enjoys getting flowers. Like, a lot. Give this lorge grown ass man flowers and watch him smile and blush.

Silas is not especially a fan of labels in regards to sexuality. Silas has almost exclusively dated men for almost twenty years, but he has also had many emotional relationships with women during that time. If pressed, he would say that he is primarily physically attracted to men and primarily emotionally attracted to women, though both attractions develop with either one, eventually. His relationships with men tend to be intensely passionate, but emotionally shallow or needlessly complicated, while his relationships with women are often deeply established before any kind of desire rears its head. Because of this, the women he falls in love with are usually already well-established as friends, and he declines to pursue any romantic involvement for the sake of the existing relationship.

THREE THINGS YOUR CHARACTER LIKES DOING IN THEIR FREE TIME:

Reading. This boy is always reading like five books at a time. He is partial to poetry and fiction, but he's also all up in the niche scientific and anthropological research spaces.

Cooking. He likes food. Real food. Replicators suck. The end.

Dancing/Singing. He sings while he's cooking. He dances in the shower. Music lives in his body at all times, thank you for coming to my TED talk.

EIGHT PEOPLE YOUR CHARACTER LIKES/LOVES: (PSA: multiship so each one exists in its own little verse unless there's an arranged poly situation going on; also, if you are not on this list don't worry, he likes almost everyone! I just picked the 8 who are closest to him currently and/or have been close to him for years; if we haven't interacted much or haven't discussed their relationship OOC then I don't like to make assumptions about it overall.)

Ten of Eleven aka Madeline - his baby girl, pride and joy, and the true love of his life, his adopted daughter.

Jin Kim - Long time OTP played off-site, biochemist with a crappy disposition but great legs.

Leonard McCoy (@onlybonesleft ) - Sometimes platonic soulmate, sometimes not platonic at all, but inevitably cut from the same cloth. Both men are too used to caring for others and not enough for themselves, so they pester each other into self-care submission and their relationship keeps me up at night because reasons.

Christine Chapel (@nursc ) - The bright spot in a shitty day but also 100% reliable when you need help on the floor. She knows her shit, she gets things done, she's the one he calls when he needs a hand. He hopes she knows she can count on him for the same. His work wife, his non-work wife, his gossip girl, his bestie. Can't live without her, doesn't want to.

Sergio Alderin - His middle brother, closest in age and the one he still sometimes talks to. Schoolteacher. Married to his childhood BFF.

Simon Castelo - His childhood BFF and brother-in-law, keeps him up to date with goings on in his brothers' lives more often than the brothers themselves, given their rocky relationships.

Michael (Mikey) Alderin Jr. - Youngest brother, wanderlust type with little guidance and direction in his life. Suffered in foster care and blames Silas for not being there to protect him.

James T. Kirk (@traiilblazer ) - On-again, off-again lovers, played off-site.

TWO THINGS YOUR CHARACTER REGRETS:

Losing his brothers. While they are all three alive and well, the relationship between them is strained. Silas leaving foster care and his subsequent failure to obtain custody of his younger brothers at the time of their parents' deaths is something he wishes had gone differently. He thinks he gave up too easily, that he should have tried harder. He also carries guilt because, deep down, his failure at the time had been a relief. Relief from the burden of trying to figure out how to provide for and raise his siblings when he, himself, was only 17.

Getting married. Not so much the relationships themselves, but the almost knee-jerk urge to put untested romances under the stress of a long-term, official commitment. Military marriages tho, amirite?

TWO PHOBIAS YOUR CHARACTER HAS:

Autophobia, also called monophobia, isolophobia, or eremophobia, is the specific phobia or a morbid fear or dread of oneself or of being alone, isolated, abandoned, and ignored. For Silas, this manifests as a fear of ending up alone or almost an expectation of abandonment. This is, incidentally, contrary to how he has operated throughout his life in the past, where he is and always has been fiercely independent out of necessity and often chooses not to rely on others for help or support. He often pursues relationships with individuals who need him in some way, rather than pursuing mutuality and emotional intimacy which would require him to be vulnerable, thereby ensuring that he both has intrinsic value to the other person and that if/when the relationship ends, he is not utterly destroyed by it. He believes that love exists, but he does not believe it exists for him or that he is deserving of it.

Trypanophobia is the extreme fear of medical procedures involving injections or hypodermic needles. This seems like an inconvenient fear for a doctor to have, however it only manifests when he himself is facing an injection or medical procedure, himself. The fear, at this point in his life, is fairly minor and easily overcome, however it was, at one point, severe and debilitating to his ability to work. Early in his career, Silas and a few others on his away team encountered a Borg vessel and were partially assimilated during that encounter. After being recovered, the various nanite appendages were surgically removed, but the initial trauma of being injected and losing identity and autonomy was heavily damaging to his mental state for some time after the event.

TAGGED BY STOLEN FROM: @ensnchekov TAGGING: @onlybonesleft & anyone else (if u want u don't have to)

[miramizar]

Hello! Your Secret Santa Again ❄️ Many apologies for the long silence I hope you're doing well!

Thank you for the Exo vid recommendations in your last answer! I haven't seen that many of the concert stages yet and both the ones you named were amazing!! that acoustic medley though!! But since you asked, right now my favorite stages are... maybe the 2019 Smtown in Japan Gravity and the KBS awards For Life?

You also picked the sweetest Suho moments, very fun to revisit. <3 Our leader really puts his heart into everything he does. I haven't started his drama yet either although it looked exciting! I have been watching Xiumin's ceo-dol mart, I just have the last couple episodes left. What have you been watching lately?

My favorite bbh moments... are many lol. I love the late night car ride lives he was doing for a while just singing and driving.

Favorite Kyunsoo songs... all of Empathy? I also really like Wonder off the new album.

I don't know that I have a SHINee bias, I feel like it changes every day but I adore them all. For WayV either Ten or Kun (speaking of lovable dorky leaders).

I like SuJu as well (so many good songs!!) I haven't heard any VIXX- what's your song rec? For Pentagon now is probably a rough time to get into them haha but I would recommend looking up Shine and Naughty Boy those are my favorites, or maybe Daisy or Dr. Bebe if you like a more intense concept.

I am not really a true horror fan but I really like the sort of offbeat gothic creepiness (think Addams Family or SHINee Married to the Music energy) and I like having a season to play that up. I don't have any halloween plans, but I decorated! What about you? Do you celebrate Halloween?

Re: your present, I wanted to ask if there was anything specific you might want? I mostly do digital art, but I can also do traditional drawing, moodboards, edits...I already have some ideas, but lmk if there's anything you had in mind!

Talk soon! <3

Hi!! ❣️ Oh it's definitely okay! And please accept my apologies as well - it's been rather hectic lately and I didn't have wi-fi for a bit and I caught a small cold etc. so I took way longer to answer you than I intended to... I hope that this doesn't make you feel too stressed about my gift? I'd love to receive anything really - I did pick fanart on the sign-up sheet, but I like all the options you mentioned so please feel free to do whatever you feel inspired to do! ✨

How have you been since our last talk? Hearing about you decorating during Halloween made me smile (>v<)🧡 I don't celebrate it myself, (I've been getting ready to celebrate Advent instead hahah) but I do like the aesthetic of it somewhat? And I get what you mean about the Shinee/Addams vibe! There's some humour to the creepiness, which is really nice! ✨ Still, I have to admit that I like watching/listening to darker horror movies/tales in every once in a while, especially if the stories are good (>v<;)

Oh, don't mention it! I'm just happy to hear that you liked those stages as well 💗 and you picked some great ones too! I tend to forget to look for SMTown videos and rewatch the music show stages for some reason, but now I have the perfect opportunity to do so 💫

Aahfbdf your kind words has me smiling really wide over here (>///<)💖 He really does, and I love and admire him so much for it 💕 I'd love to talk to you about Myeon's drama when we get to watch it! And I'd also love to hear what you thought about Xiu's drama - I've seen some gifsets from it and it looks fun! ✨ Sadly I haven't been able to watch anything lately, but I really want to get back into it! (>^<) I've been playing some Ni no Kuni though, maybe that counts ahah

That's a lovely answer! I also love his spontaneous lives where he's just being himself, it's so genuine somehow 💖 You also picked some great songs of Soo's, I can't help but agree with you on loving the entire "Empathy" album! 💚 I have to ask you a hard question now - what is your favourite Baek album? And favourite songs sung by him?

I understand that! They're a bunch of lovable dorks, who's not to adore? (the same goes for pretty much all the groups hahah)💕 I think it's the same with me regarding WayV though, I also gravitate towards Ten and Kun whenever I stop to think about my bias (>w<;)

ooh you're also an elf? I have to ask about the songs you think are good then ahdfbf 🎵Thank you for the Pentagon recommendations! I actually heard Shine and Dr Bebe before, I just forgot? I do like both though! And Naughty boy is so cute, while Daisy really is more intense - but definitely my style! 💗 For Vixx, I got into them thanks to Fantasy, and I still think of it as a favourite along with Shangri-La and Hyde - I like their dark concept, but at the same time some of their gentler songs are the sweetest I've ever heard, like Love letter and The rain! 💌

Thank you for answering all my questions so far, and I'm sorry again for taking so long to reply - I really enjoy reading your messages and I look forward to talking to you again soon ❣️ Take care!!

[yuyupowers]

aristocrat!yunho

aristocrat!yunho x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst

trigger warning(s): description of an anxiety attack, brief description of death, memory loss. let me know if there’s anything else!

author’s note: i swear this wasn’t supposed to be this long sdkjflds

none of the pictures are mine!

for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.

eldest son of a duke

okay, so

among nobility, the jeon family are well respect but considered to be a bit,,,eccentric

they adhere to all the social expectations expected amongst nobles, but their attitude towards non-nobility is what sets them apart

though most noble families are polite when interacting with non-nobility, they generally try to keep their distance; avoid their company, if possible

not the jeong’s 

it wasn’t unusual to see duchess jeong knitting in her tea room with maids, merchant’s wives, or whoever else wanted to come

to see gunho running around with his friends, a pack of street urchins, low, and middle class children

to see yunho in the market helping one of the many older couples haul their cart into place

his family had managed to find the delicate balance of being “normal” enough not to suffer social ostracization, yet “odd” enough for people to dismiss their “peculiar actions” as “typical jeong behaviour”

now, onto the loml yunho

perfect gentleman pt. 2

extremely charming and a great conversationalist

no matter how awkward or shy the other party may be, yunho has this way to draw them out of their shell

(just ask mingi)

excels physical and hands-on activities (i.e. hunting, horseback riding, swordsmanship, etc,,,)

average in terms of book smarts

so while wasn’t about to lead the next technological revolution, he wasn’t “stupid” either

rather, i’d argue that yunho’s brilliant in non-traditional ways

his quick wit and ability to think on his feet is part of his charm

but his greatest strengths are his observational skills and emotional intelligence

able to discern people’s emotional state easily and quickly

he’s someone who’s kind, bright, and genuinely cares about other people’s problems (sometimes a little too much)

a natural leader - people tend to flock towards him

between him and mingi (who despite not acting like it, is extremely book smart), they’ve got all bases covered

(+ yunho’s willingness in using unconventional methods to gather information)

that’s actually how he met you

or rather, “found” seems more appropriate

see, he has an excellent rapport with the street children

being six foot one and offering shoulder rides does wonders

and because he wants to stay updated on what problems the people around him are dealing with, he gets the children to “report” to him if they find or hear anything unusual

(the children are more than eager to play spy, especially when there’s candy involved)

one day while taking a stroll, one of his kids ran up to him totally out of breath

he wheezed something about a “mysterious lady” before grabbing yunho’s hand and dragging leading him to an alley quite far away

to say he was surprised was an understatement

most of the time, his kids brought amusing but mostly useless information to him

(even if he is more than content listening about the cute squirrel they fed earlier that day)

usually they didn’t lead him to an unconscious woman lying in the middle of an empty alley

(yes, that’s you)

hurrying to your side, he drops down and checks to see if you’re alive

other than being unconscious and getting some dirt in your hair and on your clothes, you seemed to be okay

gingerly scooping you into his arms, he tells the little boy to fetch the doctor and bring him to the jeong manor

fast forward a couple hours and you’re roused from your unconscious state by the sharp smell of ammonia mixed with lavender

blearily, you rub your eyes and blink once, twice, before your vision finally clears

then panic

you don’t recognize where you are or the two faces that hover by your bedside

sensing your anxiety, yunho smiles warmly speaks in a soothing tone

“hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re in a safe place. my name’s yunho and this is dr. adley. i found you unconscious in an alley.”

and though you’re very confused and still mildly unnerved, you can tell this yunho guy is genuine

“,,,okay.”

so you settle into the (extremely comfortable) four poster bed and let the doctor examine you

except now it’s time for panic pt.2, but ten times worse because why the hell can’t you remember anything?!

you can’t even remember your own g*d damned name !!

to make things worse, there doesn’t seem to be a reason why you can’t remember anything

no bumps or injuries anywhere on your body

and chances of a robbery gone wrong, a kidnapping, or a failed assassination attempt were very unlikely since you were dressed in commoner’s clothes

disquieted by your alarm and the doctor’s confusion, yunho slips out of the room and returns after several minutes

the doctor, offering apologies to both you and yunho, says he has no idea what’s wrong or what could’ve happened to you

all he can suggest is to rest and hope that your memories eventually come back to you

your burry your face into your hands, a whirlwind of frustration, confusion, and fear brewing in you

apparently nobody, including yourself: 

knows who you are, 

where you came from, 

why you were unconscious, 

and why you lost your memories

to top it off, you have no money

.

…

just when you were about to idk,,,scream and/or punch something-

you feel two large hands engulfing yours, lowering them from your face

taking a seat on the edge of bed, yunho offers a faint smile as he idly traces lines from your wrists to your fingertips

a surprisingly soothing gesture

“,,,i know you’re overwhelmed right now, but please don’t feel as if you have to do this on your own. i talked to my mum and dad; you can stay here until either someone finds you or your memories return. in the meantime, we’ll help you out as much as we can, yeah?”

and though you’re in no position to argue, your first instinct is to decline because though you’re amnesiatic, you still have common sense

what kind of family, wealthy or not (actually, especially wealthy), lets a complete stranger stay in their house?

do these people have no sense of danger?

but yunho is as stubborn as he is kind, and this was how you ended up staying with the jeong’s

(you insist on working to earn your stay, much to yunho’s dismay. in his head, unless it helped in recovering their memories or, unfortunately, was necessary for survival, who would make an amnesiac work?)

the first couple of days were awkward

duke and duchess jeong had briefed everyone in the manor about your situation, but when making casual conversation, lapses in memory and uncomfortable silences were inevitable

“oh, i adore this purple! hey, what’s your favourite colour?”

“,,,i uh,,, don’t know.”

“,,,i’m so sorry-”

but awkward has never a problem for yunho, and you quickly grew fond of the gentle giant

“since we don’t know your name, can i call you little sun? since i found you on a sunny day and you’re little-”

“yunho, not everyone can be six feet tall”

“six one, actually”

“,,,”

true to his word, he does his best to help you recover your memories

roped mingi into helping

when you finished your tasks for the day, he’d bring you to all sorts of places, trying all sorts of things

on a hunting trip with yungi, you discovered that: a) you’re proficient in horseback riding, b) you have astounding aim, and c) you’re surprisingly agile

yunho, who’s always been penchant towards athleticism, was delighted to have someone to compete with

mingi just grumbled. sure he was clumsy, but how did someone with no memory beat him?

while helping the gardener, you found out that you have a rather extensive knowledge of flora

yunho jokingly (kinda) suggested that maybe you were a huntress

mingi bombarded you with questions and quizzes about plants

find out what kind of plant you are by decorating your dream room

hoping that you’d run into someone or somewhere familiar, yunho would take on walks all over the city

during your walks, you learned that you preferred nighttime (while he preferred the day), that you found solace in being alone (while he preferred company), that you liked sweet things (while he preferred chips)

a month,

two,

six months passed liked this

you made progress, but you couldn’t stop the bitterness from bubbling in your chest; negativity spreading through your veins like toxin

sure, you consider your favourite colour to be a precious memory in its own right

but who cares about what your favourite colour is when you can’t remember your own name?

you were vexed by the fact that, at this point, you know more about yunho than yourself

even if learning about him made your heart flutter

just a little

and the nightmares

the nightmares

they drove you crazy

you never remembered what you’d dream of, but every night, without fail, you’d wake with tear stained cheeks and sweat soaked clothes

tonight was particularly bad

normally, when you woke, you’d force yourself to take several deep, calming breaths until your breathing evened, grab a glass of water, then crawl back to bed

today, you couldn’t breathe

no matter what or how hard you tried, your heart wouldn’t stop pummeling against your ribcage;

your blood wouldn’t stop rushing between your ears, creating a cacophony no one else could hear;

wave after wave of nausea would slam into your gut

your vision’s blurring

oh god

you’re gonna pass out

you’re gonna pass out and forget the memories you worked so hard to remember and all the memories you made and you’re gonna forget yunho and mingi and-

suddenly, much like the first day, two large hands engulf your own, idly tracing lines from your wrist to your fingertips

“little sun, it’s me, yunho. your yunho. focus on my hands and voice, yeah? i’m right here.”

he continues to murmur sweet nothings until finally, finally, your heart settles back in your chest, your breathing levels, and your vision clears enough to see yunho

your yunho

and in this state, one look at his kind eyes is enough for the tears you’ve been holding in all this time to spill over

because though you cry in your sleep, you never let yourself cry when you’re awake

too focused on chores, too focused on remembering, too focused on trying to get some semblance of control over this uncontrollable situation

without a word, he pulls you into his chest and runs his fingers through your sweaty hair, offering the sound of his heartbeat to anchor you back to this four poster bed when you were ready

but g*d, does it break his heart to see you cry

he expected to hear you wail, to take the brunt of your fists as you pound his chest

but he hears nothing

instead, he feels your tears soak his shirt, feels how you tremble in his arms

and that is so much worse.

it takes long minute for you to stop crying, and another for you to feel composed enough to detach yourself from yunho’s (now soggy) chest

you’re sure you look awful

puffy eyes, blotchy cheeks, and a runny nose

(and you feel embarrassed that yunho witnessed your breakdown)

but he thumbs away the remaining tears from your cheeks and murmurs that he’ll be right back, returning with tissues and a glass of water 

and a new shirt

he hands you the glass of water, tosses your used tissues in the garbage, and climbs underneath your (technically his) covers, patting the space beside him

when you too find refuge in the warm blankets, he pulls you back into his chest

his arm acts as your pillow as he kisses the crown of your head, murmuring into your hair

“wanna talk about it?”

it takes you several moments, but you eventually tell him about the negativity seeping into every inch of skin

the nightmares you never recall keeping you up at night

the irrational feeling of stupidity because you can’t remember who you are

yunho silently, attentively listens to you as you spill your heart

and if he hadn’t pulled you so close, you might’ve seen the weariness in his usually carefree features

the conflict and hollowness brewing in his normally inviting eyes

but by the time you finished talking and pulled back, the expression was gone and the familiar smile you adored so much was back in place

“tomorrow, let’s go to the place where i found you.”

a faint smile bloomed on your lips because though this wasn’t the first time you visited, it was a reminder that you weren’t alone

that no matter how the chances dwindled, yunho would remind you that it was never zero

it was hope that got you through the night

the two of you have never done anything that could be considered anything but platonic

much to mingi’s irritation

but just for tonight, yunho decides to be a little greedy

he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids, you wrists, your palms, your knuckles, your fingers

anywhere he can reach,

except for your lips

you’re emotionally exhausted and vulnerable; he’d feel like a dick if he forced a decision - especially an emotionally fraught one - onto you right now

he threads your fingers together, murmuring soft promises: you’ll remember who you were, you’ll be okay, you’ll find your way again

and you finally let the exhaustion, the steady rhythm of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, and the warmth and comfort that is yunho lull you to sleep

the next morning is a cold one

gusts of wind bite into your skin as you curl in on yourself, trying to preserve any remaining shred of body heat

noticing this, yunho tucks you under his arm with a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks that were definitely red because of the cold and not because he was flustered

cute

a peaceful silence falls between you two as he leads you to the alley

and since it was early, the only sounds that accompanied you was the quiet patter of your footsteps and the chirps of birds reluctant to travel south

feeling like it simultaneously took too long and not long enough, the two of you arrive

an odd smile settles on yunho’s lips

,,,was that bitterness?

“,,,here we are.”

interrupting your train of thought, he takes your hand and leads you to where he found you

g*d

you could feel it

somewhere in the back of your mind, something almost tangible was shoving its way forward

you’re so close, just a little more and-

suddenly, a chill that had nothing to do with the weather ran down your spine

before you could understand what you were feeling, yunho shoved you behind him and parried the dagger aimed for his chest

a gruff looking man only a little shorter than he stood before him

his clothes tattered and dirty, skin littered with scars, hair and beard scraggly and matted, he looked like one of the many men that inhabited the slums

but those men were sagging skin and bones, never knowing where or if they would get a next meal

this man was muscular

and judging by the familiarity of his actions, this clearly wasn’t his first assassination 

the two men, unable to disengage, snarl as they continue to press into each other

much to your surprise, when you were about to jump into the fray, the assassin screams at you

“YOU ‘UCKING WHORE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! KILL HIM!”

big mistake

because not only is yunho clever and athletic, he’s one lucky bastard

in the brief second the assassin’s attention was diverted, yunho ducks

his weight and moment carries him forward, and he stumbles,,,right onto yunho’s blade.

yanking both his blood soaked short sword and body away from the assassin, the man crumples to the ground

but until life is drained from his eyes, he bores holes into your head, message clear: kill him

a deafening silence weighs down upon you when the man stops breathing

even the wind stills

yunho stands there, a far away look in his eyes as he grips the short sword

blood is splattered all over his hands, across his cheek

it trickles from the hilt, down the blade, and eventually drips onto the ground beneath him

snow begins to drift from the gray skies, landing on his hair, his cheeks, his eyelashes, his coat

as if trying to comfort him

as if trying to wash the blood away

and you?

you couldn’t move.

not when the floodgates had opened and a torrent of memories threatened to pull you under

you knew who you were

you were yn, born to a peasant mother who died at birth and a father that abandoned you soon after

a ghost of a person, and unknown assassin raised by an unnamed noble who resented the jeong’s for their wealth, their nobility, and their favour with the royal family despite their peculiar attitude

nothing but a tool 

a tool told that if successful, he’d grant you wealth and freedom

but that if you failed, he’d kill you himself

…

the assassin wasn’t after yunho, he was after you

a warning to finish the job, or else

…

you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking

and yunho, 

your gentle giant, yunho

envelops your hands in his, idly tracing lines from your wrist to your fingertips

there’s no comfort this time.

not when he drew lines of blood across the back of your hand, not when you searched and couldn’t read anything expect for this sad smile on his ordinarily open features

“,,,do you remember?”

“,,,”

“,,,”

“,,,”

“,,,”

“,,,you knew.”

he did.

his suspicions appeared early on, spurred by your unusually good marksmanship, agility, and uncanny knowledge of plants

specifically poisonous ones

he turned to this “unconventional” ways of gathering information

starting off with his kids,

then some trusted tclose contacts

but when nothing - and he meant a questionable amount of nothing - turned up, he left the legal sphere and delved in the underground; the black markets

yunho has people who owe him favours - people who’s debts he’s paid off, who’s fights he’s fought on their behalf 

it took a few months, but eventually he got the information he wanted

marquess yoo who openly showed his distaste for the jeong family “released his pet into the wild”

but the jeong’s were not stupid, and they were loved

when yunho’s father confided to some close acquaintances about the predicament they were facing, they took matters into their own hands

they never meant to hurt you

only to capture you and talk you out of killing, bribing you with money, protection - threats, if necessary - if you testified against marquess yoo

but somewhere along the way, things got messy 

it ended with an unconscious girl lying in the middle of an abandoned alley; three grown men running away because oh dear lord, she’s dead; and a child leading yunho straight to you

letting go of your hands, yunho goes to kneel beside the man he just killed

closing his eyes, he mutters a prayer for the (not so) poor soul who unknowingly got himself tangled in this mess, and grabs the dagger 

it feels like someone doused you in ice as yunho walks back to you

horror morphs on your face as he gently - why was he always so gentle? - wraps your fingers around the hilt and places the blade against his neck

the smile that you love so much but currently hate rests on his lips as he cups the side of your face with his free hand

his thumb idly brushes against your cheek, eyes twinkling with adoration as he drinks in every last detail of your face as if,,,

as if,,,

he’s ready to die

“no one knows we left this morning and no one knows we’re here; not even mingi. if you kill me, you’ll have enough time to collect some of your reward and run away.”

by now your hands were shaking so much that if yunho didn’t have his hand wrapped around yours, you would’ve dropped the blade

but as the snow floats down and lands in your hair, in his eye lashes, in the fog of your shared breaths, in the space between you,

here to witness a great tragedy

you both knew,

that one of you has to die.

[elitegymnastics]

Q: What is this?

A: It’s a flyer for a virtual fundraiser on June 4th that Elite Gymnastics is playing. You can access the show at quietyear.com

Q: Hasn’t Elite Gymnastics been inactive for like, ten years?

A: Yes. This is the first Elite Gymnastics performance of any kind since November 30th 2012, at the Horn Gallery at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio. 

Q: Why did Elite Gymnastics stop playing shows?

A: Elite Gymnastics started out as me (Jaime) and a bunch of my friends agreeing to help me play my songs live back in 2009. I made a lot of weird demos in GarageBand and my friend Dominique Davis from the band Dearling Physique got tired of watching me sit on them. So, he booked me to play at a show he was curating as part of a small local music and arts festival called Clapperclaw. For several months that’s mainly what EG was. At some point the focus shifted to making recordings rather than playing shows, to participate in the emergent culture of new music distributed via MP3 file-sharing. The lineup winnowed to just me and Josh Clancy, who began creating digital EPs that we posted on this Tumblr page as ZIP files full of MP3s accompanied by a PDF of artwork. This is the incarnation of the group that most people are familiar with.

This was before Patreon existed. If Bandcamp was around, we’d never heard of it. Though MP3 file-sharing culture and file transfer sites like MediaFire and MegaUpload allowed anyone to distribute music freely across the world via the internet, it was still pretty difficult to get people to pay you for it. I think it was for this reason that a lot of internet music back then featured a lot of sampling. A lot of artists’ first forays into the world of DAWs and production took the form of mash-ups, bootleg remixes, and DJ mixes. Artists like Animal Collective, MIA, Kanye West, and Daft Punk for whom sampling was a pillar of their creative process were extremely influential. Elite Gymnastics was no exception - the first song of ours to gain traction online was “Is This On Me?” which made no attempt to hide the fact that it heavily sampled Faye Wong’s “Eyes On Me.” The fact that it was so difficult to make money off MP3s pushed people to make different creative decisions than they would have otherwise. It was sort of a free-for-all.

Eventually, all of this started to change. The major labels started getting a lot more aggressive about trying to destroy MP3 file-sharing culture. Platforms like MegaUpload were raided and taken offline. The replacements that sprung up to replace them were increasingly infested with ads and malware. Corporate platforms like YouTube and SoundCloud adopted Content ID filters to prevent the proliferation of copyrighted music there. Blogs and private torrent trackers being taken down meant thousands of hours of labor were wiped out in an instant. Some of the best archives of the history of recorded music ever created were destroyed without hesitation. Even the most devoted participants lost the will to keep repairing and re-making the stuff that cops and record companies kept obliterating.

Josh and I both dreamed of being able to make a living as musicians. We still do. Back then, we were willing to accept a lot of changes in order to make that possible, which seemed necessary. A lot of the stuff that we were great at just didn’t make any money. Once, we were asked to do a remix of a song called “Sa Sa Samoa” by the band Korallreven. I did the remix by myself, which was normal for us, and Josh was so inspired by it that he spent a week working non-stop to create a video for it. People loved it - the day the video dropped, Pitchfork designated the song as a “Best New Track” and New York Magazine wrote about it in their “Approval Matrix.” The video led to a ton of exposure, but from a financial perspective, it just did not make sense to put that much effort into promoting a remix of someone else’s song. The stuff we were personally excited by just seemed to have less and less to do with what actually makes money.

A lot of internet bands during this era began to palpably shapeshift in an effort to succeed in music as a career. Artists who’d first attracted notice for sample-based bangers they made on a laptop started posing with vintage hardware in their press photos and trading in their laptops for live bands and recording studios. It became harder to distribute DJ mixes or mash-ups that contained copyrighted music in them. Influential bloggers either closed up shop or were absorbed into the traditional music industry in some way. Feeds that once touted bizarre songs by laptop-toting weirdos with no industry connections started to become populated mostly by artists with labels and publicists. The bottom rungs of festival lineups started to consist mostly of new major label signings who have lots of money to spend on stage production but not much in the way of grassroots fan enthusiasm or media buzz. 

Internet music and what people tend to refer to as “indie music” split off into two separate streams. Today, there’s a pretty intense firewall between internet culture and whatever you want to call the culture of vinyl records, mid-sized indie labels with publicists, and positive reviews from the few remaining websites that still pay people to write about music. I call it “publicist indie,” “lifestyle techno,” or “prestige electronica” depending on whether or not the music features guitars and/or vocals. The recent online kerfuffle about NFTs really emphasized this split. The worlds of digital illustration and game development campaigned aggressively against mass adoption of cryptocurrency - if you saw any Medium posts explaining crypto’s environmental issues, chances are they were written by someone from those fields. Every new announcement by an artist that they had minted an NFT was met with a swift and vocal backlash from fans. Though I’ve never really been much of an Aphex Twin fan, it was still pretty startling to look at the replies under his NFT announcement tweet and see hundreds of furious people announcing that he was now dead to them. That’s an artist who has seemed more or less unimpeachable for most of my life up until this point! All of that seemed to change in an instant.

There is a massive disconnect between the insular world of the industry establishment and the cutting edge of online counterculture. We saw this again a couple of weeks ago with the online response to the crisis in Gaza. We saw passionate advocacy for Palestinians from games journalists and developers much more often than we saw it from musicians. This is a very serious problem for music! I do not believe it is possible to please both sides - that is to say, I do not believe it is possible to be part of internet counterculture and the industry establishment simultaneously. The music industry is too conservative, too compromised, too corrupt. If it weren’t for the ocean of valuable copyrights that labels are sitting on, most of them would be bankrupt within a year. If the industry was forced to live or die based on how they handle what’s happening right now in the present, it would most assuredly die. The only people who don’t realize this are those who are being paid to stay ignorant. 

Josh and I did not know this back then. From where we were standing, it looked like internet culture and established media industries were on track to converge. A career in the arts seemed genuinely, tantalizingly possible, right up until the moment that it no longer did. 

In my case, I had really been struggling up until that point. My life had been this ongoing sequence of evictions and hospitalizations, and it seemed to be getting worse, not better. I donated plasma twice a week to pay for groceries and while I was sitting there with a giant needle stuck in my left arm for an hour I would see my picture in The Fader or my songs being recommended by one of the Kings of Leon on Twitter or whatever. Music seemed like the only thing the world thought I was any good at. It felt like my only chance at a peaceful, happy life was somewhere out there in a world I could only perceive through a laptop screen. 

Gender, for me, was a big factor in all of this. The more invested in the craft of songwriting I became, the harder it was to repress or ignore my gender stuff. At that time I’m not sure I even knew what the word “transgender” meant - I just knew that when I showed up at a venue wearing a skirt, no one would talk to me or look me in the eye, and that reading about people like Anohni or Terre Thaemlitz or on the internet made me feel like if I could get out of Minneapolis maybe I could find a place where people would accept me. The internet was like, a pretty toxic place for someone in my position. When I tried to find people to talk to about what I was feeling, nobody tried to tell me to read Judith Butler or ask me what pronouns I preferred. The internet was just like, overrun with predators who just wanted to fetishize me and exploit me. Music seemed like the only way I’d ever have an actual life as myself. I was desperate for that. I was well and truly desperate.

Between all the big changes that were happening to us individually and the music industry moving farther and farther away of the anarchic free-for-all of MP3 file-sharing culture, the strain on us just got to be too much. We stopped trusting each other. We became the unstoppable force and the immovable object, crashing haphazardly against one another’s resolve in a dazzling display of youthful futility. Our partnership ended, and after finishing out the remaining live shows on the calendar by myself, I retired the name “Elite Gymnastics” and started making music on my own under other names. That was that.

Q: Why is Elite Gymnastics coming back now, then?

A: Over the years, Josh and I eventually started talking again. Though there was a lot we did agree on, and potential future projects were discussed, nothing truly felt right. We haven’t been in the same room since Summer 2012, and we’ve both changed a lot since then. We both have other projects and we’ve both developed other ways of working since we stopped working together. It’s a pretty big commitment to put all of that aside in order to join your fortunes together with someone you haven’t seen in a decade.

Recently, Josh decided to leave Elite Gymnastics. His reasons are his own, and I was very surprised by his decision, but after having had time to adjust, I’m really grateful to him. I had kept these songs at a distance for many years, because it seemed foolish to allow myself to get too attached to songs I didn’t feel like I was allowed to think of as mine, if that makes any sense. The songs felt like casualties of a conflict that I had to bury in the ground and try to forget about. Being able to embrace them again felt like re-growing a severed limb or having a loved one come back to life, almost. Feeling like it was safe to love these songs again made me feel whole in a way I didn’t expect to. I became really excited by the prospect of revisiting them, so that’s what I decided to do.

Q: Does this mean you’re going to put RUIN back on Spotify?

A: No. Taking the record off Spotify was the right thing to do. That record was only ever intended to exist during the era of MP3 piracy. I never envisioned a world where the music industry would be so aggressive about policing the way that copyrighted music is allowed to exist online. If we hadn’t opted to take the record down when we did, someone would inevitably have forced us to. If you want to hear those specific recordings again, you’re going to have to do it the way we originally intended: by downloading MP3 files from the internet. Try SoulSeek.

Q: What’s next for Elite Gymnastics, then?

A: Here’s the situation currently. There is no Elite Gymnastics music available to stream or purchase in an official capacity anywhere on the internet. It wouldn’t really be possible for me to put the old stuff on Spotify or Bandcamp now because of all the samples. Like I said before, it was a different time. Those records were created to thrive on a past version of the internet that no longer exists. They weren’t designed to be compatible with the 2021 internet.

Technically, Elite Gymnastics didn’t ever release a debut album. We had EPs, a compilation, and a remix collection. We didn’t make an album, a record that existed as the distillation of all that experimentation that contained all of the songs that fans of the EPs would want to hear, all in one place. It’s like we did Good Fridays but stopped before we made My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

So, I am currently working on the first Elite Gymnastics album. If you were following my stuff as Default Genders, you may have noticed me posting demos on my SoundCloud page from 2015-2018 that were all eventually reworked into the album Main Pop Girl 2019. The album I am making is taking that approach to all the old EG songs, including some unreleased stuff. I’m collaborating with others on some songs and I honestly feel like it has resulted in some of the best and most exciting music I have ever been involved with. It is a drastic reinvention, but iteration and reinvention have always been a big part of what I do. I want to make something that feels like the culmination of everything that came before, and so far, I think I’m succeeding.

Q: When will I be able to hear this new music?

At a virtual fundraiser on June 4th, 2021, where there is a suggested donation of $10. You can access it at quietyear.com

[facets-and-rainbows]

Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session

The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.

(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)

1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come

2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants

3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)

4. Rin's tail is about a meter long

5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them

6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings

7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.

8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc

9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.

10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid

11. She likes industrial style interior designs

12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol

13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)

4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol

15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail

16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house

17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.

18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan

19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs

20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol 

21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation

22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute

23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first

24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time

25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen

26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something

27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)

28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.

29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)

30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join

31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it

32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise

33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special

34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends

35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it

36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That

37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou

38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often

39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language

40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end

41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)

42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??

43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids

44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink

45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay

46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN

47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc

48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down

49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]

50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans

51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc

52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)

53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism

54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto

55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like

56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!

57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram

58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!

59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it

60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him

61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject

62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???

63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)

64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!

66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past

67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu

68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background

69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)

70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over

71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way

72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there

73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS

74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet

75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such

76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending

77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively

78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol

79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently

80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved

81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?

82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together

83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication

84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)

85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR

86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there

87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style

88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy

89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved

90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!

91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved

92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means

93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY

94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene

95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable

96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities.  Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol

97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character

98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever

99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters

100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.

[tessiete]

16 (“If you want, we could go together?”) or 46 (“Shut up, I am a delight!”) for Obi-Wan & Padme, but no pressure whatsoever <3 <3 <3

Pressure! Pressure! Pressure! Lots of pressure. You know how my vanity requires that everything I write be capital P Profound.

This was a lot of fun to write - I forgot how much I love Padme. Now I’m contriving how to have her and Satine in the same fic and see how different they are.

In the meantime, here’s 2k of Padme just staring at Obi-Wan. Hope you’re at work @tree-scapes 

AND NEVER DO HARM TO THE WORLD

She asks him before she’s certain of the wisdom in it, herself, and he looks at her as if he’s only certain of its absence.

“If you want,” she says, “We could go together?”

The hitch in his step makes her wince as they reach the top of the Temple steps. She’s trapped him now, she knows, and feels guilty, but there’s no way for her to withdraw without causing further injury to both their dignities.

“I only suggest it since I know it’s a burden to - to me,” she explains. “And my usual escort is indisposed.”

He smiles. It’s a stiff and awkward line, as though drawn across his face by the unpracticed hand of a child, but he bows, and acquiesces with grace.

“Of course, Senator,” he says. She’s senator again, though moments before with Masters Windu and Koon she’d been Padme, so she knows it’s not the company.

“If it’s no inconvenience. I wouldn’t want to impose on your schedule, if you’d only meant to go for a short -”

“It’s no inconvenience at all,” he insists. His smile is kinder now, his awkwardness eased by the desire to alleviate her own obvious discomfort. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Good. Then I will know to expect you,” she says. With one more shallow bow, and the press of his fingers to hers, she hurries away, anxious to escape the louring gaze of the Temple guardians, and Obi-Wan’s curious stare.

She expects that he will show up, as promised.

She expects he will be, in all ways, gracious and prepared.

She expects stilted conversation, and wonders how often her tongue will stray to speak of Anakin, hoping the wine and frizz won’t alleviate one problem only to create another.

She expects she will spend the evening regretting her impulsive invitation, and making him regret it, if he doesn’t already.

What she does not expect is to be met at her door by a man she hardly recognises.

She has known Obi-Wan Kenobi since she was a girl, and he, hardly more than a boy, though in her eyes even then he’d been a man well beyond the reach of her childish ambition. Met again, he’d seemed...not ancient - one could hardly call him that - but aged, perhaps. Somber. Solemn to the point of serenity. He had an authority of a kind she’d only seen in grandmothers and wild prey, a sort of amused resignation to the motions of life, and an understanding gained through loss and sorrow. Whatever it was, it was something very distant from her, as if he’d grown out while she’d been busy growing up.

But the man that stands before her now is young, and sparkling. And nervous. It is a side of him she’s not seen before, and it has her counting the distance of years in her head. Is it ten? Less than? Surely not more. Are they truly peers?

He wears a skirt of muted blue, with three deep pleats pressed the full length on his right side. The creams of his traditional tabards are replaced with a stiff white tunic, and a thigh-length jacket with wide sleeves that drapes soft as the sky over his shoulders and down his back. It is a curious mix of imposed structure and natural elegance.

“Jedi formalwear,” he explains beneath her curious inspection. His fingers twist at the inside of a sleeve where the fabric hangs just long enough to hide his hand. He extends his opposite arm to offer her proper support. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she agrees, and instead of the more sophisticated and out-dated practice of simply laying her hand atop his, she tucks her arm beneath, and steps close until their arms are pressed between them, more like comrades than indifferent chaperones.

They stay that way until they reach the Feano Lyceum, Obi-Wan’s arm against hers. She is presented first, and his name follows. She thinks he may pull away here, in public, but his hold remains neither loose enough to encourage release, nor tight enough to prove her suspicions about his disquiet correct.

A few ambassadors and fellow diplomats nod in greeting at their arrival, but they are not questioned about their connection. This, Padme realises with some relief, and then worries that the Jedi may sense some of that and go looking for its source. She isn’t certain, yet, what lies within the power of the Force to provide. Anakin seems as attuned to her moods as she is at times, and then so oblivious at others that she thinks they must be total strangers. It would be unfortunate if Obi-Wan were to tend towards the former. If he knew about whom she thought of so often and so well...

It’s been six months since she’d wed her knight, and she’d heard lots about Obi-Wan second-hand, but only as a father, or an overly strict mentor. He is neither of these things tonight. And he is neither of these things to her. So what is Obi-Wan Kenobi?

A Jedi, certainly. Wise. Accomplished. Just. Driven. Demanding. These were all revealed to her by Anakin, and proved to her by history. But he’d said more she was less convinced of.

Stern? Perhaps, though she might instead say serious.

Aloof? Not that. Not judging by the way he leans into her at the approach of the senator from Alk’Lellish III who courts him with a lascivious flick of her tongue, and lingering prehensile limbs.

Cold? Not by the way he nudges her to draw her attention to the buffet table where two politicians abandon a vehement argument to fall into an enthusiastic embrace, stifling a smirk.

Pretentious? Not in how he coaxes her to try some sort of elegantly twisted hors d’oeuvres only to break out into genuine laughter as he watches the spice hit her tongue.

“You knew,” she accuses, trying in vain to wipe at her mouth with a synthcloth napkin in an elegant fashion.

“I might have,” he acknowledges, before mercifully passing over a cocktail from the bar. “It’s a White Knight. Made with nerf-milk. It’ll soothe the sting.”

She throws the drink back with the steel of a seasoned professional, and Obi-Wan’s brow rises in surprise.

“I’ve been in politics a long time,” she says, a warning in her tone.

“Ah,” he says, signalling for two more. “So have I.”

His own drink disappears as quickly as her first, and he calls for a flute of frizz while she sips at the Knight.

“I was under the impression you’d be above all this,” she says. “You know - as a Master of the Order.”

“I had similar delusions,” he agrees, taking a long draught of his drink. “However, it turns out there’s rather more politicking in times of war than of peace.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, it seems that now we are required to be paraded about as the face of the Republic at these things as often as possible. To show we are here. To demonstrate our investment. To prove that the Chancellor is doing something about the Separatist threat.”

He finishes that drink, and reaches for another passing by on a tray. Padme’s smile turns to a frown as she watches that one disappear nearly as rapidly.

“You sound as though you don’t approve,” she says.

Obi-Wan tenses beside her, and turns away to set his empty glass aside. She cannot see his face, so must read what she can in the rigid line of his back as he says, “I lost many friends on Geonosis.”

“I’m sorry.”

When he turns back he is smiling softly once more, and she can’t tell if it is the Knight or some otherworldly radiance of his own that makes him blur at the edges, disguising his hurt, and transforming his disgust into dust, swept away by the fine skirts, and elevated company.

“Don’t be,” he says, deliberately applying her apology to a far less serious wound. “That’s why I came tonight with you. I had hoped you might ease my way, and perform all necessary flattery for me.”

“Oh, I hardly think you need my help in that,” she says, rolling her eyes, content to follow him to safer ground. “Maybe only to keep your admirers at bay.”

A short, sharp exhalation of air, and he falls silent, looking away.

“Why, Master Kenobi,” she cries, entranced and in utter delight, “Are you blushing?”

“That would be rather undignified for someone of my rank,” he denies. “It’s only a flush from the heat of the room.”

“You are blushing!”

“I am not,” he says. “It’s the ventilation that’s lacking.”

She waits. He watches her out of the corner of his eye, until she catches his gaze and holds it. His lips twitch. She can see his facade begin to splinter. It only pushes her to a higher mirth, and she laughs outright as it gives way entirely, leaving them both breathless and gasping.

Their joy catches the interest of several nearby dignitaries, one of whom is the Lellish ambassador with the wandering appendages, and before Obi-Wan can revert back to the blandly pleasant stoic he plays at, she takes him by the hand and leads him to the floor.

“Dance with me,” she says.

His smile remains, though his head tilts in confusion.

“This doesn’t seem a particularly effective way to solicit political support,” he suggests.

“No,” she says. “Not at all. But then I don’t find myself particularly interested in politics tonight, do you, Master Kenobi?”

“Obi-Wan,” he corrects, eyes shining.

“I thought not,” she says, and a smirk winds its way across her lips like the arched spine of a smug felinx.

They dance one set, and then the next, twirling away in a flourish of colour and light the moment anyone steps too near, or looks too close, and for a time they cannot be touched, and when they are spent, they fall laughing, out of line, upon each other.

“Anakin won’t believe this!” she says, her voice still rising with the excitement of the music. She doesn’t realise what she’s said until Obi-Wan’s eyes turn cloudy, and a wedge forms between his brows as he looks on her with a strange regard. “Next time I see him,” she amends. “I’ll tell him your secret.”

The Jedi coughs to clear some stray thought from his throat before it can be said aloud, and looks out over the room.

“Yes, I - I’m sure he’ll be amused,” he agrees. “Though we have attended many functions such as this before. Growing up. On a variety of worlds. It can be of little surprise to him - it seems that such civilized negotiations are common everywhere.”

Padme settles her skirts, and treads cautiously. “I suppose that’s true,” she allows.

“Though I imagine he little suspects that I am capable of such delight.”

“He has never said that,” she says, unwilling to slander Anakin even in her denial of him.

“But evidently, he thinks it,” Obi-Wan says, then sighs, gathering himself again. “Forgive me,” he says. “I find myself more and more uncertain what Anakin thinks, and feels. He doesn’t come to me as - Forgive me. You’re much too young, but I suppose one day, when you have your own younglings eaten up by adulthood you’ll feel it, too.”

“You’re not so old as all that, Obi-Wan,” she chides. “Hardly older than me, and not much older than Anakin. Certainly not old enough to be his father.”

“I was his master,” he corrects. “And now that he is knighted, I’m not certain what I am, anymore. He is changing faster than I am.”

She watches him as he watches the room spin, whirling by him in a wild array of colour and form that he cannot possibly follow - or if he can, then he is even more distant, even more removed from her ability to reckon. He is different. He is set apart, even from Anakin, and she suddenly wonders if that is because of the Force, or because of himself. Is it he who feels removed? He who feels shut out? He who feels divested of his place in the world, defined only by the title others call him and lacking the distinction of earnest comprehension? It isn’t enough, she thinks, to see in him what Anakin sees, or what she might expect. She needs to see him for himself, and appreciate him for that.

“His brother then,” she concludes, and she takes his hand. “And my friend, whatever else besides, no matter what he thinks.”

“If you say so,” he says, and she can feel him yield beneath the pressure of her hand, and the firmness of her conviction.

“I absolutely do. Let’s not think of him. Let’s be whatever we are right now. Let’s be delighted and delightful together, and have just one more dance.”

[anony-mouse-writer]

well if netflix is allowed to give us a crappy washed out edgelord version of winx, then im allowed to post my weird worldbuilding takes on winx club that ive been making for the last year and a half since i rewatched the show. (also i watched the 4kids version so apologies about the names)

general worldbuilding: the three schools of magix are there to train the defenders of the realms.

red fountain trains paladins and knights to protect the kingdoms and their people.

alfea trains magic users to protect the magic of the realms with a concentration on personal transformation and growth.

cloud tower trains magic users to protect the realms themsleves with a concentration on study and magical artificery. because of the rogue witches who tried to steal the dragonfire, there has been a certain amount of tension between the witches and everyone else for a few decades.

bloom: is slightly... odd growing up. sometimes her eyes glow and her base temp is a few degrees higher than is strictly healthy and she is drawn to warm spaces like lizards or cats. her mom invests in a greenhouse extension for her flowershop and no one comments on the hammock bloom strings up to sleep in. she says she’s never picked any major or job in the future because she’s okay where she is at the flower shop, but really its because she feels like shes missing something important and can’t figure it out. it doesn’t go away completely when she gets alfea either, but when she finally gets to sparks/domino, she realizes its because she is carrying the embodiment of an entire realm’s magic in her and that kinda messes up your magic a bit.

stella: solaria has several branches of royalty, but they are mainly split into the three solar courts and the lunar and stellar courts. her father is the king of the first solar courts and her mother is the queen of the lunar court. after their divorce, stella spent far more time dealing with courtly intrigue than she did practicing magic and she ends up getting held back a year at alfea due to missing several fundamental lessons. she tends to be more concerned with official standing and presentation than power or magics, but her alfea/red fountain friends are helping to teach her how normal non-manipulative friendships work.

shes sort of friends with prince skye and squire brandon and when they were kids they came up with a half-cocked plan where she married skye and dated brandon in secret and skye could fall in love with whoever he wanted and then they would be stella’s attendent so it was all covert. it was not a great plan, but it did involve several awkward third-wheeling dates on skye’s behalf and he has so much friendly blackmail in the two of them.

tecna: tecna comes from a planet where instinctual magic is a dying art. if anything, most magic users end up at cloud tower to study artificery, but tecna is determined to learn about raw magic and its applications in magi-tech. magi-tech is different from artificery because artifacts are meant to be used by magic users usually for magical or combative purposes whereas magi-tech is mean to be used by anyone for everyday applications (ie scanners, holograms, etc)

tecna’s species dosn’t have innate genders, but instead pick their gender presentations as they grow older (if at all). tecna picks female so she can attend alfea, but eventually realizes that female feels right and starts to wear less androgynous outfits on ocassion.

musa: musa’s mom used classical instruments (chinese classical, not western) and her dad used a lot more contemporary styles and tools, but together, they produced beautiful music. when her mom died, her dad grew to resent the classical instruments that reminded him of her and musa grew up with only contemporary influences. musa meets galitea (the other fairy from harmonix) in her second year of school and they have long discussions (and eventually jam sessions about musa’s inexperience with any classical or traditional instruments. musa starts to learn the flute and a few of the instruments her mom left her in secret and only tells her dad about it during the concert where she performs with them for the first time. she goes on to make fusion classical/contemporary music.

musa still has an arc with riven, but after season 1 when they break up, she spends season 2 out of any romantic relationships and season 3 realizes she has feelings for galitea. im still not sure if i want her coming to terms with her bisexuality to be tied to her coming to terms with classical music or not.

flora: floras people can talk to plants. this makes eating plants awkward. ergo, floras people are obligate carnivores who also gain energy via photosynthesis. flora is a scientist first and foremost. she studies and wants to develop new ways for plants to thrive in foreign environments without becoming invasive species and is working with both magi-tech and pure magic to find ways for people to get the most out of plants for various medicinal and magical purposes without causing any harm to the plants.

she also works on humanoid-floral communications and spends a lot of time with pumpkin-mytra and later human-myrta learning to break curses which was not her original plan but it was Very Important and so she learned it and ten it was kinda fun so she stuck with it.

layla/aisha: her parents traditional views and ideas are important to them and to ruling tides. aisha has little choice but to accept them and has no outlet for her true self for a long time, leading to some heavy suppression and anxiety. when she gets to meet the pixies, she makes friends for the first time and they teach her a bit about being herself. she still has struggles with expressing her true feelings and swings between respecting her kingdom’s traditions and resenting them for making her be someone she’s not for so long. as she develops as a person and a fairy, she learns eventually to reconcile the two in a way that might not please her parents entirely, but allows for growth and tradition both. she gets along weirdly well with stella who helps her on this journey a lot.

aisha also spends time with fairies and red fountainers (and later possibly even some witches) coming up with better communication lines and various protections for magical creatures who don’t necessarily have specific realms (ie the pixies) since they lack any kind of protection from larger threats besides their own.

other characters:

daphne is a from the fairy school of magic so her job was to protect the magic of sparks/domino when the rogue witches attacked, so she stuffed it (aka the dragonfire) into the crown princess and hid her on a null planet so the coven couldnt find it.

myrta not only moves from the witches school of magics to the fairy school of magics, but she is trans. she gets an arc where flora and later helia help her to figure out her powers and also how to be comfortable as her own person outside of her friendships with lucy or even flora.

riven is a good fighter but a better mage. he wants to best his peers in fighting, and hates that he feels he call of magic pretty strongly. darcy takes advantage of this and encourages him to abandon his magic while draining him of his power. when he is chased from cloud tower and falls, he uses his skills in tandem with a bit of magic to survive. he remains wary of his powers, but eventually learns to accept them and learns to be a mage and a fighter which is Simply Not Done, but honestly at this point riven is done listening to everyone else so he does what he wants and becomes great at both.

the trix spend season one pretending to be regular witches. they play up the ‘mean girls’ routine and spend a lot of time stirring chaos and malcontent at cloud tower. when they finally give up the pretense and try to take the dragon fire for real, they lose a bit of the mean girls vibe and work towards the rogue witch coven’s goal of stealing the magic of various realms. their work in cloud tower does not dissapear and there is a time where a lot of witches have to unlearn a lot of toxic behavior and it sucks a lot.

[bard-llama]

Phillipa, again in Vergen, learns that Saskia wants to marry for love (and maybe a little as a political statement) Iorveth: "Well, we have to find a way to gain some political benefit out of it. At least he is not Stennis, though..."

OH GOD NOT STENNIS!!! I mean, I usually kill the fucker anyway, even though I don't think Geralt would let him die, canonically. BUT knowing that he never faces ANY punishment in canon, I let the fucker die.

But for canon, I do have a WiP where, post-Witcher 3, Iorveth recruits Roche to help him murder war criminals (sans themselves) who profitted off of others' suffering. He figures they need to work their way up to King Stennis of Aedirn. I know that's not what this ask is about, but I love this part, so I'm gonna include a snip under the cut.

Anyway, Philippa - she would 100% find a way to bilk their marriage for all its worth.

So I’m gonna include 2 snips from the WiP whose working title is “Becoming Terrorists Together” 

You know what? Fuck it. Here’s 90% of the whole WiP lmao Seriously, there’s only like, half a page after this.

When Nilfgaard dictated terms that actually favored you after they literally tore a swath across the continent, a reasonable person would listen.

Vernon Roche was not a reasonable person. In point of fact, he typically enjoyed spitting on reasonable people. Especially if they were Nilfgaardian.

Unfortunately, no one asked him his opinion. In fact, there was very little asking going on at all.

“What do you mean, ‘congratulations, you’re in charge now’!?” Roche bellowed. He had a very good bellow, developed from years and years of yelling orders over the battlefield. 

Emhyr var Emreis, Emperor of the Nilfgaardian Empire, King of Cintra, Lord of Metinna, Ebbing, and Gemmera, Sovereign of Nazair, Temeria, and Vicovaro, and Overlord of Aedirn, Redania, and Toussaint was not impressed. “I mean, congratulations. You’ve successfully managed a Free Temeria. Now you have to rule it.”

Roche sputtered. First off, ‘Free Temeria’ was a helluva way to say ‘Temeria, Protectorate of Nilfgaard’. Secondly, “I’m not a ruler.”

“Aren’t you? Shame,” Emhyr said tonelessly. He didn’t look up from the report he was reviewing. “What’s the problem? Isn’t this everything you’ve been fighting for?”

Roche gnashed his teeth together. Unlike a certain former intelligence operative, Roche’s goal had never been to rule. Why the fuck would he want to do that!? Roche was a behind the scenes kind of guy. He most certainly was not the guy to wear the crown.

Also, he’d seen firsthand how much paperwork the guy with the crown had to do. No thank you.

“I don’t know how to run a country,” he growled.

“Then you’re in for a sharp learning curve,” Emhyr shrugged. “I’d get started if I were you. Your swearing in ceremony is in an hour.”

“My fucking what?”

“Your swearing in as the Imperial High Commissioner of Temeria, Administrator of Mahakam, Governor of Ellander, and Presiding Overseer of the Northern Imperial Capital of Vizima, of course.”

Roche gaped in horror. “There’s no way in fuck that I’m becoming – that.”

“Oh?” Emhyr raised a single eyebrow. “Would you prefer that I assign a Nilfgaardian administrator?”

Roche grit his teeth. If Temeria were ruled by a Nilfgaardian still sore about the war efforts, then Temeria’s people would be subjected to harsh treatment, and that was the opposite of everything he’d worked for, dammit.

Still… ruling Temeria? Him!? And that fucking title – no way was he keeping that.

Ah hell, he was going to agree, wasn’t he? Emhyr played him too damn well, knew that Roche wouldn’t be able to say no.

He pursed his lips, frowning deeply. “What exactly would I have to do?”

Emhyr smirked, eyes still focused on the report in front of him. Roche had never wanted to stab anyone quite so badly in his life.

Forty-five minutes later, he was dressed in absurdly expensive Temerian blue robes and three maids were attempting to remove his chaperon.

“Sir, you are to be sworn in as the ruler of an Imperial protectorate! You must look dignified.” Emhyr’s chamberlain insisted.

“I shaved, didn’t I?” Roche shrugged. What was it with Nilfgaardians and beards, anyway? Who really cared if he had a five o’clock shadow?

“You did, sir. But I am afraid they absolutely cannot place your crown over a chaperon. So if you would remove it–”

“Wait, wait, I don’t need a fucking crown!”

“It is Nilfgaardian tradition, sir. Every Imperial Representative has been sworn in with a crown. The people expect a crown. You simply must wear it, I’m afraid.” Mereid, the chamberlain, somehow managed to look innocent and helpful, even as he nodded for the maids to grab at his chaperon again. 

“The people expect an actual fucking ruler,” Roche muttered, dodging the maids. “Chaperons are traditional headwear amongst Temerian nobility. If anything, it’s more dignified to wear it!”

Mereid’s eyes narrowed and Roche felt a prickle of fear at the base of his spine. This was a man who even the Emperor deferred to. He was not to be messed with.

But dammit, did it have to be the chaperon?

“Sir,” Mereid began, his tone icy. “I must ask that you refrain from further struggling and remove the hat.” His eyes looked exactly like Ves’s three seconds before she knifed someone.

Roche removed the chaperon. 

As casually as if he hadn’t just won a protracted battle, Mereid snapped his fingers. “Tend to his hair,” he ordered, and the maids immediately launched themselves at Roche again.

It took every bit of control he had not to bolt. 

Ten minutes later, his hair was slicked back with a truly ridiculous amount of oil to tame his curls. Combined with his undercut, it looked absolutely ridiculous, but apparently Mereid was pleased.

“Now,” Mereid clapped, “we must proceed to the throne room.”

Roche blinked. “There’s not like, actually going to be an audience for this, is there?”

Mereid gave him a look. “The purpose of a coronation is for it to be witnessed, sir.”

“Ah fuck, Ves is never gonna let me forget this,” he groaned. 

“It shall be forever memorialized, of course,” Mereid said casually. “The court painter is already working on your portrait.”

“Oh my gods, I hate everything.”

“Shall we depart, sir?” Mereid gestured to the door in a way that clearly suggested that it was not a question.

Roche glanced at his reflection in the mirror and thought of this being how he was remembered. “Fuck,” he grunted. Nonetheless, he followed Mereid when the chamberlain started out of the room.

Ves laughed at him, of course. She didn’t even have the courtesy to hold it in until after the ceremony. Instead, Roche had to listen to her cackle as Emhyr fucking var Emreis slowly lowered the crown of the King of Temeria onto his head.

Despite what Ves later claimed, he did not tear up at all when Foltest’s crown came to rest on his brow.

“People of Temeria,” Emhyr proclaimed grandly, “I present to you, the Imperial High Commissioner of Temeria, Administrator of Mahakam, Governor of Ellander, and Presiding Overseer of the Northern Imperial Capital of Vizima, Commander Vernon Roche!”

Roche felt vaguely like throwing up even as he stood and faced the scattered applause.

––

A month later, Roche did not want to set everything on fire any less than he had from the start. If anything, the urge had only gotten stronger with each paper he signed. 

He was also, somewhat disappointingly, actually pretty decent at ruling a country. Temeria was doing better than it had since the war had started, and the economy was projected to be back at the level King Foltest had achieved by the end of the year.

Roche still hated it.

With a heavy sigh, he took off the crown and reverently placed it on a cushion. He would love to just be able to toss it aside when it got too heavy on his head, but it was Foltest’s crown. He couldn’t treat it with anything but the appropriate amount of solemnity and respect.

His robes, on the other hand. 

Roche tore off the ridiculously heavy clothing as quickly as possible, leaving his hair a rat’s nest above his head. Then he headed for the one luxury he actually appreciated – the huge opulent bathtub. It was truly ridiculous – made from polished copper, it was inlaid with mother of pearl edging and was everything he hated about rich people – and also really, really nice to soak in.

Once the tub was steaming, Roche slid down until the surface of the water tickled his ears. The tub was deep and he let himself relax into the heat, tilting his head back and letting out a long sigh. The stresses of a life he’d never wanted began to sluice off of him with the water and he rolled his shoulders back against the side of the tub, stretching his neck with a yawn.

When he opened his eyes, he encountered dark red fabric and an olive green eye about three inches from his nose. It took his brain a half-second to process what he was seeing and then Roche found himself screaming, high pitched and shrill, as he grasped frantically at his chaperon to cover himself with.

Jerking back at his scream, the elf wanted in every northern kingdom and Nilfgaard blinked at him. Iorveth, somehow hanging from the ceiling, just stuck a finger in one ear and grimaced at the noise.

“Stop screaming, it’s me,” Iorveth said, offering him a bar of soap as if the leader of the Scoia’tael interrupting his bath wasn’t reason enough to yell.

“What the fuck!?” Roche yelped. “How the fuck did you even get in here!?”

Iorveth shrugged, still hanging upside down. “Your security needs work.”

Roche sputtered. “Why the fuck are you here!?”

“Why, to pay respects to the new Imperial High Commissioner, Administrator, Governor, Overseer, and Commander, of course” Iorveth smirked, mischief sparkling in the eye that was still far too close to him. 

Roche poked Iorveth’s forehead with his pointer finger and pushed him away. “Ever heard of space? Privacy? Not being a shithead?”

Iorveth snorted, and did some sort of complicated flip through the air that left him standing next to Roche’s bathtub. Roche frowned. On the one hand, he didn’t particularly want to be naked and unarmed with Iorveth in the vicinity. On the other hand, he literally just got in, and it would be such a shame to waste the hot water.

Decided, he crossed his arms and glared at Iorveth. “What the fuck, Squirrel?”

Iorveth ignored his glare, poking around his room instead. “There’s no way you aren’t hating every minute of playing king.” The elf flicked the tip of Foltest’s crown.

Roche scowled. “Why are you here? And why aren’t you – you know – killing me?”

“Even death isn’t enough to escape Nilfgaard,” Iorveth said.

Roche’s forehead wrinkled and he squinted at Iorveth. Iorveth continued to search through his room, though the elf considerately stayed within Roche’s sightline.

Roche was suspicious.

“There were rumors you’d died,” he finally said.

Iorveth shrugged. “Not the first time. What, did you believe them this time?”

“No,” he found himself admitting. “Only I’m allowed to kill you.”

Iorveth glanced back at him with a smirk. “Don’t seem to be trying at the moment.”

“Water’s still hot,” Roche grumbled. Iorveth muffled a laugh and Roche was hit by the utter strangeness of chatting casually with fucking Iorveth while sitting in a ridiculously fancy bathtub that he only had because he was currently ruling Temeria.

What the fuck was his life?

Gods, the bathtub really was fantastic, though. He slumped back against the tub and let himself enjoy it, muscles slowly unwinding. If Iorveth killed him, the elf would be doing him a favor. But Iorveth was right – even in death, he probably wouldn’t be able to avoid fucking Nilfgaard.

Roche hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he opened them to see Iorveth staring at him again, though fortunately from much further away this time. “What?”

“This ruler thing isn’t allowed to kill you before I do,” Iorveth said eventually, turning back to poke at the shit decorating Roche’s room. “Fucking shit, your shoulders look tight enough to chop wood on.”

Roche snorted, shrugging shoulders that really were painfully tense. “What, are you offering a massage?”

Iorveth dropped the trinket he’d picked up and fumbled catching it, graceless in a way Roche had never seen an elf be before. Then Iorveth turned to him with a wide eye and what Roche almost thought was a blush. Roche’s eyebrows rose slowly.

“Actually,” Iorveth cleared his throat, “I was thinking of a more violent type of stress relief.”

“What?”

“Nilfgaard wants to quell all unrest in their lands, so they’re not going to prosecute any war criminals. Which means they’re fair game.”

Roche blinked at him. “Iorveth,” he said slowly, “you do realize that technically we are both war criminals?”

Iorveth just shrugged. “‘Least we haven’t gotten rich off of other people’s suffering.”

That was true. At least he and Iorveth had fought for a cause, even if what they did was monstrous. People driven by pure greed disgusted Roche, and he knew there was no shortage of greedy predators preying on those devastated by the war.

“Are you… inviting me to go murder assholes with you?” Roche asked in disbelief.

Iorveth tilted his head, shrugging again. “Essentially.”

Roche sucked on his lower lip. It was a terrible idea. He was leader of a country now, he couldn’t just swan off and do whatever he wanted. And what would they do, run around like vigilantes, punishing the cruel?

That actually sounded really fun. When was the last time he’d had fun? Definitely before fucking Emhyr’s grand fucking idea.

He pursed his lips. It really would be an awful decision, but gods, for the first time in ages, he actually felt interested in something. Excited about something.

“Huh,” Roche huffed, “I don’t think I’ve killed anyone in at least two months.”

Iorveth looked mildly impressed. “We could fix that.”

“It is definitely wrong to long to murder people,” he pointed out.

“Moralize later, dress now,” Iorveth said, picking through his wardrobe. “Where’s your armor? There’s no way you let them take it away in favor of these ridiculous things.” Iorveth held up a velvet brocade robe to support his point.

Roche laughed. Iorveth wasn’t wrong, after all. “Under the bed. Had to hide it from the chamberlain.”

Iorveth turned to the bed, an absurdy lavish four poster bed with chiffon draped ever so precisely around the bedframe. Laying on it felt like laying on a cloud.

Roche hated it. He usually slept on the floor instead. 

“We’re waiting until my bath is done to leave, though,” he said and Iorveth shot him a disbelieving look. “I can’t just waste the hot water,” Roche justified, flushing slightly. A lifetime of little money had taught him that nothing should be wasted. Baths didn’t cost him coin now, but old habits died hard.

“What, and I’m just supposed to wait for you?” Iorveth grumbled.

“Hey, no one invited you here,” Roche pointed out. “I don’t care what you do, but I’d recommend not getting caught at it. You’re still wanted… pretty much everywhere.”

Iorveth smirked proudly, “I know.”

Roche rolled his eyes, yawning and leaning back in the bath, stretching his neck from side to side. 

“That’s a gigantic bathtub,” Iorveth said, something contemplative in his tone.

“Uh huh,” Roche grunted.

“If you’re enjoying the hot water, I don’t see why I shouldn’t,” Iorveth said nonsensically, and Roche opened his eyes to stare.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Iorveth just arched an eyebrow and reached for the straps holding his weapons. 

“Are you fucking serious?” Roche asked in disbelief. It wasn’t that he objected, necessarily – years and years of military life had removed any shame he might’ve felt at being naked in front of his enemy. But naked and sharing a bath? “You know this is weird, right?”

Iorveth just snorted, now setting about removing his numerous weapons. Roche was a little impressed by how many the elf managed to fit on his body. “You, Vernon Roche, are currently ruler of Temeria. Is there any part of your life that isn’t weird nowadays?”

Roche opened his mouth to respond – and then closed it. Iorveth wasn’t wrong, after all. “Claiming to be part of my life?” he finally asked.

“Of course I am,” Iorveth said confidently, “I’m your nemesis and you’re mine.” 

Roche swallowed at that, watching as Iorveth removed his belt, gloves, and all the various straps that held his hodgepodge armor together. Apparently he was really doing this, really planning to join Roche in the bath.

Seriously, what was his life now???

Instead of thinking too hard about that, Roche cleared his throat, jerking his gaze away as Iorveth pulled his chainmail over his head. “So, this murder thing…”

“Mm?” 

“You have a hit list or something? Or were you just planning to run around until you found an appropriately irritating war criminal?”

“Wouldn’t be that hard,” Iorveth muttered. “Stennis of Aedirn is top of my hit list, but not necessarily the best place to start.”

Roche blinked. “Stennis… as in King Stennis?”

Iorveth shrugged, and in Roche’s memory, he could hear that brash voice easily declaring, king or beggar, what’s the difference?

Back then, Roche had had many opinions on the difference. The likes of King Foltest could hardly be compared to some beggar on the streets. Or even some whoreson who had somehow found his way into power.

Now? Now Roche had the blood of two kings on his hands, and really, what was a third?

“That will require careful planning. He’s probably got good security.”

Iorveth was silent for long enough for Roche to look at him again, and he flushed when faced with the sight of Iorveth’s bare chest, ribs visible and skin a handful of shades darker than Roche’s. Iorveth’s gambeson lay in a pile next to him, and the elf was currently working to remove his hose – only at Roche’s words, he’d apparently stopped to stare at Roche instead.

“What?” Roche asked, hoping the heat from the bath hid his blush. Why was he suddenly feeling awkward about nudity? It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen the worst of each other before. Who cared if there was a bit of skin on display?

His eyes caught on the peaks of Iorveth’s nipples, darker than Roche’s – almost the color of polished cedar. Roche bit his lip, feeling oddly fixated as Iorveth’s nipple hardened in the cool air under his gaze.

“I’d heard you killed kings now,” Iorveth said eventually, shifting enough to break Roche’s gaze and when Iorveth bent to remove his hose, Roche quickly turned away. His face and ears felt hot and he sank lower into the tub.

“Gods, I hope people aren’t going around gossiping about that,” he groaned. “Both were supposed to be fucking secret, dammit.”

Iorveth pursed his lips, staring at Roche. “You really did it,” he said slowly, and there was something in his voice that made Roche look at him. Standing naked with absolutely no shame, Iorveth frowned at Roche. “Radovid I get. You got a Free Temeria out of it, and even most dh’oine agree he was insane. But Henselt? Really?”

Roche cleared his throat, determinedly keeping his eyes trained on Iorveth’s face and not the miles of bare skin that lay in front of him. “He deserved it,” Roche grunted.

“He was a king,” Iorveth said, as if that explained everything. Roche frowned at him. “What did he do to drive you that far?”

Iorveth sounded genuinely curious and Roche swallowed. He didn’t really want to talk about this, didn’t really want to remember the way the Kaedweni king had stolen his family from him. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, trying not to go back there. 

A touch on his shoulder startled him and Roche jerked around, blinking wildly as he realized that the touch had been Iorveth – what, comforting him? That was fucking weird. Still, Iorveth’s touch was cool against his slightly-overheated skin, and the look on the elf’s face was more akin to understanding than pity.

Roche supposed that was acceptable. He swallowed harshly and forced himself to answer, “he murdered my men.”

Iorveth inhaled sharply, clearly not having expected that. “Oh,” the elf murmured, obviously lost for words. 

Roche cleared his throat. “So, King Stennis…” he changed the subject, shifting in the tub to allow Iorveth room to climb in.

Iorveth was silent as he took the invitation and stepped into the bath, sighing softly at the touch of hot water. They sat facing away from each other, and the press of Iorveth’s back against his was oddly hypnotic. Roche found himself only able to focus on the places they touched – and the places they didn’t.

“I’m… sorry,” Iorveth eventually said.

Roche blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. “Why?”

Iorveth tapped his fingers against the side of the tub. “Enemies deserve respect,” he said. “The Blue Stripes were uncommon enemies – efficient and ruthless and well-led. I may not feel anything at their deaths – but they were your unit.”

Were. Roche swallowed roughly, digging his fingernails into his palms. “Let’s talk about Stennis,” he grunted forcefully. 

Iorveth sighed, and for a moment, Roche almost thought that Iorveth’s shoulders pressed against his more intentionally. Offering comfort again? What a strange thing for his nemesis to do.

“Why did you come to me?” he asked, not sure if he expected Iorveth to answer truthfully or not. 

Iorveth hummed. “We are remnants of a past age,” Iorveth said slowly. “Our skills are no longer needed nor wanted. Instead, we’re supposed to fit into nicer, less controversial boxes.” Roche could feel Iorveth shrug against him, “I’ve never been one to conform to societal expectations.”

Roche snorted, “yeah, no shit.”

Iorveth huffed in amusement. “I figured you probably hated all this as much as I do.”

Roche grunted in agreement. “The bathtub is nice, at least.”

Iorveth actually laughed, twisting around to face him. “It is. And yet, you still look tense enough to string a bow.”

Roche grumbled. He hadn’t really thought about how he’d left his back exposed to his nemesis, not until cool fingers hesitantly touched his shoulders. Inexplicably, he didn’t tense further, even though touch typically meant violence, especially coming from Iorveth.

Only Iorveth didn’t hurt him. Actually, Iorveth’s touch was gentle as he traced the line of the tattoo that spanned Roche’s shoulders. Roche shivered at the light scratch of Iorveth’s bow calluses, unsure why he was allowing this.

Except that it had been so very long since anyone had touched him in kindness and Roche couldn’t make himself pull away. If he was lucky, this wasn’t some sort of ruse to get him to let his guard down before Iorveth slit his throat.

Though really, Iorveth could kill him right here and now with little resistance – and yet, he continued to live and breathe. Instead, he felt Iorveth’s fingers dip under the surface of the water, continuing to trace the tree tattooed across his back, each branch a tribute to the men he’d lost. 

Roche swallowed, suddenly feeling the urge to cry. He pinched his index finger and thumb together tightly, letting the pressure ground him. 

“So,” he coughed. “King Stennis? Why do you want to kill him?”

“He poisoned the Dragonslayer and faced no consequences,” Iorveth said, a growl in his voice. His fingers traced back up the trunk of the tree on Roche’s back and then he dug his thumbs into Roche’s traps.

Roche gasped sharply, the pressure a painful ache until his muscles slowly unwound under Iorveth’s touch. 

“Seriously,” Iorveth said casually, as if he weren’t apparently giving Roche a shoulder massage. “How are you even able to move right now? You feel like a brick shithouse.”

“Gee, thanks,” Roche snorted, wincing slightly as the heels of Iorveth’s palms kneaded between his shoulder blades.

Then he felt the moment his tension released, and he practically melted into Iorveth’s touch, feeling looser and more relaxed than he had in… fuck, who even knew how long?

Iorveth continued massaging his shoulders, moving up to circle his thumbs against Roche’s neck and dipping down to work at his back on occasion. But Roche wore his stress in his shoulders and Iorveth spent the most time there, fingers strong and agile, pushing and pulling at his muscles with surprising ease.

Roche sighed deeply, closing his eyes and trying to remember the thread of the conversation. Right. Stennis. And the Dragonslayer. He poisoned her? Really?

“I thought the Dragonslayer was alive and well and running the only country that hasn’t succumbed to Nilfgaard?”

“She is,” Iorveth responded, voice low. It added a sense of privacy to their conversation that made Roche feel oddly special. “Geralt and the fucking sorceress healed her. The peasants wanted to make Stennis pay, but apparently Gwynbleidd’s morality won’t allow for a lynching. The nobles, of course, don’t care if Stennis is a poisoner, because he’s royal, so…”

“So now it’s left to you to get revenge?”

“Some might call it justice.”

Roche turned his head to look at Iorveth over his shoulder. “Somehow I doubt anyone would picture either of us as agents of justice.”

“Who cares what others think?” Iorveth shrugged, sliding his thumbs up the nape of Roche’s neck. 

Roche turned back around and let him. “Most people,” Roche answered, leaning into Iorveth’s hands. 

“You don’t,” Iorveth said, voice utterly assured. “As long as it’s for Temeria.”

Roche huffed. He wasn’t wrong, but still. “I think I’m supposed to care now. The whole ruling thing and all?”

“You hate it.”

“Of course I fucking hate it. That’s probably why fucking Emhyr forced it on me.”

Iorveth hummed in agreement, massaging Roche’s neck and the base of his skull. It felt ridiculously good and Roche felt his body melting into Iorveth’s touch, putty in the elf’s hands.

Iorveth could have done anything and Roche wouldn’t have been able to stop him. He could slit Roche’s throat, could drown him in the bath, could break his neck, hell, Iorveth could even suffocate him in a chokehold.

The elf did none of that. Instead, when the water began to cool, Iorveth slid his hands down Roche’s neck and across his shoulders, squeezing them briefly. Then, cool lips pressed against the curve where Roche’s neck met his shoulder. By the time his gasp found voice, Iorveth was already pulling away, rising gracefully to his feet and stepping out of the tub, stealing Roche’s towel.

“There’s a Redanian,” Iorveth said casually, as if he hadn’t just kissed Roche. Roche gaped at him, but Iorveth didn’t appear to notice as he began dressing. “Former general, hoarded medical supplies and food and charged exorbitant prices for them. Located in the Outskirts of Vizima, so figured we could start with that.”

Roche swallowed, belatedly pulling himself out of the tub. Iorveth helpfully passed him the already-wet towel and Roche took it with a grumble. “What’s the target’s name?”

“Arnold of Denesle,” Iorveth answered, still acting like absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He’d even pulled Roche’s armor from under the bed and laid it out for him.

Roche sucked on his lip as he dried off quickly, reaching for his armor. Technically, he supposed, a kiss wasn’t that much stranger than the rest of this situation – i.e. Iorveth having snuck into the royal palace, joined him in the bath, and even given him a massage. Maybe Iorveth was playing some sort of mind game with him?

If that was the case, Roche should really push it from his thoughts. As he got dressed, he tried to do so – but there was something about the way Iorveth’s chapped lips had brushed against his skin that had him shivering, the spot still tingling.

Sometimes, he felt he knew his nemesis well enough to know how Iorveth thought. Other times, it was very clear that as much as he’d studied Iorveth, he had no idea what went through Iorveth’s head.

If Roche’s tattoo sounds familiar, it’s ‘cause I used the same concept in How to Fluster an Elf. This WiP was actually written first, though.

[argylemnwrites]

I Fold

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Book 1, chapter 12)

Word Count: ~2400

Rating: PG-13 (language, mild sensuality)

Summary: Spending time with her always feels like a gamble

Author’s Note: Written for the @choicesmonthlychallenge for August 21 - temptation. With TRH3 coming out today, I found myself feeling a little bummed that I had no desire to play this series I once loved, so I decided to throw this together to revisit a time when I adored this series and these characters.

Drake stepped into the lounge almost tentatively, scanning the room quickly from the doorway and letting out a sigh when he confirmed he was alone. He didn’t want to think about the fact that there was a lot of disappointment mixed in with his relief at that realization.

He walked over to the bar, rooting through the bottles of liquor until he found the Bushmills he was looking for. He had no reason to suspect that she would be joining him tonight. She wouldn’t even know about this lounge at Applewood. But then again, she’d stumbled upon him in that lounge back at the palace without any warning, and she hadn’t exactly known where to find him then, at least at first. It had been pure coincidence.

The truth he didn’t want to admit was that he’d rather enjoyed the handful of nights they’d spent drinking whiskey and playing poker. Before they’d made the trip to Applewood, it had kind of settled into a late night tradition, with her waiting for him in the lounge after the first couple of times. But now, things were apparently back to normal, which Drake knew in his soul was for the best. Since his birthday yesterday, he was having thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be. Or rather, more thoughts he shouldn’t be. But part of him still just wanted to spend a little more time with her.

He took his glass of whiskey and headed for the couches, pulling out his phone and trying to not feel let down that it looked like she wasn’t joining him. After all, he’d never had problems drinking alone before she dropped into his life. So, he pulled up scores from the football matches today and was ready to watch some highlights when he heard the door creak open.

His eyes flew to the door in an instant. There she was, her dark hair swinging as she glanced around the room, a smile appearing when she met his gaze.

“There you are. I’ve been hunting for where you might be hiding,” she said, stepping fully into the lounge, closing the door behind her. She’d changed into a pair of tight jeans and a loose, purplish sort of top. She looked good, so much more comfortable than he’d seen her all day. “After not only being forced to bake today, but forced to bake with Olivia, I definitely need a drink.”

Drake moved to stand up and pour her some whiskey, but she shook her head. “I got it. Why don’t you find some cards?” And just like that, she was striding over to the bar like she owned the place. His eyes drifted down, watching the way her hips and ass rolled in those jeans before he snapped out of it, jerking his head to the side and standing up, running his hands through his hair as he made his way to the small cupboard off to the side. He needed to stop. He couldn’t let himself get carried away here.

“What’s on the drink menu tonight?” he heard her call out as he dug around, trying to find a deck of cards and some poker chips.

“Bushmills, but if you want something else, Liu-”

“Nah, that’s fine with me.” He heard the splash of liquid into a glass as he continued his search. He eventually found an old deck of cards, but there did not appear to be any chips.

“How’s the hunt going?” she asked, her voice much closer. She must be at the coffee table.

“I don’t think there are any poker chips here, Liu.” He reached his arm in as deep as he could, feeling around the back of the cupboard, but he was still coming up empty.

“Hmmm. Do you have any cash on you? We could use that.”

He pivoted to face her, finding her sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, her arms wrapped around her knees. “Are you literally trying to take my money? Because of all your potential marks at the manor, I’m probably the dumbest choice.”

She threw her head back and laughed at that, deep and rich, her black hair hanging like a surreal curtain behind her. “Maybe I just figured I could start small, gradually work my way through the court!” He chuckled lightly at that before she continued, “But seriously, I don’t know. I was just trying to come up with something we could use. So unless you have other ideas…” She trailed off with a little shrug, her dark eyes wide as they locked on his. The silence that followed was tense and expectant. 

Drake swallowed roughly. He could think of one option besides poker chips as he let his eyes drift across her body, picturing each piece of clothing she was wearing piled on the table in front of her. Those damn jeans that fit her like a second skin. That shirt that was loose and slipping off her shoulder just a bit. The bra he knew was blue based on the strap he could see on that shoulder. Her panties, probably not a matching blue, but still undoubtedly perfect, regardless of color.

He tried to reign in his overactive imagination, dragging his eyes back to her face, shocked to see a coy little smirk on her face. It almost felt like she was flirting, like she wanted him to suggest strip poker or something, but he knew he had to be just imagining things, so he shook his head to get that way too appealing fantasy out of his mind, twisting back to the cupboard and looking at their actual options.

“How about Scrabble tiles?”

There was a slight pause before she answered, “That could work.”

So he tugged the old box of Scrabble from the shelf and joined her on the floor, resting his back against the couch behind him as he set the game on the coffee table and handed her the deck of cards, ignoring how her fingers brushed against his as he did so. As she shuffled the deck, he sorted out the tiles, dividing them into vowels and consonants, then sliding half of each pile over to her. 

“Alright, vowels are one, consonants are five, ante is one? That work for you, Liu?”

She nodded. “Five card draw?” They’d mixed it up a couple of times, but they seemed to both prefer the standard.

“Sounds good.”

And so she dealt the cards. He watched her hands as she briskly alternated placing cards in front of each of them. He noticed a bit of glitter in her pink nail polish. He wasn’t sure if she knew that wasn’t exactly appropriate for court, or if she did and it was a tiny bit of rebellion. He liked to think it was the latter.

“So, how long do Apple Court cup-bearer duties last?” Riley asked as she picked up her cards, scanning them over without changing her expression. “Should you have tasted my whiskey before I had any?”

Drake lifted his eyes from the five cards he was holding to look at her. Her eyes were bright and playful, an eyebrow cocked and the corner of her lips quirked up.

“Ha. Ha,” he deadpanned, looking back at his cards, trying to decide whether he should play it safe and keep his pair of tens, or trade in one of them and to go for a flush as he tossed in an “I” as his initial bet. “Nice to see the power of being fake queen is already going to your head. Good practice for when you’re actually queen.”

She let out a little hum at that, but didn’t say anything else when she matched him with an “O.” It surprised Drake, as normally she gave as good as she got. But for whatever reason, his little teasing comment didn’t draw a response from her. He wondered if he’d struck a nerve. That hadn’t been his goal, but maybe she was worried he really saw her as just as stuck up and irritating as the rest of them. He didn’t know how that could be, because who else at court would sit on the floor and drink whiskey straight up with him? But this place tended to have a way of screwing with minds. He knew that better than anyone probably.

“Liu, I was just teasing. I know you aren’t-”

“It’s not that,” she interrupted, shaking her head lightly as she took the three cards he offered her and passed him three new ones from the deck. “It’s just… Do you really think I’ll be queen?”

He felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach. Of course she was just worried that Liam wasn’t as interested as she was. She didn’t care how he saw her at all. He glanced at his new cards, disappointed to find nothing useful. The pair of tens was going to have to be good enough. He tossed an “E” tile into the pot before he answered, “Liu, I’m not gonna act like a teenager and gossip about my best friend’s feelings. You are smart enough to see that-”

“That’s not what I meant. I… sometimes… I don’t know. I just don’t feel like I’m cut out to be queen, you know?”

His eyes jumped to her face, but she was staring at her hand, aggressively avoiding eye contact with him as she tossed in a “K” tile, raising his bet.

“Liu, where is this coming from?” He kept staring at her, trying to determine what she wanted here. Did she want a confidence boost and pep talk? Or did she want his honest assessment? Because while he was sure she could be an amazing queen, a breath of fresh air, bringing common sense and real world experiences to the role, he also was scared of what being queen might do to her. To be queen was to play peacemaker, to embody decorum and diplomacy at all times. And she was too fierce, too intense, too free to ever be truly happy locked away in that gilded cage.

She gave a little shrug after a moment, finally looking up to meet his eyes. “I just don’t have anything in common with any of the other suitors. I’m nothing like them at all, and it just makes me wonder if I’m right for this. They’ve trained all their lives for this shit, and if I am so different from them, then I don’t see how I am remotely the right choice.”

“Your differences from them are why you are the right choice, Liu. You aren’t sheltered or out of touch or completely stuck up your own ass.”

“I just don’t know. It feels so weird and the closer the Coronation gets, I just…” she trailed off, biting her lip and staring at him with those damn eyes. She looked lost and unsure, and he wasn’t used to that.

“Did Olivia or Madeleine say something today?” It was the only thing he could think that would have made her suddenly unsettled.

Riley shook her head aggressively. “God no! And I know better than to let anything those bitches say get to me. I’ve just been thinking about it more lately, and I just can’t picture myself sitting there with a crown on my head and a smile plastered on my face.”

Drake shrugged. She wasn’t exactly wrong, and he wasn’t going to lie to her. She would have to put on a happy face publicly a lot when she married Liam.

When he didn’t say anything, she kept going. “Sometimes it all just feels so surreal, like I’m an actress in some cheap romance movie. I don’t know… I guess the only times I feel like I’m still a real human are…” 

Her eyes dropped to the surface of the coffee table as she trailed off again. He followed her gaze, surprised to see her hand mere millimeters from his, his little finger nearly touching her thumb. It happened almost in slow motion, as he watched her thumb scoot over, brushing over the back of his hand deliberately.

Drake looked up and was shocked to find her staring at him, her gaze so intense it almost felt like it could cut through him. He didn’t know what she was looking for, what she was searching for in him, but he couldn’t bring himself to break the moment, to look away. So he stared right back. The urge to slide their hands together, the temptation to lean over and kiss her was so strong, he almost felt himself leaning towards her.

But he knew he couldn’t. It would be a massive mistake. She was just getting worn down by the stresses of the social season, and she was looking for comfort where she could find it. He knew it had to be true. Hell, the only reason she kept coming back for these midnight poker games was probably because she just needed a moment away from all the pressure and he kind of just represented the antithesis of that whole world. It had nothing to actually do with him beyond his outsider status.

She was here for Liam. He should be the one to kiss away her worries and fears, to hold her close, to reassure her. Drake was just supposed to keep an eye on her, not steal those intimate moments. So he closed his eyes, trying to break the spell it felt like she had him under with her stare as he cleared his throat, sliding his hand back. “I fold.”

He opened his eyes to find her still staring at him, an almost skeptical look in her eyes. He felt his cheeks getting slightly warm with her continued attention, so he shoved the handful of Scrabble tiles over to her, trying to move this evening back in a safer direction. “Here, just take your damn winnings so I can deal the next hand.”

She didn’t say anything as she tossed her hand onto the discard pile and handed him the deck. Out of curiosity, he flipped over those five cards. The five of clubs, the three and nine of diamonds, and the six and Jack of spades. She had nothing, had been bluffing the entire time.

“What can I say? Sometimes you just need to raise the stakes.” He glanced up at her statement and saw her watching him. “What did you have?”

“It doesn’t matter, Liu.” And with that, he shuffled his hand into the deck, dealing the cards out without saying another word. From where he was sitting, the stakes were already high enough.

Permatag: @choicesficwriterscreations  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker  @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @iaminlovewithtrr @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @no-one-u-know @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria  @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs  @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99​

[pynkhues]

Hi, Sophie. I need some advice, and I understand if you aren't comfortable with responding, however I trust your opinion and your perspective which is why I've come to you (this might get long). I am feeling extremely and increasingly despondent about my place in the Good Girls fandom, to the point where I just don't want to write any more. This saddens me, as I enjoy creating content immensely, however I feel my work does not get the same engagement of works with equal merit,

particularly in regards to making it on to the rec lists that circulate a lot. I engage with the fandom, I’m enthusiastic about other’s work and encourage them to create, I consider myself to be a fandom member who understands this place is built on reciprocal engagement however I just don’t feel like I get any love back. This in turn makes me feel like I am genuinely not a good writer, despite my own belief to the contrary, and to wonder if I’m embarrassing myself by even bothering to continue.

I’ve asked for constructive feedback and been honest about not having a bruised ego if people were to tell me why my work doesn’t resonate with them as much as others, however this hasn’t come to anything (do people not do concrit any more?). How do I figure out where I’m going wrong? I know everyone likes to push the platitude of ‘fandom isn’t about receiving glory from others’ but with respect I think that’s an incredibly dismissive attitude to have (not that you appear to have that opinion),

(last message I promise!) particularly when fandom is entirely about interaction and content creation, and the symbiotic relationship between the consumer and the creator. I want people to engage with my work more, what’s the secret?

Hi! I’m so sorry it’s taken a week or so to get to this – it’s just been a bit of wild time lately for a whole suite of work and personal reasons.  

Thank you for reaching out though! And I’m not uncomfortable at all with these sorts of questions. I think it opens up a really interesting conversation, which I’ll circle back to in a sec, but before I get into that, I want to say that I’m really sorry that you’re feeling despondent about your place in the GG fandom! I can’t speak to your specific experience of course, but I will say that I get where you’re coming from. I think it’s something that affects all of us at varying points, including myself, and I think that the sort of despondency you’re talking about is really something that taps into questions of any sort of creative landscape where people are creating and consuming work.

(Under a cut, because this reply is a little meandering, a little personal, annnnd about 4.5k words, haha)

It’s an interesting point too, because I think when we talk about this, we tend to think both of creative communities and/or fandoms as only having these sorts of issues when they’re BIG communities or BIG fandoms, but that’s not true at all. To me the reality of any sort of community – whether that be a million-person Marvel fandom or three-person knitting club – is that you have people wanting to connect with others, and, with the added factor of some of those people having a creative output within that community (whether that be through writing, art, gifsets or a really great set of mittens), you have an added level of vulnerability and investment.

People aren’t just seeking connection, they’re seeking - - well.

A whole lot more.

And you thread the needles of some of the issues of that really well in your ask too. Those three needles being engagement with your work, popularity of certain people, and how that’s bred an insecurity in your own work.

And seriously, as someone who’s worked extensively with creative communities, and on-and-off in cultural production for the last ten years? These are concerns that I think are endemic in all of these spaces; although perhaps I’d articulate them slightly differently.

You say engagement, popularity and the work.

I say community, profile and craft.

Potato, po-tah-toh, haha.

Ultimately these are three things that depend on each other just as much as they exist entirely independently of one another. It’s like a weird, polyamorous relationship that at its best works great and creates a thriving, mutually beneficial environment for people to grow and develop and engage, and at its worst is a totally toxic clusterfuck. Realistically though, this is a spectrum not an either-or scenario, which means probably 98% of the time a community space really is something in-between.

Unpacking the ecosystem of that I think is pretty crucial to the questions that you’re asking, so I hope you don’t mind me using this time as a bit of a launchpad to talk about those things.

Community

During my arts touring days, I used to see a lot of misconceptions around how communities came to be. There tended to very much be this ‘If You Build It, They Will Come’ ideology, which is really not the case at all. Sometimes that might work, but most of the time, community builds from the ground up, not the top down. It begins through – usually – a few people coming together out of need or want or passion, and then if enough people have that need, that want, that passion, that community will likely grow. That growth though is usually championed by certain members of said community, because communities do tend to need - - not leaders per se, but people who are invested and drive things that create space for engagement.

Fandom’s not any different at all, and in that sense the communities are built similarly around participation, trust, discussion and content, things I don’t really feel like I need to elaborate on because you clearly know that from your ask, and most of this post is going to be about the last of those things, but I think it’s just worth mentioning. Particularly because I want to add to that that in my experience, communities are also usually built pretty strongly around regularity.

For a show like Good Girls it’s kind of great because that regularity is built into the DNA of traditional TV – it airs weekly as opposed to being dropped in bingeable packets. So that sort of gives you this in-built ten, thirteen, eleven, soon-to-hopefully-be-sixteen weeks where there are appointments for engagement. As a part of that, you get an organic flurry of activity and a degree of commitment from people participating, which is further bolstered by the time in-between episodes having drops of sneak peek clips and promo pictures which in turn bolster speculation, theorising, and a hunger for creative content i.e. fic, art and gifsets.

Working in cultural production, we typically call this ‘appointment programming’ because the idea is that you build community around a regular event. People put it in their diaries, and choose to show-up. It used to be integral to TV, but it’s becoming far less so, but that’s a whole other thing. Appointment programming though encompasses a lot more than just TV viewing, it’s a part of our international cultural ecosystem – it’s festivals and cons, it’s touring concerts and shows, it’s showcases, it’s workshops – it’s anything that builds engagement around a specific experience, at a specific time.

The reason I bring this up is that to me – from my years of experience in fandom and natural tendency to think a lot about / dissect things that I participate in, haha – is that I think fandom spaces typically continue this appointment programming and production beyond the parameters of the content itself. We see this through conventions, fanfic big bangs and other challenges, awards, events, as well as just regular content generation.

Good Girls in particular has a lot of community-driven appointment programming. There’s the weekly re-watch I’ve done on here since August last year, as well as back in 2019, there’s @foxmagpie’s Good Girls’ Appreciation Week, @nottonyharrison’s fic awards, prompt-a-thon and kinkfest, the new fic awards too which are going around, as well as fic authors who publish regularly or on a fixed schedule - @fairhairedkings’ FBI fic I think being the best example of that.

But it’s not even always that structured. I’ll talk about this a bit more in my section on Profile below, but I think this extends to asks and replies. Basically to the expectation of content, whether that be gifs or art or fic or meta or surveys or rec lists, or some combination of all of the above.

I categorically hate the term, but the reason ‘Big Name Fans’ become ‘Big Name Fans’ are usually because their blogs become touchstones for more content (whether that’s original or sharing other people’s), which in turn means occasionally some voices can generate a profile that makes them sort of central figures of the broader community – because there’s this guarantee that you’re gonna go there and you’re gonna get regularly fed. Their blogs, including mine I think, become in and of themselves sort of ‘appointment programming’. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings on this in particular, both good and bad, but my feelings on it don’t particularly matter in this context, haha, so I’m going to leave that thread there.

The point I’m getting at is that while a community builds organically, a community, like anything, needs to be fed to grow, and that people are more likely to engage when they’re being fed regularly.

Look at this way, I was definitely at my most popular in this fandom when I was more or less posting an instalment of Playing House every week. Like, seriously - -

And that was on top of answering between three and ten asks a day.

In that sense, I think that outputs got a lot to do with engagement, particularly in smaller fandoms. There are fewer content producers, which I think bolsters the profile of the one’s posting a lot, regularly, which I think in turn can have the unfortunate trickle down effects too where other members of the fandom see there as being this wall and hierarchy that doesn’t necessarily actually exist, simply because certain names become prevalent.

I think if you come from a big fandom where there are 50, 100, 250 big content producers, it’s a bit more liberating and a lot easier to ‘curate your experience’ so to speak, whereas perhaps in a small fandom, like Good Girls, where there maaaaybe 15 regular content creators, that’s a lot harder. In the end I think that some people feel like you have to like and follow certain people and their work (you don’t!), that ‘it’s cool’ to not like those people (it’s not!), and that certain voices are being ‘silenced’ simply because they don’t have the same profile for whatever reason. Unfortunately that’s hard to get out of, because being in a small fandom is the equivalent of being in a very small, very hot room with not a lot of people, but enough that you’re going to bump into literally everyone on your way in and out of it.

(This is a bit of an aside, but I just want to say that that things do get personal in communities because you do get to know people and have relationships and they can end badly. It also sucks when those personal issues with members of the community bleed over and become public and make the space overall a bit shit. I’m very much guilty of this and will own that, but I have been trying hard to do better, and have completely stopped certain behaviours.

All that said, I do want to flag here that the very nature of this post means I’m going to be honest about my experiences. It’s not meant as subtags or as pointed comments, it’s just - - me talking about said experiences. If these people do still stalk my blog, which well - - I know they do because other people send me shit, haha, I hope that they don’t take any of this the wrong way).

So yeah – I think smaller fandoms can by their very nature become a bit of a melting pot of personalities which results in engagement becoming politicised. I personally do try to share everyone and to not politicise fic recs. I even rec people I personally don’t get along with if I feel it’s appropriate to do so i.e. my episode fic recs, but I’m pretty aware that that type of engagement is not a courtesy extended back to me. It did bum me out for a hot minute with a couple of people, gotta be honest, haha; one person in particular because I didn’t feel like we had a personal beef prior to her doing this, so I didn’t really understand why she was purposefully excluding me. 

I knew she read my fics, and I knew it was personally targeted because she DM’d a friend (who I don’t think she realised was a friend of mine) and told her not to rec my fics which is – y’know – in my mind just kind of a dick move? (also really weird, like - - people aren’t going to leave the fandom just because you don’t like them, and you can’t omit them to a point they cease to exist lol), but at the end of the day, she can do whatever she wants, and I can’t control her behaviour, but I can control my own and propagate the culture that I want to be a part of.

On the flipside of that though, small fandoms – and bumping into everyone, haha – can also be great! It can foster friendships and relationships that really form the backbone of any community, and it’s really there that a lot of engagement outside of appointment-based consumption comes from. It’s those relationships that build growth and excitement and conversations and ultimately support.

I guess my point here is that often engagement and recs and championing can be a bit personal, and where you fit in a community, your relationships with people – good and bad – impacts the way people engage with your work. The funny thing is though right, like, jumping back a point, you might not even know what the beef someone has with you is. You can’t ever entirely know how people like or dislike you, where ego comes into it (and as someone who’s been in a lot of creative spaces, ego is alwaaaays present), what vulnerabilities and insecurities people have, where people are at in their creative journey, to say nothing of cultural differences in online spaces where people are from all over the world.

It’s complicated, is what I’m getting at, and the I think where you fit in community can have a big impact on how your work is received, even if we all like to say otherwise.  

Profile

Let’s talk about Like an Unsung Chorus.

This is a fic that I wrote back in 2018. At the point of writing this answer, it’s the most kudos’ed fic in the GG category on ao3, and the most bookmarked.

Do I think it’s the best fic in the fandom?

Fuck no, haha. I don’t even think it’s the best fic I’ve written in this fandom, let alone among the rest of the talent we have here.

I think to talk about the success of that fic is to break it down to a few different factors:

I wrote that during the s1/s2 hiatus when there just weren’t that many fics, particularly long running ones, which means there wasn’t a lot of ‘appointment engagements’ for people to tap into. There were some really great ones! Please don’t get me wrong there! But there weren’t a lot.

I published the last chapter the day 2.01 aired, which means it was close to the top of ao3 the day the new season started + new fans arrived, and lapsed fans returned, which means it was a pretty meaty, finished fic for people to jump into straight away.

I created this sideblog a few weeks before I posted the last chapter, and the combination of that + the fic meant people started sending me asks about the show, which I started answering.

It’s been the most kudos’ed fic more or less since then, so it means every wave of new fans who search for Good Girls fic and sort by kudos – for better or worse – see that fic first, and well. Then it’s a self-perpetuating cycle.

Profile’s a funny thing to talk about I think when it comes to fandom because I tend to flip-flop on how much it has an impact on readers specifically. Like – yes, I’m a prolific member of this fandom, and I have the most kudos’ed fic in it, but my Ruby-centred fic Blue Moon only has 31 kudos and 300 hits, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sometimes bum me out. I like it as a story, I like that it prioritised character and backstory, I like what I wrote, and it’s not even that it just didn’t resonate, that low number of hits (just as a point of comparison, Chorus has almost 22k hits, and my most-read one-shot in this fandom has 12k hits) tells me a lot of people didn’t even give it a chance.

So in that sense, does profile even matter?

Okay, dumb question, Sophie, haha, yes, of course it has an impact.

I mean, comparing Blue Moon to Chorus is a false dichotomy for starters – one’s character-focused, not ship-focused; one’s a pastiche, the other is a plot heavy canon-extension; one’s a one-shot, one’s got 11 chapters, etc etc, but I do think it’s worth acknowledging what a small percentage of that readership transferred between them. My profile might have made a few people give it a shot, but it certainly didn’t affect all of them.

What I’m getting at here is that I think popularity and profile can often bear more weight in conversation than it does necessarily in reality. I do think that it has weight – I know for instance that some of my weirder concepts like Mick x Mary Pat got more traction than it necessarily would’ve if a brand new author to the fandom had written it – but I also think profile tips the scales in the opposite direction too. I mean I just talked about this but – personal beefs, people with those personal beefs actively encouraging others not to read or rec that person’s fics, people avoiding higher profile authors because they feel ignored by them (rightfully or wrongfully), etc etc.

Profile and popularity is, in a lot of ways, a double edged sword. I think it can bolster interest in your story and amplify your potential audience – particularly if you’re writing a story that hits the right note for people – but I also don’t think engagement is necessarily as symbiotic as you said in your ask.

I mean, I think it helps, but if the way people engaged with our work balanced with the way we engaged with other people’s works, we’d have a very different most kudos’ed fic list on ao3 (and I include myself in that – I’m not the best at commenting, although I do try to share and rec a lot).

So I guess that brings us to craft.

Craft

Like with the other two points, I can’t point solely to the craft of writing as having an answer to your question. I mean, I can’t speak to your writing at all given you’re on anon of course, but I think overall this is a really talented fandom, but it can be hard to predict the fics that strike a chord with people, but then, isn’t that true of all storytelling?

I mean, I could talk forever right now about arcs and scaffolding, emotional beats, thematic throughlines, whatever, but at the end of the day, what hits that note for you is probably different to what hits it for me. The way we engage with stories is subjective, what appeals to us is ultimately manufactured out of our unique histories, experiences, thought processes, desires and a million other things. There isn’t a secret ingredient, no recipe to be followed; if there was, everyone would have the world’s most popular story on their hands.

What’s important is to tell the story that resonates with you, because yeah, you want to be proud of the story that you’re writing, you want to enjoy it, but also that’s the one that’s going to feel authentic to a reader as well, and you do that through knowing who your characters are, what the story you’re telling is, and committing to that. Gosh, that’s why Twilight is cemented in our pop culture history alongside Animal Farm. There’s honesty to experience, whether that be manifesting teenage forever love with vampires or loading up farm animals with Russian Revolution metaphor.

But still, let me switch hats for a minute – fandom Sophie to editor Sophie, haha

Okay. Take all of this with a grain of salt, but here are some things I have noticed when reading fic, not just in this fandom but others too. These are broad, big picture comments – again, I can’t speak to you specifically because you’re on anon, and again, I can’t predict what makes things popular – but again. These are things I’ve pretty actively noticed when reading fic, and could play a role in perhaps a story not resonating as much as the author might want it to:

Missing Scenes

Writers like to skip ahead to the fun bits. That’s fine! Do it! Enjoy it! But when you skip the scenes that impact the next, just because you want to get to the next, your story will feel the loss of it.

That’s one of the best bits of writing advice I ever got actually – if a scene isn’t working, the issue often isn’t with that scene, it’s usually with one of the ones that got you there.

Storytelling is entirely made up of cause and effect, and if you skip out on the cause, the effect’s not going to work.

I’d really encourage you to embrace the unfun scenes, make them work hard with character development, conflict building, mood setting, so that the fun scenes sing.

 Mood

Speaking of, really think about mood. When I’m writing, sometimes I don’t even know the story yet, but I know the mood of what I’m writing, the tone of it. I know if I want it to be fun and flirty or rough and angsty or tight and thrilling, and I try to feel that and imbue that into the process of my writing. Mood goes so far, and it’s what really creates resonance with the story that you’re telling. It’s what impacts the way you write dialogue, engage setting, build conflict, and it’s going to not just guide you as a writer, but your reader as an audience.

It’s an exercise I use a lot when I’m teaching, but think of it this way: two girls walk alone through the woods. A basic premise. Now think about how differently you’d write it if it was: comedy; family fairytale; horror.

Those are completely different stories, right? And what you focus on and how you write it is going to be so different. So even if you’re just trying to write something and you don’t really know what, just have a little think about the mood of it, and what sort of feeling you want readers to take away from it. And then! Use that mood when you’re thinking about setting (the trees in these woods are going to look very different after all if it’s a children’s fantasy vs a horror), action and dialogue. Embrace it! 

Space

Space informs mood which informs the way we read stories.

I just touched on it in the above section, but embedding your story in a space is going to bring out so many different parts of it. It gives your characters objects to interact with, an environment to feel, a stage to play on.

Nothing happens in a vacuum, so why write that way? And again – space informs mood which ultimately is what creates resonance. Think of the gothic sprawl of the moors in Wuthering Heights or the way the house is used in The Lovely Bones to trap Lindsey when she finds the lock of her dead sister’s hair.

Understanding space can really level up your writing and make it feel alive.

(If you’re just starting out with this sort of thing, look at pictures, draw a map! It’ll help a lot). 

But why?

My favourite and least favourite writing question, haha.

It’s also my favourite and least favourite question as a reader. Understanding character motivations – whether they be major or minor characters – is pivotal to investing a reader in the journey of your story. As a reader, I don’t have to like it, but I need to get it, and that’s something I think is often unfortunately missing.

Engagement

Oof, this got long, haha. Sorry! There were a few personal tangents in there, but my point is ultimately that there isn’t a simple, single answer for your questions. The way people engage are, in my experience, this perfect cocktail of totally predictable and completely unpredictable. I think place in community and profile helps in some respects, but not in others, I think engagement can as much be about popularity as it can be about craft, and even beyond that, I think how readers connect with certain stories are beyond the scope of anything I can explain. I see great fics get overlooked, and fics that I don’t think are particularly well-written hit a huge note with pretty much everyone in the fandom, so I don’t know. I don’t think quality writing always has that much to do with it, and like I said above, I don’t even necessarily think profile breeds engagement.

All of this said, I do think that authenticity goes a long way with engagement. I know a few people who are very blatantly tit-for-tat with how they engage with others, which personally I find hmmmmmmmmmmm, I guess I’d say telling of people’s priorities within fandom? Which is fine! We’re all here for our own reasons, but I know it affects how I personally interact with those people because it’s not behaviour I personally value. I know for me, I’m more likely to engage if people are warm and friendly and contributing to positive culture and conversation within fandom, but I’d also always prefer to engage with people who were just openly different in opinion than people who pretend to be friendly but are actually the first to talk shit behind your back.

So I guess all of this is summing up to be:

Regularity and consistency of posting goes a long way.

Profile does help, but it’s not the be-all-and-end-all by any stretch of the imagination.

Community and profile mean different things to different people.

Authenticity of approach creates better quality, more organic engagement.

Never stop learning about writing, because the more you learn, the richer your stories will be.

Keep growing and challenging what you know about stories.

Know that sometimes your story is more niche than you think.

People responding to your stories unfortunately isn’t a lock and key situation. People like different shaped keyholes! And sometimes something that looks like a key doesn’t actually fit that, and sometimes something that looks like - - I don’t know, a fish, fits perfectly. Okay, I’ve extended this metaphor too far now, haha.

I don’t think this is the answer you want, but it’s the only one I can really give, and it’s 5k words of context and hopefully a little bit of advice, haha. But look, write what you enjoy, find people you like engaging with and be proactive in talking to the people who are engaging with your writing already. Contribute positively and meaningfully, and do so authentically, and don’t give up!

There’s a great Stephen King quote which says – and I’m paraphrasing here, haha – that you’re not a real writer until you can wallpaper your house in rejection letters; and as someone who can absolutely do that and is about to have her first novel published with Penguin Random House, it’s really true.

You become a better writer through putting yourself out there, building networks and community, reading, learning, engaging, seeing what works and what doesn’t, understanding how profile bolsters readership, but more so than anything else, you become a better, more resonant writer through the act of writing.

And that’s as true of fanfic as it is of any writing.

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and villains

Janus Bullard: Drift away

When you don't let people close, they tend to drift away. Janus seems to struggle to understand that.

Masterlist

When sophomore year started, Janus had few comforts in their lives. One, Virgil and uncle Lo and their parents. Their constant pillars of support and comfort. And two, they were really good at languages. Which boosted their confidence quite a bit. They breezed through the curriculum for Spanish of last year and studied the rest of the material in their free time, because learning it was fun to them. They already knew French, and by the time finals rolled around they got to take a special test that had effectively gotten them a free period where their language elective should be for the rest of high school. The school prided themselves on adjusting the curriculum to the level of the students. And the best performing students even got to go on a weeklong trip after finals were over. The rest of the school had showcase week. Which meant that all the clubs and electives got to show off their stuff. Janus was not particularly interested in the showcase. He didn’t participate in anything and he knew no one who would be showing anything. So he chose to go on the trip. Virgil didn’t come along despite qualifying. He didn’t want to leave his dad by himself for that long. It was very sweet really. Janus would have argued against it, but it occurred to them that maybe if they were away from Virgil for a bit, then the feelings would calm down and they could just come out and get back to normal without Virgil having to learn that they ever were attracted to him in the first place. It didn’t work. They missed Virgil a lot, to start with. Missing makes the heart grow fonder indeed. It really drove home for him how much he couldn’t stand to lose his friend. On top of that the guys that were with them on the trip were… not the best company to keep. It all started out well. Virgil had made him a special shirt to congratulate him with passing his advanced Language exams. It was a black shirt with a yellow print. A minimalistic open snake mouth on their chest with ‘hiss hiss’ above it. Scales scattered along the left side to match their marks. They loved it. It was a reference to Remus’ old nickname for them. ‘Snakeface’. From anyone else it would have been an insult. But Remus meant it as a complement. Their travel companions, from schools all over the city thought it looked bad ass. It was a great ice breaker if nothing else when they wore it on the first day. That didn’t last long though. On the second night they were talking with the other guys in the boys dormitory. One mentioned a cousin of theirs came out not too long ago. “And his folks actually let him stay. My parents cut ties right away. Can’t believe I used to play ball with a twink.” Janus just barely managed to hide how the word hit them. The other guys agreed and, as much as they hated it, so did they. To say that that was the last time they were confronted with the fact that if these guys were to get to know the real them, they’d make their week hell, would be a lie. And as they heard slurs and jokes about the LGBTQ+ community tossed around as if it was nothing, they started to wonder. Would their parents be okay with it? They thought they would. They’d never seemed to be against the community. They recalled hearing their mother gush about the cute pride stuff they’d spotted in the mall a few times. But accepting that other people were queer and accepting that their son was sometimes more like a daughter and also gay and aromantic… That was something entirely different. And Virgil? Saying you don’t care and actually having to live with the knowledge that your best friend was… broken… What kind of freak were they even that they couldn’t pick a gender? Why couldn’t they fall in love like normal teens? Virgil’d had plenty of crushes already. He’d admitted he hadn’t even told them about all of them! So clearly it wasn’t that hard. Except for them. Because they had to be messed up in every way possible. The way they looked, the way they felt, what they were… When they got home Virgil was at their bedroom door almost within ten minutes of them putting their bag down. “You’re back!” he grinned, excited to see them again. “Tell me everything! Was it worth it letting me die of boredom?” he teased, throwing an arm over their shoulder in a sort of sideways hug. Janus flinched away from Virgil’s proximity. Being close to him made them want to be closer. But still not in the way Virgil might understand. If they just kept him on arm’s length, then things would be ok… Right? Virgil let them go. It didn’t look like he found it odd that Janus wanted distance. Janus tried to remember last time he’d initiated a hug or anything of the sort… With anyone… Maybe they had been a little more distant lately as it was. Good, then it wouldn’t be too obvious if they pushed a little more. They had to. To protect Virgil, to keep him in their life. No one could know. They couldn’t risk it. “It was cool. Saw lots of awesome stuff. The guys were dumb though. Guess no one can replace you,” they smiled carefully. “Aw, J. You’re such a sap,” Virgil teased with a playful punch to the arm. Was that bad? Did straight guys say stuff like that to their friends? Were they being obvious? “Shut up,” he retorted with a push. Not mean. Just playful. That was still okay right? “Movie night?” Virgil suggested, holding up his bag with his part of their collection. Janus hesitated. They needed time. “I’m beat. Maybe some other time,” they shrugged. Virgil nodded. “Okay. See you later J!” And just like that Virgil was out the door. They let themselves fall onto their bed. They had to figure themselves out. Again. Summer passed and Janus found a system that worked for them. It wasn’t great, but it would have to do. They had bought a few cute tops they enjoyed on Janice days. So they wore those when they were needed underneath a baggy hoodie or something else that would hide it. If there was a chance of them needing to take off said ‘cover item’ they’d wear a shirt that was too big like the band shirt. In addition they made sure to act plenty masculine on those days. They hated that part the most. But it was needed. When it came to Virgil, since their problem was just physical all they had to do was make sure they weren’t too close. Which was easier said and done. Hugs and pats on the back and the like used to reassure them so much and now they were a risk. Even if they never acted on the thoughts when they appeared, Virgil might notice. So they had a plan. Not the best plan. But to keep Virgil with them. To keep them both safe. They would do it. First day of school came around and Janice found themself alone at the bus stop. Which was odd. Virgil wasn’t usually late… Maybe he accidently took a bus too early again. Was that going to be a first day tradition? Janice couldn’t be too upset by that. It was just so typically Virgil, and they already looked forward to teasing him about it later. What wasn’t typically Virgil however was him not texting Janice to let them know his mix up. Maybe he hadn’t realized he was early yet? Janice wondered if they should ask Virgil where he was… Better not. They’d see Virgil soon enough. And he’d probably feel bad if they made too big a deal out of it. Again, typical for Virgil, making everything his fault or responsibility somehow. When they got to school though, Virgil was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t in their homeroom either. Which Janice wouldn’t have found too odd. There was always a chance of homeroom getting switched around. But then the teacher handed them two schedules. One for themself and one for Virgil. Virgil was late? Was he sick? Janice looked at the schedules. They shared their first two classes and then they had language electives. Which meant Janice would have a free period while Virgil should be in Spanish. They promised themself to call if Virgil hadn’t shown up by then. Two hours late was a reasonable time to get worried right? They checked their phone as they walked to science class and took a seat. Virgil hadn’t texted at all. Was he ill? Should they text anyway? “Mr. Johnson. You may take a seat next to Mr. Bullard. Class will commence soon.” Janice, mentally cringing at the male honorific, glanced at the kid that just entered. Ugh, they remembered him. He’d had a locker not too far from his last year. He always got in their way, the amount of times he’d bumped into them was infuriating. And now he was about to take Virgil’s seat. But not if they could help it. “Ma’am, I was actually saving this seat for…” “No one. This is my class and I say Mr. Johnson sits next to you.” Janice was taken aback. Most teachers at least heard them out if he asked something. And in almost every case he got what he needed even if he didn’t always get what he wanted. This one didn’t even want to listen though. They glared at the boy… Carlton, if they remembered correctly, as he took the seat next to them. The boy shrunk away, he was trembling… Janice supposed they had been pretty rude to him last year. Not that they cared. It just would make being desk mates very annoying. Janice didn’t waste time on wanting others to like them.

“It’s your lucky day Mr. Castile,” the teacher said dryly the second the bell rang. No… Janice looked up, there he was. The school’s golden boy. He looked slightly out of breath, and smiled sheepishly. “Apologies miss,” he replied as he looked around, probably looking for an empty seat. For a moment his eyes found Janice and he was clearly about as happy as they were with Janice being here on the seat right behind the only empty bench. Janice had an extra reason to be upset though. Castile would be sitting next to Virgil. He took the seat next to the window, right in front of Janice. Janice’s thoughts were racing. How were they supposed to function with that idiot around? They hadn’t had to interact with him too often last year. And when they did Janice had made sure he knew that they saw right through the knight in shining armor act he put up for the rest of the school. He only acted like that to impress their classmates. He was in theatre. He lived for the praise. “I hope you like where you are sitting… Ah, so glad you could join us Mr. Anker.” Janice tensed up when they saw the way Castile’s head snapped up, a bright smile on their face. It was such a genuine reaction… Why though? He had enough friends. Why was Virgil so important that he seemed genuinely happy to see him? “Take your seat and spare me your excuses,” the teacher snapped when Virgil opened his mouth to speak. “I was just telling the class that these are your seats for the rest of the year. So I hope you like your neighbor, they are your new lab partner.” Virgil’s face fell and he looked around. His make up was gone and he looked a mess, but other than that he seemed fine. Janice would have to ask him what had happened this morning later. To their annoyance, Virgil’s gaze didn’t even make it to their seat. Once he spotted the empty seat next to Castile, he too, lit up. Why? What did Castile have that was so special? Other than a pretty face? They watched Castile wave at Virgil, getting rewarded with a smile from their best friend.

“Man, talk about a lucky break,” Virgil said as he sat down. That hurt. Didn’t he want to sit with them? They tried to calm themselves. Virgil had simply not noticed them. He wouldn’t have said that if he knew they were in this class too. “I agree,” Castile grinned. That smug piece of… He knew they were here. He was taunting them! Class started, and Janice managed to ignore the pair in front of them. They even calmed down. Found themselves a little amused at their neighbor’s not so subtle glances at the desk in front of them. They’d spotted the pride flag stitched in their assigned lab partner’s pencil case. Maybe they should lay off a little. Poor kid had a crush on Roman Castile. He had enough to deal with. But then the experiment started. They divided the work so Johnson wouldn’t have to talk with them too much. they did their best to focus on their part of the assignment. But it proved difficult. Virgil and Roman were doing every step together and they were having fun. They talked and joked with familiarity that told Janice that somehow, Castile had managed to weasel his way into Virgil’s life, despite their efforts to chase him away. Sure they’d overheard from conversations in the hallways that Virgil was still standing up to bullies and that the Hispanic teen had joined him on occasion. But had that really been all it took? Suddenly Virgil got up, bringing a paper to the front. Damn, they had to focus. They managed to block out their surroundings for a good while. Until Virgil’s laugh pulled them out. He was looking very comfortable, sitting there with the enemy.

“Only you can pull of talking like a Shakespeare character,” Virgil grinned. “Well, only you can pull off dressing like a dark knight and still looking like a lost kitten,” Castile shot back. Janice tensed. How dare he ridicule their best friend like that? Virgil gave Roman a shove. “You take that back!” he demanded “I am dark and mysterious and intimidating!” Janice had to interfere, before Virgil got himself in trouble. they took an empty page from their notebook, crushed it in their fist and tossed it against Castile’s head. Both boys turned to look at them. Their attention was on Castile though. “What gives Bullard?” he hissed. No, it wasn’t attractive when he got that serious and intense look in his eyes. He was annoying and a danger. He was going to hurt Virgil. Or take him away and then hurt him. “You take Smellington next time. Virgil is sitting with me.” It was a good solution. Castile would be unable to resist being a knight in shining armor, so Janice acted as if they were the big bad Johnson had to be saved from. Carlton got to sit next to his crush, and Janice and Virgil could sit together. Like they should have been. Everyone happy. “Excuse me? His name is Carlton.” Just as Janice suspected. There was the hero complex. “And you don’t get to say where I sit J. I’m fine sitting with Roman. Besides you heard the teacher. No switching seats.” That… What? Virgil wanted to sit there? And he was offended that Janice tried to help? “We always sit together!” they reminded him. They were a team right? Them against the world? They’d have each other’s back no matter what… Right? Virgil’s jaw set. “Exactly. The world won’t end because I’m Roman’s lab partner J.” Where was all this coming from? What had Castile been poisoning his mind with? “Am I interrupting?” Janice looked up to the teacher. She still didn’t look like she was in the mood to listen to Janice. But they had to try. “Mr. Bullard,” once again, that stung. “I don’t have you and Mr. Jonson’s assignment yet, which means you can’t be talking with anyone else besides each other right now.” Oh, she really wasn’t in the mood to listen. Against better judgement, Janice gave her their most charming smile. If they knew that they were being perfectly reasonable, people usually followed along with their way of thinking. “Ma’am, I can’t work with him. Virgil and I never had a problem in projects, can’t we…” “No.” Janice nearly flinched at the finality of that word. But the teacher wasn’t done yet. “I put Mr. Jonson next to you because you are much too dependent on Mr. Anker’s presence.” She’d done it on purpose? And dependent? What did she mean? They weren’t that… Had it been so obvious to outsiders? Did she know? “You won’t always be able to hide behind him Mr. Bullard. You better learn that now.” They hadn’t! They’d stopped hiding in middle school. They’d been trying to be the shield! “And if I see any more problems here then all that’ll change is that Mr. Castile and Mr. Anker will be moved to the front of the class so you can’t distract them anymore. Is that understood?” She had it all wrong. She didn’t understand. But Janice knew they couldn’t do anything about it. So they nodded and returned their attention to their assignment.

They finished up the last of their notes when Virgil laughed again. “Charming huh? You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.” Janice’s jaw clenched. They agreed, but Virgil’s tone was too playful. Like it was when he was teasing them. “Oh, my knight, why must you hurt me so?” Castile objected dramatically. Janice did their best to block out the rest of the conversation and focus on finishing the assignment with Johnson. Whatever was said between Castile and Virgil after that, it had him pretty excited.

He dragged Janice to the bathroom where he started to apply foundation and a two second version of his usual eyeshadow. “Where were you?” Janice asked on their way there. Virgil bit his lip. “Dad was home late yesterday and forgot to tell me…” he told them. Oh, now Janice understood. Virgil was the kind of guy who saw you fall and worried if you’d broken something while rushing you to the nurse no matter what you said. He worried a lot. He was a lot like uncle Lo in that way. His father not being his punctual self without warning must’ve been very stressful. “And you didn’t go to bed until you were sure he was safe and sound,” Janice nodded in understanding. “Yeah… I must’ve forgotten to set my alarm or something.” At this point they’d arrived in the bathroom and Virgil took out his foundation and started fixing up his appearance. Needlessly in Janice’s opinion, but they had bigger things to worry about.

“Listen, I’m sorry for being so snappy earlier. I know you worry about me and stuff but Roman is really not as bad as you think. He even invited us to sit with him and his friends during lunch!” he announced excitedly as he put away his make-up. “Then you'll see for yourself…” Lunch with Roman Castile and all his friends? All people who could discover their secrets? One slip up on a Janice day, one lingering look towards Virgil or Castile and they were out.

And being around not one, but two guys they found attractive… they couldn't bear it.

“Absolutely not!” they objected in a panic. “Jan, it’s just lunch,” Virgil argued gently. “If it’s not fun then we can bail on them any time. You are the one who’s so obsessed with our spot on the social ladder. What do we have to lose?” He made good points. And part of Janice wanted the protection a group like that offered. But Virgil didn't have the full picture. Janice cast their eyes to the heavens trying to hide the conflict within, to play off how worried and scared they felt. “I don’t expect you to understand this Virgil. But the offer wasn’t for us. Castile wants something from you. And he’ll have his friends be nice to me around you to get it.”

Virgil was clearly not impressed. “I know I’m not exactly mister sunshine, but that’s overly dramatic and pessimistic. Roman is cool. Like, genuinely. And if you gave him a chance…” “Oh please Virgil! You are not this naïve!” Janice exclaimed. Harsh in their desperation to finish the conversation.

“Why do you want his friendship so badly that you blind yourself like this?” Weren't they enough? What did they do wrong? “He can have anything from anyone he wants! Why would he want to be around some awkward outcasts?” Why did he insist on pursuing the only person Janus cared about at school? “Except to make himself look good? What end does that serve? Everything anyone ever does serves some selfish end Virgil. Even the most noble of deeds are ultimately out of desire to be seen as good.” Just because Janus hadn’t figured out what Roman Castile had to gain from talking to them, didn’t mean that there wasn’t some end goal. “Except for you of course, you only have my best interest at heart!?” Virgil’s statement caught them of guard. He had a point. Part of this was their fear of being alone, being found out and rejected. But it was also for Virgil's own good. They needed Virgil to understand that. To believe them. And so they did something they had been avoiding. They got close. Stepped right into Virgil's personal space. If they wanted, and Virgil hadn’t hidden them behind his foundation, they could’ve counted the freckles on Virgil’s cheeks. But now was no time for those observations. They had to get through to him. No matter what. “You are my only friend Virgil. Of course I want to protect you, even from yourself. Don’t let Roman’s flowery words and cute pet names get to you.” Kitten, knight. The nerve of that guy. “I give him a week before he gets bored of you. And I don’t want to see you hurt by that.” That last part was the most sincere he'd been about how he felt towards Virgil in what felt like forever.

All fight left Virgil’s frame and he nodded. Janice relaxed and led the way to their first CPR training. They made sure to wait for Virgil when he left Spanish. Virgil was quiet all day. He got like that sometimes after a disagreement. Janice tried to give him space. They had been a little harsh. And after Virgil had a rough night already. They knew he needed comfort and support on those days. No wonder he’d gravitated towards Castile this morning. All that positive energy probably drew Virgil in like a moth to a flame. Janice should have been more understanding. Maybe they could have a movie night next weekend. With V's favorite snacks and movies.

They’d make it up to him. And then they could get back to something somewhat normal.

It worked. Virgil seemed in better spirits after they suggested the weekend plans. Janus paid closer attention and ensured that Virgil wouldn't fall for Castile's tricks though.

They stuck together like always. Janus had started chatting with native Spanish speakers, learning more regional words and slang. They were also learning ASL. Virgil laughed when they explained the name signs they made up for him, uncle Lo and their parents.

Things were going well. Until Halloween came around. Virgil loved Halloween. He didn’t show it off at school, considering he put the least possible effort in his school costume the past two years, but when at home, he was a master. Janus had enjoyed watching him and uncle Lo dazzle the trick or treaters. They’d considered asking Virgil to give them a spook up as well, but that would mean close proximity for extended periods of time. And they couldn’t handle that. This year Janus had drawn some scales on their face and assembled a dragon costume. They’d even gotten crafty with the wings. Using a pair of children’s fairy wings as a base. Virgil had complemented them, which had made them feel pretty good about themselves. Virgil was texting with his dad that morning. Apparently he had a thing coming up that weekend and was rather nervous. Janus was happy to hear that their honorary uncle had exciting things happen in his life. They didn’t pry for more information though. Surely Virgil would’ve shared more if there was more to know. And then Castile had walked in. Looking ridiculously handsome even if he was trying to look like a crazed dark prince. Redish circles under his eyes, run out make up. As if he’d recently cried a river. His costume was dark and slightly torn and crumpled. And still he looked good. He made a big show of his entrance and made a tour around the classroom before climbing on his desk and continuing his tale of conquest. Janus, not immune to the boy’s massive charisma, made sure to glare at him so that if the prince would happen to glance their direction he wouldn’t give anything away. Glaring at the dark prince wasn’t hard, considering he also had his neighbor’s attention. Virgil was enjoying the show.

And apparently Castile noticed. He made a grand gesture towards Virgil. “And you, my coldhearted friend, may rule at my side!” Janus’ eyes narrowed. Was this the thing? Was Roman looking for a second in command? It was a good picture they supposed. The nickname ‘Knight’ suddenly made a lot of sense. It would fit. They both stood against the bullies, no doubt earning them both a good image in the public eye. If they were considered a team all the time, Roman’s spot on the social ladder would get even more secure. Was that it? “Is that a fact?” Virgil chuckled, pulling Janus out of his thoughts. Was he… Was he seriously going along with it? “Of course!” Janus hated how excited Castile seemed. “You, dear count, are the only other of noble lineage! No one else is worthy of a throne!” “But ruling sounds like a lot of work,” Virgil whined. Janus held their breath… But the laughter that followed… Wasn’t bad. Castile immediately rolled with Virgil’s contribution. “Then you may feast on my enemies!” To Janus’ great relief, the teacher entered in that moment. Their nerves couldn’t take much more than that. On the way to CPR Janus tried to get Virgil back with his feet on the ground. “You were lucky, but that could have gone so wrong!” they exclaimed. Virgil, surprised them however. “Roman and I are lab partners, and we’re going to talk,” Virgil reminded them. They knew that. But they got on fine with minimal communication with their neighbor. And Virgil had been doing fine too… Or… Well, maybe he hadn’t been happy about it… “And sometimes we’re going to have fun doing so. You have zero right to tell me who I can and can’t spend time with. I’m not your pet.” That hit Janus hard… Was that… Had they been acting that badly? Maybe they’d been too clingy. Overcompensating for the physical distance they’d forced themselves to maintain? They let Virgil walk to Spanish alone and spent their free hour thinking things through. Maybe they were a tad controlling… And Virgil talking to Castile a little during science might not be the end of the world… They could try to live with that right? When they saw Castile drag Virgil to his table during lunch they could barely breathe. Virgil looked so happy about it too. Had they been too late to make adjustments? Was this their life now? The very nightmare they’d tried to prevent? But then, Virgil and Roman made a bow and Virgil walked back to Janus. People watched him walk by the way Janus had seen them do with popular kids. They admired him? Was… Had Virgil become a popular kid without either of them realizing? “Talk about putting yourself on blast! What were you thinking?” they snapped, still reeling with emotions. “Yolo,” Virgil shrugged. And ‘cool’ was the only term Janus could come up with to describe the way he held himself right now. “No one says that anymore,” Janus pointed out, as if to convince themself that Virgil wasn’t that kind of cool. “It’s what I was thinking.” Or maybe he was… Janus tried not to bother Virgil about who he chose to hang out with after that day. It wasn’t easy though. Virgil and Castile were almost flirty with each other and Janus found that very distracting. Add that to everything else that frustrated them and you better hope you didn’t cross Janus on a Janice day after a bad night. They picked a lot of fights. Partly to prove themselves as a cis. Partly to vent these frustrations on something other than Castile. Speaking off. It was nearly always him or Virgil or both who stopped the fight. Roman would stare them down until they left. Virgil would tell them off and drag them away if need be. Both were… possibly… another reason why they picked a fight. Negative attention was still attention after all. On a particular bad day, a senior decided to pick on them. And they were not having it.

Castile and Virgil put a stop to that one. But the principal called them to their office anyway. “He started it,” Janice insisted. They were sitting in the office for a couple of minutes now, with the Principal just looking at them expectantly. “Oh? How’s that?” Janice gestured to their face. They’d gotten good at ignoring the jabs the past few years. Knowing that they couldn’t do anything against an upper classman and having bigger things to worry about. But today… Today it had just been too much. “It’s not the first time you got into a fight Janus. We want to help. But you have to let us. What is bothering you? Really. Why are you so angry?”

Oh, where to start? Janice just shrugged, not comfortable opening that can of worms in front of this adult. They wouldn’t understand. Janus heard they’d been vocal about their sexuality and gender since middle school. All they would do was tell them to just come out already. The principal sighed. “We’ll have to inform your parents of this Janus…” “No you don’t,” Janice stated. He wasn’t even scared. Stokes was a reasonable person. “Why’s that?” They wondered. “I didn’t hit him. And he didn’t hit me. No one got hurt. What’s the point of calling my parents? My grades are good, I never skip. So I don’t let people walk over me… Is that so bad?” they explained. Stokes frowned, but then relaxed. “Fine. But at least consider going to the school counselor. At least once. There are systems here to help you. You just have to ask.” Yeah, they’d get right on that. “Tanks Mx. Stokes,” they muttered as they left. A few weeks later Janus was looking over elective courses with Virgil. Janus had been careful about selecting courses for them. They could pick two courses each year. One every semester. First year, Virgil had made a deep dive into some articles about how messed up the education system was and how useless the curriculum was. So Janus suggested Personal Finances and Home economics. Which was basically the: ‘how to adult’ elective packet. This year they’d picked CPR, which Virgil had enjoyed a lot and Philosophy. They’d suggested it out of personal interest. They’d known it might not be Virgil’s cup of tea, but to their pleasant surprise Virgil had agreed. “Sociology would be a good choice,” Janus suggested, testing the waters. They really hoped Virgil would be okay with it. It seemed very interesting. Virgil only made a vague sound of acknowledgement though. Well, there were other interesting subjects… “I was thinking to take an art elective,” he told Janus after a few moments. Janus was surprised. Virgil never cared about electives before. And art? “Why?” “Because I’d like to actually learn some techniques? I dunno. They say to pick something that fits our interests. I’m interested in art.” Janus had no idea where the annoyed tone came from. Sure Virgil drew and he was good. But… To make it your elective? Virgil knew that those choices would affect their chances at getting accepted into college right? Especially for the next two years. “But we can’t do anything with that in college,” they reminded him, just in case. “I suppose it’s a decent extracurricular,” they admitted, wanting to find a compromise. But saying that reminded them. They should probably pick some good ones for the next two years as well. They looked good on application forms.

“But…” Virgil objected interrupting Janus’ musings on the pro and cons of joining a sports team. “I really want to do art. The new teacher is a pretty awesome artist I’ve been kind of following for a while. This might be my only chance to learn from him.” The arts program was heavily volunteer based, which allowed the school to offer many different electives and even more extracurricular. The teachers largely donated their time and switched around semester to semester. If this artist was indeed someone of note, they might be gone after Christmas. So on some level Janus understood. But why would Virgil need to spend a perfectly good elective on something he was already good at? He could probably teach the class himself. “Don’t be dramatic V. It’s not like you can make a career out of drawings,” they pointed out dismissively. Maybe they were a little crass. But Virgil couldn’t afford to live in a fantasy. Art was personal and showing it gave other people a weapon against you. And Janus really felt they should start picking electives based more on what they wanted their career to be. Janus was thinking journalist or lawyer for themselves. They weren’t sure what Virgil would pick. Last time they’d talked about such things was… Back when they still thought they were cis and straight. And they’d been joking about going into hero business. Daydreaming about opening a specialized store or becoming heroes themselves. But maybe Virgil would be a lawyer too. He’d probably like defending the little guy in the courtroom. He was already doing that in the hallways. Or some other function in law enforcement. Janus couldn’t imagine Virgil not trying to make the world a better place. “It makes me happy,” Virgil pointed out, though barely audible. Good, he was realizing there was no point to that class. “A career isn’t about what makes you happy, it’s about what gets you ahead in life.” And with that, Janus returned their attention to the electives. Not aware of the mistake they’d just made.

Mistakes

@cirishere @hestianerd1​ @moonlightshow00​ @naturallyunstablegamer​ @alias290​ @meowthefluffy​ @frida0043​ @angelic-cali​ @selenechris​ @theblackveilinreverse​

[purplesurveys]

1250

Do you own any Funko Pop! figurines?  No. I had a brief period where I wanted to start collecting them SO BAD and often went to toy stores to gawk at the figures I felt like I needed to have; but I grew out of that and I don’t even really give Funkos a second glance whenever I see them anymore haha.

How many cats and dogs have you had as pets in your lifetime?  We’ve had one cat and two dogs.

Can your mom and/or dad play any instruments, or how about anyone else in your family?  My dad can play the guitar; he just absolutely never shows it off, not even if you lay out ten guitars in front of him. I think my mom played the piano as a kid.

Have you ever colored in an adult coloring book as a stress reliever?  Yeah, it was my coping mechanism from a few years ago. I don’t do it nearly as often anymore, but I still have my coloring books and pencils stored in my room just in case I randomly want to get back to the hobby.

Can you crack crab legs without a tool?  No, I ask my parents or grandparents to do it haha.

How many light sources are in the room you’re in?  There are two, but I only use one. I never switch on my main bedroom light as I hate how brightly white it is.

What’s your favorite thing to put on bagels?  I never get bagels so I don’t really have a clue what I prefer on them.

Who’s your favorite director?  Stanley Kubrick.

Bats: cute or gross?  Neither side of the spectrum; I just don’t think about bats.

What was the last really intense pain you felt?  I got a particularly vicious scratch from Cooper around a month ago that left a deep cut on my thigh. The scar is still visible and I think it’s going to remain that way for a while haha I don’t see it fading out anytime soon.

Would you rather vacation by a beach or a lake?  Both sound extremely pleasant but I’ll take the lake trip because I’ve never seen one, or stayed near one.

How would you feel about traveling abroad alone?  I honestly feel like it’s going to be that way for me moving forward. I’m okay with it, though. I feel like it would be very calming and empowering to be able to explore the world on my own.

What is your father's middle name?  He doesn’t have a second name.

Where did your last kiss take place?  Outside my house, by her car.

Which movie villain do you find the most terrifying?  I haven’t encountered anyone yet that truly terrified me.

If you married your favorite celebrity what would your last name be?  Kim, hahaha.

Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures?  I wouldn’t say so. I pull up the peace sign most often.

Which one of your family members are you closest to?  My sister and my eldest cousin on my mom’s side.

Would you rather have name brand shoes or name brand clothes?  Shoes. They stand out more.

Are you a good liar?  Yes. Doesn’t mean I enjoy lying and take advantage of that skill as much as possible.

Are you proud of your parents?  Sure.

If you could get backstage tickets to ANY concert - which would you pick?  Paramore. I think Hozier would be neat as fuck too.

Which is better: orange or grape soda?  I don’t like soda, so neither.

Was the last thing you ate hot or cold?  They are meant to be consumed while hot.

Who was the last person in your house who isn’t family?  Angela and Hans.

What color was the last swimsuit you wore? Pink.

Can you remember the last song you listened to?  I just tuned into a random lo-fi playlist, so I’m not familiar with the tracks and the artists who made them.

Have you ever been dumped really harshly?  Yes.

Can you do a back flip, or anything else of that sort?  Nope.

Do you have any exes you can’t stand anymore?  To a considerable extent.

What happened to cause you to feel that way about them?  She is extremely selfish and the biggest coward I’ve ever met.

Are you more of a phone or a computer person?  Laptop.

Do you have a job, and if so, where do you work?  Yeah, I work at a PR firm.

If not, do you want one?   

Do any medical afflictions run in your family? I know hypertension is kind of a thing on my mom’s side, but I don’t know if there are any other conditions I should know about. 

What’s your favorite Mexican dish?  Burritos and enchiladas.

Have you ever been to a professional sports game?  No, just collegiate-league ones.

Do you prefer pads, tampons or something else?  I use pads. I’ve never used a tampon or any other product, so there’s no basis for me to make a comparison and establish preferences.

Have you ever ordered a specially made cake from a cake shop? Yeppp, I got a customized cake for my birthday.

What months were you and your siblings born in?  My brother and I were born in April; my sister was born in September.

What did you have for dinner last night?  Barbecue chicken.

Have you ever had sex in/on a vehicle?  In, yes. Do people have sex ON cars??????

Do you do anything to groom your eyebrows?  I will shave extremely occasionally. Otherwise no, I don’t touch them.

Has your town ever flooded?  This time of the year, always.

Have you ever played at the McDonald’s play place?  Yup. I preferred Burger King’s playplace, though; it was lesser-known so there were fewer kids I was forced to play with.

Have you ever taken a picture of snow?  I’ve never even seen it.

Do you cry easily?  I can.

Are you happy with where you live?  It’s quiet and safe, which is nice; but I think at this point I would be a lot happier and would be able to grow a lot if I moved to a big city.

Do people ever mistake you for being a different race?  Not really; but as a general thought, it is an extremly big pet peeve when people only take into account East Asians when the topic of Asia comes up.

Do you hate the last person you kissed?  I don’t hate her. But I can’t stand her.

What genre is your favorite movie?  Drama, romance, a hint of comedy.

Who was the last person you were in a car with?  My mom and my siblings.

Do you like the picture on your license/I.D. card?  Yeah haha. I was allowed to smile on my license, so at least my photo doesn’t look gloomy.

When was the last time somebody hit on you?  Hasn’t happened in a while.

Was the last person you met a male or female?  For the first time? She’s a girl.

What brand is your underwear?  I don’t remember the name anymore.

What’s your favorite Thanksgiving food?  I don’t celebrate that.

Do you have a TV in your room?  Nah. I don’t really watch the TV anymore, and using the living room TV to watch YouTube videos is enough for me.

Are any of your electronics charging right now?  My laptop is constantly plugged in. My speaker is also charging at the moment.

What was the last video game you played?  I have no clue, it’s been forever.

What’s the biggest promise someone’s ever made to you? Did they keep it?  That they’ll always stay. I didn’t make her keep it; I was the one who moved on.

Google, Bing, or Yahoo?  Google.

What was the last song you had on repeat?  It’s been a while since I set a song on repeat. Maybe Film Out? If not that, maybe UGH!

Who is your favorite person to watch on YouTube?  Rhett and Link or the Try Guys.

How many college degrees do you want?  I’m okay with the one I have.

Can you wink?  Yeah, but I’m substantially better at winking with my right eye than my left.

Do you own any jerseys?  I don’t think so.

Have you ever tried to snort Pixie Stix as a child, or even an adult?  No. I don’t even think I’ve had it ever.

Do you like going to baby showers? Do you go only for the cake?  I’ve never been to a baby shower. Not a thing here.

Has there ever been a time in your life, you felt sexually undecided?  I still am. I’m not bothered about it, though. Sex and who I have it with aren’t things I spend much time thinking about.

Do you think tattoos and piercings are sexy on the opposite sex?  Depends. It certainly suits some people better.

Do people ever ask you to do things they’re too short to accomplish?  No...I am the short person asking for help :)))))))

What color are the headphones you have at this moment in time?  I have black ones but I literally just took them off five minutes ago so I can transfer my music to the speaker I mentioned earlier.

Ever choked severely on something during lunch at your school?  I don’t think so.

Do you eat more vegetables or fruits? What’s your favorite fruit/veggie?  VEGETABLES. I love green beans, eggplants, and bell peppers the most. I can’t stand fruits, with the one exception of avocados.

What would you say is the color of your favorite bra?  Black.

Is anyone in your family a firefighter? Who is it anyway?  I don’t think so. 

What do you usually buy when you go to the dollar store?  We don’t have a dollar store, and that should be self-explanatory hah.

Ever peed in the pool? Be honest!  God no. That’s gross.

When you’re older, what kind of house do you want to live in?  Something modern and minimalist.

Where do you want to get married?  Idk, I’m pretty traditional when it comes to this. Booking an events place would be ideal for me; the only thing on my wishlist would probably be the fact that I hope my wedding could be held somewhere cold, like Baguio.

Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding?  Uh yeah, sure.

What is your favorite childhood TV show? Spongebob.

Honestly, do you like school?  I liked it when I was granted more freedom to do things my own way, which is to say I really enjoyed college. But I didn’t mind school for the most part, especially since it meant being able to see my friends everyday.

Last thing that made you cry?  I was listening to a song that resonated a lot with me at that moment.

Honestly, are you keeping a big secret right now?  Nothing too big or life-changing to someone if they ever found out.

Last person you took a walk with?  Idk, that’s not an activity I tend to do with other people.

Have you ever liked someone who didn’t like you back? No.

Who was the last person to actually pick you up in the air?  My ex, probably.

Does any part of your body hurt?  My shoulders are constantly hurting these days. I really need to buy a new work chair :( 

If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to change a regret what would you do?  Million bucks. Easiest choice.

Can you keep a secret?  Sure.

Your favorite romantic movie?  The Proposal.

How do you feel about Valentine’s Day? I honestly like it, and I celebrated it when I was able to.

Who was the last person you took a picture with?  My sister and I took a silly selfie earlier.

Do your jeans have rips, tears, and holes in them?  Some of the pairs I have do, but they’re meant to be ripped jeans.

Do you celebrate 420? Nope.

Have you ever kicked a vending machine?  I don’t think so. I barely use them.

How do you eat Oreos?  I just bite into them. No patience do the whole twist-lick thing. Sometimes I’ll dip them in milk, if we happen to have some.

Do you wear your shoes in the house?  That is a big no-no.

Would you survive in prison?  I might not.

Ever been to Georgia?  No for both state and country.

Do you get your hair cut every month?  No, just once a year. Which reminds me, I finalllllllly had my hair trimmed yesterday hahaha I got sick of my long-ass hair, which was starting to feel like a bitch to maintain. It’s only up to my shoulders now.

Current relationship in detail.  I am single...nothing much to share about it. I get to enjoy to spend my money on myself, which is my favorite part about it hahaha.

If you were kicked out of your house, who would you call/go to?  My grandma.

List things you spend money on in an average week.  Food delivery and nearly every week, merch. I’ve considerably calmed down on the latter, though.

Rate each of your sexual partners (if any) from 1-10.  I’ve only had one...I guess I’d give her a 9. A bit TMI but the oral could’ve been a little better.

Post the last FB group/page that you joined.  I was looking for FB groups for a work deliverable, but I had to join one of them to give it a better scan. I don’t remember which group it had been, though.

Would you parents be mad if you were in a relationship?  No. If they did, I would be very surprised they would still be meddling with a 23 year old’s life.

Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you?  I’m sure.

Is there someone that you believe you will always be attached to?  I’m not now, so no.

What board games are you good at?  I’m quite terrible at all of them, tbh. It’s why I’ve always preferred to simply watch over my friends when they do play board or card games.

Is there a sport/hobby you keep thinking about taking up, but that you’ve never quite gotten around to starting?  Wakeboarding. Do you think pranks like egging/toilet-papering someone's house are funny or immature?  Immature.

Do you think “sleeve tattoos” are a good idea?  I’m not totally obsessed with the idea, but they do look good on people.

Is there anything in particular that your parents argue about? What? I don’t know. 100% of the time they are caused by my grown-ass mother throwing a petty-ass tantrum, so I could not care less about the things they fight about. 

Do you ever actually read the “Terms and Services” when you sign up for websites and such?  Nah.

If you have a handheld games console (a DS or GameBoy, for example), how often do you use it?  I haven’t used the Switch since last year.

Your phone is ringing. It’s the person you fell hardest for, what do you say?  Pick it up and wait for them to talk.

If your best friend was kicked out, would your parents let him/her live with you?  Probably not, knowing my mom – but I would do absolutely anything else to help.

Are you afraid of falling in love?  I guess you can say that, yeah. I’m not headed towards that feeling again anytime soon, though.

Is there anybody you wish you could be with right now?  I wish I was with my friends now.

Have you ever kissed someone & wished you didn’t?  No.

Did you get kissed last night?  Nope.

Do you enjoy going through a carwash?  Idk, I’ve never taken my car to one. That’s something my parents take charge of.

How did you get most of your scars?  Cooper.

Ever had to take an inkblot test? I haven’t.

Have you ever been in trouble for something you honestly didn’t do?  Sure. Like back in high school when a group of friends had been caught cheating on our chemistry exam – and we were told that the entire batch would be given a formal warning. I was on the minority side that found the entire situation hilarious, because I know they wouldn’t dare mar the records of everyone else who took that stupid test honestly.

Have you ever seriously slapped someone in anger?  My brother, only because he put his hands on me first.

What/who woke you up this morning?  Just me.

Who was the last person to be in your bedroom besides you?  My mom, who always goes in there without knocking/warning.

What’s one of your locked text messages?  I don’t lock my texts and I’m not sure if that’s an available feature on my phone.

Have you ever finished a game of Monopoly?  I don’t even know how that game works lol.

Is there anyone you know who’s in any way paralyzed?  Yes.

The truth all comes out when someone is drunk, true?  I mean for the most part, yeah. It’s easier to be honest with a few drinks in you. 

When was the last time you felt disappointed in yourself?  Continued from the other day. Last week when I forgot about a virtual meeting and attended it 15 minutes after it started.

How about feeling disappointed in someone else?  Last Friday when I had to watch my dad treat a service crew member like shit.

For you, do you commonly feel more jealousy or envy?  Envy, I think. I don’t really feel jealous.

Do you rely on the heads/tails flipping of a coin sometimes for decisions?  Nope, but close. I’ll do eenie-meenie sometimes haha

Do you have any specific chores you do around the house?  Nothing I’m required to do but sometimes I’ll offer to wash the dishes or fold laundry.

For you, does comfort or fashion come first in dressing?  It’s like 70% fashion, 30% comfort. Looking nice makes me feel more comfortable lol.

Have you had two friends that absolutely hated each other?  Not each other; the dislike was one-sided. Gabie hated Andi for whatever reason, which in hindsight already should’ve been a red flag.

Do you like Laffy Taffy?  No, I’ve never had one.

Do you prefer electric or manual pencil sharpeners?  Manual, only because I’ve never seen, much less use, an electric one.

Are your biceps at all noticeable?  Nah.

Have you ever seen a walrus?  It’s possible, but I don’t have very good memories of it if I have seen one.

Did you ever have one of those Easy Bake ovens as a kid?  Not a popular toy here.

Does your bathroom have a theme to it?  It doesn’t. I think that would be a little tacky tbh.

From inside of your house, how many doors lead outside?  Three. We have doors in the kitchen, dining room, and our main door by the living room.

Are there a lot of trees in your yard?  Not really.

Have you ever liked someone that treated you like crap?  Yes.

Have a best friend?  Yup.

Does it bother you when your best friend does stuff without you?  No? That’s pretty petty. Both Angela and Andi have big circles of friends and that would be stressful on my end if I made a fuss every time they hung out with anyone that isn’t me lol.

Is there a secret you’ve never told your parents?  A bunch. I don’t count them as confidantes.

Does anyone hate you? It’s possible but I don’t care enough to want to know.

What’s the one thing you regret more than anything?  Not breaking up with Gabie earlier, even though all the red flags were there.

Do you remember important dates?  For the most part, yeah.

What’s some lyrics from a song that means a lot to you?  “Dream, may all of creation be with you til the end of your life Dream, wherever you are, will welcome you Dream, may your trials end in full bloom Dream, though your beginnings might be humble, may the end be prosperous.”

Who gives the best advice?  Andi. They’re able to tell me advice I don’t want to hear but am supposed to be hearing, which I appreciate.

Who do you usually see in your dreams? :)  It’s a random cast every time.

What type of cake did you last eat?  It was carrot cake with a really good cream cheese frosting.

How many of your friends are gay or bisexual?  Almost all of them are...it’s easier to count friends who are straight.

What’s your favorite type of sandwich?  Anything with pulled pork in it tbh.

When was the last time someone asked you out? Did you accept or decline?  I’ve never been asked out.

Do you like The Offspring?  I know a couple of songs but I definitely can’t call myself a fan.

One pillow or two?  Two.

Do you like Mad Libs?  I’ve never tried playing it.

Are you suicidal?  Not lately. I haven’t been for a while, actually. I’m really happy about that.

Where do your grandparents live?  My paternal grandparents live in the south. My maternal grandma lives in the village right next to ours haha, so not far away at all.

Do you cut yourself?  Yeesh. Can’t questions like this come with a trigger warning? Anyway, no I haven’t in a while as well.

What is your pet’s name?  Kimi and Cooper.

Have you ever been to Canada? No, but I'd love to visit. < Same!

Aren’t babies overrated?  I think they are overrated in a sense that everyone always seems to want one of their own, but the circle gets extremely smaller when it comes to those who actually have the capacity to take proper care of an infant.

Have a built-in pool in your backyard?  No.

Ever won yourself a stuffed animal? Sure, in like claw games and whatnot.

Ever had someone else win you a stuffed animal?  No. I don’t really like stuffed toys lol.

Ever been to a circus?  Nope.

Ever shot animals? I have not.

Do you consider yourself intelligent?  I guess I’m booksmart more than anything else. I had good grades and can handle myself in arguments and debates...but I have my weaknesses in other aspects too, like street smarts lol.

Have you ever run away from home?  I had a period when I wanted to, but never pushed through with it.

Do you put family first, friends, relationships, school, or something else?  Work > friends > family.

What’s something you’ve stood up for in the past?  I always shoot my mom a glare as if to say “be careful of the line you’re crossing” whenever she makes a homophobic, sexist, or racist remark.

What’s something you worked extremely hard to get?  The healthy and stable mental disposition I find myself in these days. I would never give it up for anything ever again.

Are you satisfied with your body image?  I mean not fully, but I also don’t have any complaints.

Have you ever been labeled negatively or otherwise been called something extremely derogatory?  I’ve been called a bitch by this girl that was just a terror to be classmates with back in middle school. She was known to a big war freak and had her fair share of behavioral/anger issues, so it didn’t really affect me once I knew I was her next target. I didn’t encounter her again until college when we ended up attending the same university, and she’s changed a lot for the better.

Have you ever seriously taken advantage of someone or been taken advantage of?  The former, no. Yes to the latter.

Have you ever been seriously ill?  My fever last year really felt like the end of me lmao, so I guess yeah. 

Have you ever befriended a former enemy?  She wasn’t an enemy per se, but I just found myself immensely irritated by Sofie during our first few meetings; but then she ended up being one of my best friends for a time

If you’re not religious, would you ever pray as a last resort? If you are religious, do you often pray for other people?  I did in the past. I wouldn’t do so these days.

Have you ever dated someone, then after you dated they came out of the closet or switched (for lack of a better word) sexual orientation?  That hasn’t happened to me.

Has a boy/girl ever walked a ridiculous distance just to see you? How about vice versa?  I think once? My ex was brewing a surprise for me for Valentine’s Day last year and to cut the long story short, she essentially walked a crazy long distance in my school to make the surprise a success. My university is huge and even I prefer to take my car whenever I have to go from one building to another, so I definitely saw the effort she had put in.

When was the last time you felt really uncomfortable?  Right now. It’s really humid and my electric fan isn’t really doing anything to curb the heat :/

Is there anything that your mom is really known for as to how she is as a person?  She is very uptight.

Who have you been talking to the most today?  My co-workers, albeit virtually.

Are you nosy?  Nah. I won’t really press and will wait for people to open up.

What’s the meanest thing you have done to a friend?  I don’t do mean things to my friends.

If your ex called you crying, what would it most likely be about?  Fuck if I know. Her pride is way up in the sky for her to do something like this.

Who was the best kisser out of all the people you have kissed?  I’ve only kissed one person.

Have you ever been told that you have an annoying laugh?  I don’t think so. It would be etched in my head if I was ever told this.

[justamusicpodcast]

Sup, I’m Laura Cousineau and welcome to Just A Music Podcast, where I, Laura Cousineau, tell you about some music history, how it relates to the world around us, and hopefully, introduce you to some new tunes. This show is theoretically for everyone but I will swear and when it comes down to it and sometimes we may need to talk about some sensitive topics so ur weeuns might wanna sit this one out.

Folk music! What a fucking blanket of a genre title isn’t it? We got 1960s folk in america, we got different folk genres in terms of mixed genres like folk metal, we got folk music as sort of an interchangeable term for ethnic musics, it’s all fuckin folk from here on out folks! But what is folk music where does it come from, what are we talking about when we talk about folk music? Well that’s what we’re going to talk about this week to kick off our North American music genre analysis with North American folk musics! Truth be told I did wanna start out with an episode on North American Native musics but as I’m whiter than sour cream on rice and there isn’t as much scholarship on it as I would like to confidently do a whole episode on it without input from actual native peoples. That all being said, if anyone listening is native and would like to give me some input on their musics, I would be more than happy to cover it.

But for now folk. North American folk musics. You notice I mention musics, it’s because north American folk music can be defined as a lot of things. So what are we talking about when we talk about the genre of folk musics. Well that’s gonna change depending on who you ask from what I explained before, we have some kind of mish mosh, multiple definition, popular idea of what folk music is and that’s not surprising given how that definition has grown and changed over time. Some of you will be surprised to hear that when we talk about north American folk music’s we’re actually talking about A BUNCH of different musical genres, not just one. Sure we have what people would usually associate with North American folk, the very Appalachian sounding bluegrass, country and then of course western, but we also have native musics (which again, I promise I will talk about at some point), and Maritime Canadian folk musics, we have cajun and creole musics, we have a bunch of racist shit too unfortunately but like legit we have so much stuff to talk about this episode I might have to break it up into two episodes.

Like all other musics, it all started from somewhere… I know, that’s the take of the century isn’t it. I mean it would be so much cooler if all folk music started cause some little gnome hopped out of the ground and was like imma invent music, but like that gnome would also be incredibly racist so I dunno, gnome theory sucks. So where did North American folk music come from? Well that’s a matter of looking at the mostly euro populations that colonized North America and this will change depending on the regions that we’re looking at. So WE need a SHORT HISTORY of the beginning of exploration.  

So, there’s some debate as to who we should credit with the “discovery” of north america, cause on one hand we have the Viking settlements in eastern Canada in the year 1000,  there’s some speculation that there were even other visitors before then, and of course we have the populations of native people’s who have lived here for forever, but in terms of the European colonial pattern we’re looking for, for our needs we’re looking at Christopher Columbus. So as y’all know Christopher Columbus, Portuguese adventurer, getting permission from Queen Isabella of Castille in 1492 set sail across the Atlantic to try and find a passage to India to get some of them good ass spices everyone was raving about. Though he didn’t find India he managed to find the Caribbean also known as Central America. Now I know in the news for a little bit with the ever increasing prevalence of the Black Lives Matter movement y’all been hearing about people tearing down Christopher Columbus statues in the news and there is a very good reason for that.

So as I’ve already told you Chris didn’t discover North america but he also was, and this is gonna be a massive understatement, but the dude was a massive asshole, like take the biggest asshole you can imagine and times that by about 10. It’s estimated that his colonization of the Caribbean resulted in the deaths of over 8 million people, or or about the entire population of Switzerland. You can’t even use the product of his time excuse because even Queen Isabella, the person in charge of the Spanish Inquisition, which famously saw hte torture and death of tonnes of people under the guise of religious purity, was even like yo dude you need to slow down. I will talk about him more once we reach central American music genres but just for now yeah he existed, yeah he kinda started the wave of north American exploration, but he was also an absolute asshat and there should never have been a statue let alone a day to commemorate the shitheel of a man.

So we get the start of this wave of immigration into what will become northern South america, Central America, and southern north America by Portuguese populations who mainly speak, well, Portuguese, bringing music from the Iberian peninsula. But we’re more concerned with what’s happening up north and for that we’re gonna have to look at later waves of immigration that started with Roanoake starting in the 1520s.

So the start of British colonization started with Roanoake and Newfoundland (which, yes, for our non canadian listeners it’s pronounced newfinland not new found land like the name would suggest, which to be fair would also be cool, I’ll welcome the Fins in my land anytime, they do fantastic music). One of these settlements was infinitely more successful than the other with Newfoundland becoming what we know now to be the east most province of Canada and while Roanoake is still there it failed so hard that a population of 112 people disappeared without a trace. Like legit we still don’t know what precisely happened to them. Some assume they integrated into the local native populations, some assume they were all murdered, some assume cannibals, essentially it was a bad time for all involved.

What this means for newfoundland though and other English colonies is that musically we hear a very British folk song base to the music that’s being established here, with newfoundland being very much established as a fishing colony the musical style echoes that. Since we’re talking about the Kingdom of England more broadly this meant that there was an absolute tonne of Irish and Scottish influence to the music. This is why when you listen to the folk musics of Newfoundland (established in 1583), Virginia (established in 1607), and Parts of the Carolinas (established in 1712), you hear it sounds very similar to that of their colonial forefathers. This means that there was commonly a lot of fiddle, flute, English guitar, a string instrument with a long handle, rounded body and ten strings that was a version of a Renaissance cittern, simple stringed banjos; zithers, which were flat, shallow boxes with strings running the length of the body that were plucked by the fingers and and hammered dulcimers, various shaped (like trapezoidal and peanut shaped) sound boxes with strings across them that were hit with small hammers, Much like this!

So we have all these people coming into the area, and with that too you’re also going to get jigs and reels too. Jigs and reels are both types of dance music widely enjoyed across the British Isles but are most associated with Scottish and Irish dancing musics. The difference between the two is mostly the time signature as the instruments used to play both of them are roughly the same, that being said Scottish musics tend to have more pipes and irish does traditionally use a type of handdrum which are both excellent. Jigs are in compound duple time meaning that there are 12 8th notes in a bar of music and reels are played in simple time like 2/2 (two half notes per bar) or 4/4 (4 quarter notes in a bar). They sound like this.

Its important to note here too that when we talk about all of these peoples from the British Isles that we don’t unintentionally assume that they were all nice and cozy with one another. Many of the Scottish and Irish parties, often referred to simply as the scotch irish or scotts irish came to america as a form of Religious punishmen because they didn’t precisely fit in with the church of England, some of my ancestors were scotts-irish and came to what would eventually become America because they were Quakers.

It is from these traditions that the music then evolves into something different over time and actually we’re gonna take a quick detour into linguistics for a second because it will be particularly helpful in demonstrating my point and y’all will be able to hear something way cool. So for those who are not aware, linguistics is the study of, well, language. (big brain moment right?) But what does that mean? Whereas when you take English, Igbo, Japanese, Arabic, or any other established language in an academic setting (so like learning in school when you’re growing up) the emphasis is on spelling, grammar, how to write and speak your language in the way that it has been determined is the best way to speak it (which isn’t always ACTUALLY the best way to speak it but we’ll get into that in a second.) Linguistics is the study of pretty much every other component of the language. So linguists study the phonemes or the sounds that comprise the word and how they change based on the dialect that a person is speaking (a dialect being a regional difference of a language such as how someone from Scotland speaks English and how I as a Canadian speak English), they study how languages become standard languages and why (spoiler alert there’s a lot of elitism involved), they study meaning and why we put certain words in the order that we do (for Example in English we put adjectives (or the words that describe things) in very specific order being quantity, quality, size, age shape, color, proper adjective and purpose or qualifier so describing a thing could be a shitty old triangular purple metal pair of shoes, but if you were like the triangular purples old shitty pair of shoes you would lose your gourd.)

But why does linguistics matter? Well language actually acts a lot like music in the ways that it travels and changes over time which makes sense doesn’t it? When a people move around and interact with other cultures or are even just are separated from a larger group, over time their language will change! One change that is easy for us to see in our life-time is in word usage, for example, you use different phrases and slang that your parents and your grandparents didn’t use. The same goes for accents this means that your accent is going to be different than your parents and their parents. In some cases this will smooth it out or ramp it up, it will accentuate features, or drop features entirely. And actually this is where I’m going to give you over to a linguist to better explain this because where I do know about some linguistic shift they will definitely explain it better.

Why this is important is BECAUSE music functions similarly in terms of drift. Though musical drift doesn’t happen as FAST as language because language you use everyday with incredibly intensity and music you do not, it does still happen. Even more helpful in the tracing of language is how and where it moves over time. Because language is contingent on people speaking it and music is also contingent on those who play it, you can track how music and language changes and who it interacts with based on the stylistic attributes and or instruments that it acquires over time. If we wanna think about this in a real practical sense come with me into the theater of ur brainhole for a second. Imagine for a second there is a group of people who live in lets say India in like the 500s C.E for some reason or another they’re pushed out of India and into the west where they met like Turks and hung out with them for a couple hundred years. So they pick up some Turkish words, incorporate some of their musical elements and then move farther west. Then they meet the Greeks! The Greeks are pretty rad, they got some good shit going for them, so they stay for another couple hundred years! Again, they pick up some Greek words, some Greek musical elements. After that let’s say some of the people from this group were captured and held as indentured workers in a country forcing them to integrate into the culture of the majority but another portion of the population was fortunate enough to be able to get away and keep moving west into the Balkans where they also picked up a bunch of words and musical elements. You see where I’m going with this? Cultures are all contingent on how often or how little they come in contact with other cultures, this goes for music, this goes for language, hell this pretty much goes for all sorts of art. For the sake of our example I used the Roma who also just serve as a crazy good example for this because we didn’t really even know their history until one scholar was “like hey they got some Indian words in here” and launched a whole study into it which is rad as hell but we’re gonna save that for another episode. BUT YES CULTURE IS CONTINGENT ON THE INTERACTION OR LACK OF INTERACTION WITH OTHER CULTURES, THIS IS A THING AND WE’RE GONNA BE TALKING ABOUT IT A LOT.

SO we were with settlers from the British Isles and they came to north america and then their music changed!

In Canada and Louisianna we also have the addition of the French colonies which make our music a little different. In Canada those colonies would be Acadia in what is now the province of Nova Scotia (established in 1604), Montreal (established in 1642), Quebec (established in 1608), and Trois Riviers (established in 1634)  along the Saint Lawrence River with the voyageurs or courier de bois who were fur traders dealing primarily in beaver. In the southern US it’s the colony of Louisianna in the states which is much larger than what is currently the state of Louisianna. All of these colonies together formed one mega colony commonly referred to as New France. Differences between the musics performed by French colonists vs. English colonists was, well first of all the language, obviously French colonists sang more often in French, due to them being… French. But there were also differences in content too. In Canada especially many settlements were originally set up with the intention of converting native populations to Christianity which is a form of cultural genocide by the way. Thus, Jesuit populations often brough a lot of religious music into the area. Sometimes it would be mixed with musical and cultural traditions of the native populations but often it would just be very Christian. An example from the area I grew up in would be the Huron carol which blends native cultural heritage from the area with Christianity. It sounds something like this.

As French populations began intermarrying into native populations this became a more common sonic combination to hear. In Canada we also have a larger amount of music based on or around or deriving from sea shanties due to the fishing populations that settles in East originally as fishing colonies. As I plan to do a whole episode on sea shanties one day I don’t want to go too much into them but quickly speaking sea shanties tend to be broken down into categories based on the task they were performed around. So there were three principal types of shanties: short-haul shanties, which were simple songs sung for short tasks where only a little work was needed, halyard shanties, for jobs such as hoisting sail, in which a certain rhythm was required to signal when it was time to exert effort and when it was time to rest (often referred to as a pull and relax rhythm), and windlass shanties, which synchronized footsteps. I find them incredibly infectious, which is probably intentional because they’re meant to kinda keep spirits up as well as set a pace for work, but I’ll try and sell ya more on that when the time comes. In the meantime you can content yourself with singing drunken sailor to yourself, probably one of the most well known shanties.

French Canadian music also has some very fun additions to it that come from the body itself, like ur own dang body. The first one is a singing technique but also song style. It’s technically a form of non-lexical vocable which is a fancy way of saying “sounds that comes from ur mouth in music that aren’t necessarily words.” In fact sometimes it’s also just referred to as French Canadian mouth music. This specific one I’m talking about kinda, lord how do you describe this, it’s like a scatting but much slower, less bombastic, and more rhythmic. I’m gonna fuck up the pronunciation because, again, even though I have a French Canadian background and had to take it from grade 4 to grade 9 in school I remember it about as well as one might remember an event they’ve never been to, that is to say not at all. The form is called a turlutte (ter-lute) which uses a lot of D, T, and M sounds to kinda fit the sound that ur looking for in a song. It sounds something like this!

French Canadian music also has the real fun addition of podorythmie or foot rhythms which are complex rhythms that people keep with their feet. For those who don’t know what a rhythm is, it is defined as a strong, regular, repeated pattern sound so lets say that you start clapping, and each clap is spaced exactly by one second, now on the first and third claps you clap a little harder, that would be a rhythm. Rhythms can be incredibly simple like that one or they can be really complex and the ones that you will hear in French Canadian music are of the more complex variety. Usually if the person performing them is also playing an instrument they’ll often sit in a chair with a little wood box or hard surface underneath which they will use to tap their feet on. Sometimes they will wear special hard bottomed shoes made with leather or wood to do this in order to accentuate the sound. Less commonly people can also stand while performing a podorythmie turning it into a kind of dance. Here’s my favorite example of what that sounds like.

Some of this style was eventually transported to Louisianna when the Acadians were eventually pushed out of Canada by the English in 1755, many of them ended up actually settling in Louisiana forming the ethnically Cajun population, Cajun deriving from the word Acadian. Not to say that life wasn’t hard for damn near everybody who wasn’t nobility in the 1700s, but the dramatic shift for Acadians made it particularly hard for a long time. People had trouble adjusting to their new way of life at first, coming from a mostly trading based economy to agrarian based was hard on the population, not to mention the massive change in climate that came with moving all the way from what would now be modern nova scotia all the way down to Louisiana. To give a real succinct idea of where exactly they were moving imma quote Loyola university in New Orleans that have done a really good succinct history on the Cajuns of Louisianna ”Few Acadians stayed in the port of arrival, New Orleans. Some settled in the regions south and northwest of New Orleans and along the Teche, Lafourche and Vermilion Bayous. Far more went further west to the marshes and prairies of south central Louisiana. They became hunters and trappers and farmers. It is a popular misconception that most Cajuns live on the bayous and in the marshes, poling their pirogues and hunting alligators. Far more became farmers in the grand triangular prairie that stretches from Lafayette north to Ville Platte and west to Lake Charles.” Like shit man, my giant canadian ass if forced to live in Louisiana would probably catch fire as soon as I got there let alone back then with no air conditioning and what have you. Their music also then changed to reflect their new way of life, not that the music was about catching fire in a corn field (although that would fucking slap), music was written and sung about hard times and hard livin’.

From the same Loyola University document: The music these people brought was simple. It was made by singing, humming, and rhythmic clapping and stamping. Instruments were brought to the colony, with a violinist's death recorded in 1782. Early instrumental music was played primarily on violins, singularily or in pairs. One violin played lead and the second a backing rhythm. A simple rhythm instrument was created out of bent metal bars from hay or rice rakes: the triangle or 'tit fer, meaning little iron. Musicians wrote original songs telling of their life in the new world. The song J'ai passe devant ta porte tells of the suddenness of death from accident and disease. The singer tells of passing by his beloved's door and hearing no answer to his call. Going inside he sees the candles burning around his love's corpse.

In the south they would have been influenced by other settlers in the area, more scotts and irish of course but also eventually African descended peoples. Some were brought as slaves during the French and Spanish colonial period or brought in by settlers after the Louisiana Purchase. Under Spanish rule, slaves were allowed to buy their freedom (which I cannot emphasize entirely how fucking difficult that would have been), leading to an early population of free Blacks in southern Louisiana. People of African descent also came from the Caribbean, including the colonized French-speaking islands. During the revolution in Haiti between 1789 and 1791, French-speaking Haitians who fled the violence often chose the Louisiana coast as a destination due to having a familiar linguistic population and ease of access. These populations would become to be known as creole. The term Creole comes originally from the Spanish criollo, for a child born of Spanish parents in the New World. The French borrowed it as Creole. Creole could refer to anyone of European parentage born in Louisiana. Over two centuries it began to be used to mean a person of mixed foreign and local parentage. One use today is to refer to someone entirely or partly of African descent.

Now, it’s incredibly important that we don’t discount the influence of slaves and former slaves in the creation and dissemination of creole musics because they are absolutely integral to the process. Creole songs originated in the French and Spanish slave plantations in Louisianna and thus contain tonnes of African musical elements from the instruments they used to the syncopated rhythms. For example, original instruments you would have heard could have been percussion instruments made out of gourds, known as shak-shak which would be shaken to create a rhythm, the mouth harp, a type of metal instrument that one holds in place in the mouth and plucks with their finger opening and closing their mouth hole to create different pitches and textures of sound, the bamboula, tambou, or tombou lay lay which are types of drums; and as I mentioned before, a type of banjo known as a banza might have been played if someone could fashion one. Because that in essence is what we’re talking about, when we talk about Creole music we’re talking about music slaves could make with the limited resources that were available to them, in order to make the music they wanted to hear. This is why overtime we also see the addition of the washboard as an instrument because it was something that would have been available to them. A washboard for those who don’t know is most literally a board, usually made out of ridged wood or metal that one would put into a source of water, either a basin or a river, and methodically rub the dirt and stains out of your dirty clothes as well as you could with soap if you could access it, believe me it’s about as fun as it sounds.

So what was this music they were playing? What did it sounds like? Well as I already mentioned there was a lot of African influence to the music. One of the most prominent features of this influence is the syncopated rhythm. A syncopated rhythm is a rhythm that is built so that the strong beats eventually become the weak beats. So if we continue our example from before, where we clap harder on the first beat and third beat, a syncopated rhythm would move to become the opposite of it on the 2nd and 4th beats or the off beats, like this. Don’t be worried if that’s something you can’t do yourself, I still find it hard to switch between.

As no type of culture exists independently of time or location though, the type of music they played was also influenced by the culture of their oppressors. While there was music that existed independently that slaves brought from their Native African groups such as the Bamboula, Calinda, Congo, Carabine and Juba, over time, a lot of their music also began to incorporate French and Spanish influence. A type of French dance called a quadrille for example was worked into the repertoire, a Spanish dance called the contradanza or the habanera actually became some of the first written music to incorporate the aforementioned African rhythms. Even the language used in these musics grew and changed. For the slaves, and even free black folk coming from the Caribbean, they would bring with them what is now known as patois, a language that is a combination of English, French, Spanish, and African languages. So when we think of what creole music is, it really then is a patchwork of different cultures mainly driven and compounded by the efforts of African slaves.

Now I will say before I play this example here that it is difficult when looking for early musics belonging to oppressed peoples because 1. It wasn’t written down for the most part, at least not in the way it would have been originally performed, 2. Pieces that were written down, recorded, or coopted were often done by white people looking to profit off of African music (which we’ll see way too fucking much of as we continue our north American music excursion), which seems like a rather disingenuous way to present it to you, and 3. Because music recording as far as actually recording audio didn’t exist until 1860. So if we’re looking for songs from the periods that they were written or invented we still have to find people who are alive that remember them. Even as I was researching this I was trying to look for recordings that would make it easier to hear the differences between the dance genres I mentioned earlier. Unfortunately there isn’t much in the way of albums or popular bands dedicated to these types of genres, so instead I’m going to play a clip of a bamboula rhythm being played by some students at the Asheh Cultural Arts Center's Kuumba Institute in New Orleans, and then a clip of another group performing a Calinda.

From where we’re currently standing in the year 2020 there is still Creole and Cajun distinct musics but they also created a fusion genre which has become it’s own thing, this genre is called Zydeco. Zydeco developed out of both the Cajun and Creole though (hard core purists will insist that it is a mostly creole development) which then further changed when German Immigrants started moving into the area. The accordion, which was invented in Vienna about 1828, was brought to Louisiana by the German immigrants many of whom lived adjacent to or among the Cajuns. Though it arrived in Louisiana as early as 1884, it was not immediately incorporated into Cajun music. This is because where fiddles were tuned differently than the accordions coming into the country. What I mean by that is that some instruments have pitches they’re better at playing naturally. So for example, you’re standard run of the mill trumpet, like if u look up a trumpet on google, well they’re most suited to play in the key of B flat because the sound that you get when you blow into one without putting any of your fingers on the buttons is B flat. For the accordions that were coming with the Germans, they were tuned to the keys of A and F, so it wasn’t till much later in 1925 that accordions tuned to C and D started appearing and thus started to be better incorporated into the music around it. The guitar was also added pretty late coming in in around 1920ish. The word Zydeco itself is actually derived from the title of a French song Les haricots sont pas sale or The snap beans are not salty! You can hear in the French if you put a little punchiness into it, the transition between the les and haricot sounds like a Z (yes I’m a Canadian that says Zee, I blame it on my American mother, plus it just sounds better, zed sounds like a bee flew into a hard surface). So because of the Z sound it became abbreviated to zarico and through time morphed into Zydeco! We got BEAN music.

And how does this bean music sound, well I personally think it sounds pretty fucking rad, kinda like this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-kPztofSd5Y

fun fact about that one, I’ve known this song for roughly 5 years I knew it I definitely just thought these dudes were scattin, like WHOA BA BA WHOA BA BA WHA BA PA BYE BYE DOO DOO, I did not realize until roughly 2 years until after I heard it that it had lyrics…

Now you may have noticed I haven’t touched on Appalachian folk music yet and I’ve done it very strategically for 2 reasons. One is just simply because if I had put it any earlier yall would have been like HUEHUEHUE I HAVE HEARD ALL I NEED and then absconded into the night like a raccoon after finding half a cheeseburger in the trash. The second was because Appalachian folk music and next week’s episode are gonna be pretty instrumental in the episode after that, so to keep it popping freesh in ur brain bits I figured I’d stick it at the end of the episode.

So appalaichan music turns out is actually a really tricky genre of music, if we wanna go by the United States Library of Congress introduction to Appalaichan music: The term "Appalachian music" is in truth an artificial category, created and defined by a small group of scholars in the early twentieth century, but bearing only a limited relationship to the actual musical activity of people living in the Appalachian mountains. Since the region is not only geographically, but also ethnically and musically diverse (and has been since the early days of European settlement there), music of the Appalachian mountains is as difficult to define as is American music in general. I should also probably say before we get too far that like the Appalachian mountains (which first of all that I pronounce incorrectly because it’s pronounces with a CHian not Shan) but the appalachian mountains are the mountain range that run through a lot of the eastern United States, so like Appalachian Mountains extend 1,500 miles (or 2414 km for everyone else) from Maine to Georgia. They pass through 18 states and encompass the Green Mountains of New Hampshire and Vermont, the Berkshires of Connecticut, New York's Catskills, the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, and the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. The region known as the Southern Highlands, or Upland South, covers most of West Virginia and parts of Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama, Maryland, the Carolinas, and Virginia. In colonial times, this area was known as the "Back Country."

It was in these areas that Cherokee and Algonquin people already existed but then colonists would come from England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales and eventually from other parts of Europe came the Germans, French Huguenots, Polish, and Czechians. So we’ve already looked at the influence from the British Isles before (the jigs and reels and English folk music) but these would evolve into Square dances with a little help from French influences as well. A square dance for those who don’t know is a dance usually with 8 sets of partners who perform steps that are either established and vary based on song or thencaller which then the dancers perform. But just as we saw with instruments and musics being carried by free or escaped slaves to different parts of the southern united states and being integrated into the musical cannon of the area, the same thing happened in this area by the other people settling here as well. For example, the hammered dulcimer I told y’all about earlier (which if you haven’t seen one I would recommend lookin one up they can come in really fun shapes, ) but yeah those same hammered dulcimers were not an invention of the British isles carried over by those settlers but it is almost a direct descendant of a German instrument (the Germans btw came in a couple different waves the first big one being in 1670) so this instrument they brought was called the Scheitholt. Even African American instruments entered the scene in around the 1840s just in time for minstrel shows to start travelling around the country which I will be doing an episode on by the way because you can’t talk about American music without talking about the fucking disaster that is minstrel shows. It was these same free black peoples that also really popularized the call and response type of vocals which is pretty much just what it sounds like. The main singer will call out a line of lyrics sometimes as a holler, sometimes more musically, and other singers will answer it by doing it right back at them. This can be found in all sorts of music but just for the kicks of it here’s an example of it in gospel music.

But we’re gonna back track a little bit back to the Germans because we really haven’t talked about them enough and have left out one of their biggest influences on developing Appalachian folk music which is yodelling. If you’re from the states you’ll probably know yodelling from that kid that got famous a couple years ago and was in a Walmart commercial or something but for those of you who don’t know or people who do know that kid and are just curious about the mechanics of yodelling: The main components of a human singing voice are the head voice and the chest voice which I CAN and will demonstrate but to explain first, the head voice and chest voice are the two registers humans typically have. There’s also falsetto which is slightly different as it is kinda a pushing of the voice to a place it isn’t really supposed to be but I digress. So the head voice is where we get all our higher notes where the chest voice is where we get all out low notes. This is mainly due to the resonators we are using in creating these sounds as well as how tense or thick or thin and how long or short your vocal chords are. Resonators are simply just the air passages and open spaces in your body that sound resonates through. So for head voice you’re pushing the sound up and into the head using like ur nasal passages and all ur skull space for the sound to vibrate through which are all really small so you get a higher often sharper sound and chest voice mainly resonates in the chest (or ur LUNGS) which is a lot more space and so more low and rumbly. You can tell the difference between the two by putting a hand on ur chest while you’re singing, start with your lowest note you can comfortably reach and just start ascending, eventually you will feel your chest vibrate less and less and should be able to feel the switch into head voice. I’ll just give you a quick demonstration as to how different they are. Please bear in mind I am a natural soprano so my low range isn’t incredibly low but here it goes so the head voice “as I don’t do remembering, can’t give this song a ghost of past, I wander, I ponder, why there is weight in time” and again the same line but in chest voice “as I don’t do remembering, can’t give this song a ghost of past, I wander, I ponder, why there is weight in time.”

So if you tried it yourself you’ll notice that there’s a little, what vocalists call, break between where ur chest register is and where ur head voice is, it happens for everyone don’t worry. What yodelling does then is fluctuates between the head and the chest voice really fast and most importantly smoothly like this:

ahh shit man, the sounds of my ancestors, you can almost smell the leiderhosen, taste the octoberfest, YOU CAN ALMOST SEE THE SCHUPLATTING. But yes so Germans brought this with them from their homelands along with their accordions and it established itself the Appalachian folk tradition. Now it’ll probably interest you to know that yodelling isn’t a genre without purpose, as I’d like to do a whole episode on it though at some point I don’t wanna spoil too much but it is good for communicating across mountain ranges because of how it echoes and the types of inflection you can put into it. This makes it easier to understand why it survived the shift from the mountains in Germany all the way to the mountains of America. The Germans also brought something else with them, but it wasn’t just Germans, the Polish, and Czechian influences also brought it with them too! And what is it that they brought? The waltz of course! The waltz is a type of dance that focusses on a ¾ time signature, and has one heavy beat on the front and two lighter beats after. For any of you who’ve ever seen the musical Oliver, this is precisely the type of song Oom Pah Pah is.

So these collections of music and the things they developed into can be called Appalachian folk musics. It’s hard to pin down precisely what Appalachian music then sounds like at times because of all the different influences depending on place that you were living in, if you had to pick out a few things though you would head that firstly you get a lot of stringed instruments like guitars, fiddles and banjos. Secondly  the themes were often similar and reflected day to day life living in the region such as mining or logging, there’s the fun little genre of murder ballads which I wanna do a whole episode on some day, and after the civil war we also get the addition of a lot of war songs. Thirdly this music would vary depending on purpose but would definitely include dances, campfire songs. So Imma play you a few samples then, first we just have a good old mountain song

if these sound familiar to other genres of music like bluegrass and country that’s because Appalachian folk music was the predecessor for both genres but those I’m gonna save for their own episode sometime in the future. It might be a part of the north American genre business it might be just another nebulous episode I do in the future at some point. But for now at least you know the history of some of the biggest Genres of American folk music. BUT WHAT ABOUT FOLK MUSIC TODAY, LAURA, WHAT ABOUT MUMFORD AND SONS, HOZIER, FUIMADANE, AND KORPIKLAAN? And I know, they’re ALL fantastic acts and I’ll get to people like them eventually, but for now at least you know where it all started.

So with that, hat’s all for just a music podcast this week, I hope you’ve heard something new, and I hope you’ve heard something that you like. If you haven’t there’s always next week where we’ll be getting heavy with slave and gospel music. In the meantime, though if one of y’all would like to suggest a topic I would love nothing more than to answer your musical question or talk about topics that interest you guys in music. Feel free to drop me a line at justamusicpodcast@gmail.com

Bye!

1.   Over the Hills and Far Away - 17th Century English Traditional - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0MR7VihPm2E

2.   Woodsong Wanderlust Solo Hammered Dulcimer by Joshua Messick https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayAvzVdOJJY&list=RDfD0rNyjDAa0&index=13

3.   Out on the Ocean https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ynKDggMtMww

4.   Rakish Paddy & Braes of Busby (Reels) Uilleann pipes Chris McMullan https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v0umOtiKyUc

5.   A Quick Lesson on Southern Linguistics https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNqY6ftqGq0

6.   Huron Carol https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DgPeEvUl06Y

7.   La Bolduc - Reel Turluté https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASW3Cejl5oc

8.   Le Lys Vert https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASW3Cejl5oc

9.   J'ai passe devant ta porte https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DtchvhughFw

10.New Orleans Kuumba camp https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItRuHjjGMhg

11. Calinda (Stickfight) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LaM0PI3T1s8

12. Bye, Bye Boozoo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-kPztofSd5Y

13. Call and Response in Gospel Music https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMgNTwZW5gY

14. Underthing Solstice https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=anMKMu9Tpoc

15. Yodelling Franzl Lang https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQhqikWnQCU

16. Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles – Ost – Maggie is Everything https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Fn1Pw-LxU8&

17. Ola Belle Reed High on the Mountain https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RsRRY5k5Psg

18. Traditional Tennessee Square Dance Caller Gerald Young of Pulaski https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7-DWvegcL8

[zankivich]

Comfort: Werewolf! Shawn x Black OC Witch! AU

a/n: idk why I titled this comfort other than the fact that this just felt so warm to me. In fact I think I use just the word warm like a 100 times in this fic. It just felt right. This is my first OC and I love her with all of my heart so please be kind to her. She’s a little angsty, but she means well I promise. This was so fucking fun to write. I hope you like it. Thank you. k bye. 

WARNINGS: Slur usage (n word), sloooooow burn, she’s girth at 19k words, 

If you want to buy me a ko-fi you can do so here:  I also apparently have a permanent tag list now so let me know if you want that. 

There are some perks to being the alpha in town. The general respect from everyone he came in contact with. The support of his pack, and the whole getting to live with his best friends thing. Even the responsibility of protecting the town filled him with pride, even if it was a lot of work. Besides the perks though there were the caveats. There was the whole, random things popping out of the woods every other week to try and kill him. And then the being responsible for a pack of ten other werewolves in their early twenties who were for the most part, especially the guys of the pack, dumb as all hell. Lastly there were the witches.

Pickering’s history was rooted in something straight out of folklore. Centuries ago, the land used to belong to Shawn’s ancestors, but the witches had arrived and put a hex on the land. They would only remove the hex if they were allowed to stay. There had been whole wars between his kind and the witches until his great-great-great-grandfather had come into power. It was he who struck a treaty with the witches in order to prevent any more death. It didn’t mean that prejudice didn’t continue, and most of the town was extremely segregated. You were either a witch or a wolf, or a human and that determined just about everything for you.

Shawn had grown up with that history, so needless to say witches weren’t exactly his best friends in town. However, he also grew up knowing that his destiny was to one day lead the town. His dad raised him on compassion and leadership with the understanding that their town was a town for all, not just one. Even if it was difficult. Especially if it was difficult. His duty as the leader of the town, as the leader of the pack, was to keep the peace. This was certainly easier said than done, but he didn’t exactly have a choice.

That’s how he found himself on their side of town on a friday night, when he could have been at the bar with his friends, or at the gym, or literally doing anything else in the world. It was his responsibility to check in with their elder, a beautiful old black woman who hadn’t aged a day since Shawn had met her as a child except for her hair that turned a stark shade of silver white. She was the most powerful witch that he’d ever come across, and one of the only ones who he had gotten the chance to truly and genuinely know and respect.

He knocked politely on the door, shoes already in hand, because she had a thing about her floors. The door opened and instead of the very tiny woman with a cane he’d been expecting, a much younger woman stood in her place. She had brilliantly dark skin with even darker eyes to match. Her hair was nearly waist length locs with a part down the side that kept a few of them covering the side of her face. He had an innate yearning to move them out of the way so that he could see her better. Her cheekbones were high and prominent on her face and she wore makeup that made her skin almost shimmer in the setting sun. She was maybe the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“You are...not Edna.” He mumbled looking her up and down.

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes so quickly it nearly gave him whiplash. His heart squeezed softly in his chest. Wow.

“That the kind of impeccable wit that the town leader is carting around?”

“And who might I ask are you?”

“Girl, stop playing and let that boy in the house!” Edna called from somewhere inside.

He grinned slightly at her stepping into the house and passing slowly around her as she refused to move from the doorway.

Edna was sat in her same chair she always sat in when he came over. It was in her room with all of the glass windows that allowed you to see her garden in the backyard. She sat there a lot, as she was now a little too old to go out every day and tend to it the way that she used to. When he was a kid simply attending his father’s meetings, she used to do something special where she would have him pick a flower that was nowhere near bloom. With a touch of her finger she could make the flower come to life in his tiny hand. He had thought it was the coolest thing ever at the time. She still had him pick flowers every now and again.

“Ms. Edna.” He smiled quickly joining her in the chair across from hers.

“Shawn.” She nodded handing lifting gently to point to the beautiful woman who opened the door for him. “Don’t mind her none. That’s my granddaughter, Athena.”

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” He murmured.

“You haven’t. Her mother moved far away from here when she was younger than you are now. Couldn’t handle the way this town treated her. Stopped using magic, ignored her natural born talent.” Edna sighed much to the discomfort of Athena. “Athena here is my successor. That is why I’ve had you come over tonight.”

“Successor?”

“Why yes. Boy, I am old and tired. I can’t keep helping you every time something goes bump in the night. It’s time for me to let go. Athena will have all of my powers and more. She is meant to be the strongest witch this world has ever seen.”

He peered over at her in curiosity. She was leaning her shoulder against the wall, arms still crossed. She wore tattered up jeans and an old band tee. There was this incredibly adorable rose gold hoop ring in her nose. She was gorgeous for sure. But the most powerful witch? He just wasn’t seeing it.

“What can she even do though?”

Athena poked one of her fingers out from underneath her arm and flicked it toward the bookshelf just in time to send one flying towards his head. He rubbed soothingly at his own head where there was sure to be a bump and plopped the book down on the table.

“Wonderful, the next time the town is under attack I’ll be sure to call you so you can book them to death.” He snorted.

Edna and Athena shared a look, Edna shaking her head slowly at her. It wasn’t long before Athena was rolling her eyes and leaving the room with a huff. Shawn mentally added mind reading to her list of capabilities. Oh god, I hope she didn’t hear me call her beautiful.

“I’m sure you two will get along just wonderful.” Edna snorted.

He ran his fingers through his curls and tugged in frustration.

“I don’t think she’s gonna like me much. Are you sure she’s the one?”

“Oh boy, you have no idea.”

He left the meeting with a headache, a little annoyance, and an unfortunate visual of the way the sunset had hit her skin in his mind. Ugh.

***

A few weeks go by before he sees Athena again. It’s a Saturday night and most of the pack is littered around the bar, everyone nursing drinks and having a good time. He was in a really intense game of pool with Brian when the door to the bar opened and everyone sort of froze. It’s hard to describe what a witch smells like. There’s an earthiness to it with a hint of something metallic and something that was just off. Perhaps that's why he didn’t have nearly the reaction of everyone else in the bar, because Athena didn’t smell like that to him. She didn’t smell wrong.

The bar they were at was sort of known as the wolf bar. Some of the humans from town frequented as well, but certainly there had never been a witch in the bar before. Shawn had shared that Edna was training her successor to take over, but no one had met her yet. She was so new to town, and didn’t seem to get out much. She picked a hell of a night to start.

Athena was wearing a jumpsuit that night. It was multi-colored stripes of navy blue, white, and pink, a sharp departure from her ripped jeans. She’d traded her locs for beautiful, tight curls that fell all the way down to her chin. She seemed to get a little prettier every time he saw her. Especially when she was walking up to a bar full of werewolves completely unphased. The bartender that night was Eddy, who happened to have run the bar since his dad’s days. He was more traditional than Shawn liked, and might just be the type to give her trouble.

“Shawn where are you--”

“Hold on a second.” He huffed towards Brian as he headed for the bar.

“Excuse me, I’d like a whiskey on the rocks please?” Athena asked for what must have been at least the second time.

Eddy sneered. “We don’t serve your kind here ma’am.”

“What the entire fuck do you mean, ‘my kind’?!”

“Eddy!” Shawn called alpha mode completely taking over. “Make her a fucking drink, man. Now.”

Athena turned to look at him, her eyes practically sparkling and he almost forgot his own name. She looked absolutely dazzling when she was pissed, and boy was she fucking pissed. Eddy went to make the drink leaving them to just sort of stare at each other. He wasn’t really sure what the right thing was to say here. Yea, we usually don’t serve witches here, but stick with me and I’ll get you in! That sounded fucking terrible even to him.

He placed the drink in front of her and she turned a glare on him so fierce it looked like it should’ve turned him to dust where he stood.

“So, Eddy, is it just witches that aren’t allowed here, or do you frown upon us niggers to?”

Eddy’s face turned bright red at her words. As if to make matters worse she spit into the drink while making eye contact with him and then proceeded to knock it over onto the counter before standing up to leave.

“I’d be careful if I was you Eddy. Wouldn’t want me to get my gang o’ witches to make a soup out of you now would you?”

And then she was gone. And before the door had even closed he was stumbling after her. It wasn’t even conscious. He just needed to.

“Hey! Hey, I’m sorry okay? It’s not even like that. A witch has never even tried to enter that bar since its inception.”

“It’s not like that aye? Whether it’s because I’m black, or because I’m a witch, all you white boys are the same.”

He reaches for her arm and pulls her to a stop. There’s something about her anger towards him that hurts a little bit, makes him uncomfortable. He needs it to stop.

“I do not hate you because you’re a witch. And I don’t hate you because you’re black. I don’t hate you at all, okay? You’re just a little hard to get through to. You have to know that. I’m pretty sure you’re doing it on purpose.”

She tugs out of his grip and puts more distance between the two of them.

He sighed and tried again. “Can I give you a bit of advice? Maybe don’t go terrifying the locals, if you’re gonna take Edna’s place. They need to trust you.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the locals of this place. I hate it here, and if I had any say at all I wouldn’t even be here.” She snorted. “Any other dazzling advice?”

“Why are you so incredibly angry, huh?”

She just snorted and turned her back on him, quickly heading the way that she came. It didn’t matter how beautiful she looked, or how fucking great her cheek bones were. Shawn had come to a new startling conclusion. Athen was absolutely gorgeous. And he couldn’t fucking stand her.

***

It’s Sunday dinner. Every week his mum made him come back to the house for her famous roast, and to catch up with the family. It had been her caveat to him moving in with the pack at eighteen. They’d kept the tradition up ever since. His dad had never been prouder than when Shawn became an alpha, and had loved nothing more than handing over the next generation of pack lineage to him. He had helped him through his own transition phase, had been there for him every step of the way. A part of him had been scared that his dad might resent him for presenting as alpha so early. When the next alpha presents themself, the current one loses some of their speciality. They begin to age again, lose the abudantant strength while still maintaining the average alpha strength. Eventually his father would stop shifting, and he would just get to live out his life his mum. Shawn would continue on as alpha, at the peak of his youth until he has kids, or until a new alpha arose.

“Smells great mum.” He greeted kissing the side of her cheek as he entered the kitchen. “Got anything for me to test?”

She snorted. “No. It’s hard enough feeding you two as it is. Go help dad set the table.”

She makes enough roast for a family double their size and it just might be enough to feed them. There are potatoes and green beans and rolls. The entire house smells just like it used to when he was a kid. Sometimes he misses it. Especially times like this when he’s frustrated with the pack.

“Edna brought over her granddaughter for tea last week.” His mum notes. “What a lovely young woman.”

He snorted into his potatoes. “That’s certainly one way to describe her.”

“Oh, you don’t like the town’s latest addition?” His dad asked.

“Maybe I would if she wasn’t the biggest asshole I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Language Shawn Peter.”

He rolled his eyes. “She hates the town with a burning passion. I tried to be nice to her even, but it’s pointless. She hates werewolves. She hates me. And I’m supposed to work with her just because Edna says so? That’s ridiculous.”

“Well it’s nice to know you don’t feel strongly at all.” His dad joked.

“Seriously dad. She’s the worst. And she’s only going to cause problems. I’ve worked my ass off to keep the peace in this town, and she walked straight into Eddy’s pub, spit into a drink, and threw it all over the bar. She’s only going to mess things up.”

His dad did a hum that he used to do when Shawn was a child. That hum always meant he was in for some sort of lesson. And never one that he was particularly interested in learning.

“I’m surprised Eddy served her a drink at all. Guy’s a real traditionalist prick.”

“Language at the table guys!” His mum reminded them forcefully.

“Sorry.” They said in unison.

Shawn sighed softly and picked at his potatoes.

“He didn’t. He refused to serve her, and I had to make him do it.” He admitted. “She didn’t know if he was being racist or...witchist?”

“Ahhh, so you can imagine how someone in her position might not be too trusting of us wolves then?”

And here comes the lesson.

“I understand that. But, I stuck up for her didn’t I? I even followed her out to make sure she was alright and she practically spit in my face. If she doesn’t like my town she can get the hell out of it.”

His dad only smiled. “I get how protective you are over this town and its people. It’s was makes you such a great alpha. But I raised you to not see this town as just a place for werewolves. We haven’t been that way in a very long time. The harder you try to fight the witches, the harder time you’re going to have. We share the land now, and if she’s not feeling included here as far as I’m concerned, it's your duty to figure out why and fix it.”

“You want me to fix the rift between the werewolves and the witches? A war that has gone on for centuries?”

“What I’m saying is, you might try to be a little more empathetic. I knew her mother well, and I have a feeling her understanding of this town might be rooted in a lot of pain and a lot of hurt. We owe it to her to try and mend some of that.”

Shawn has absolutely no idea what he means by that. And he knows his dad, so he knows he’s not going to get anything else out of him. He’s on his own on this one.

***

Shawn’s in the middle of doing pull ups in the middle of the doorway to his bedroom when Jasmine and Lily come inside. They were twins, two olive toned gymnasts with bigger leg muscles than him and jet black hair they both always kept braided up. They had been on patrol last, so he figured they were just there to catch him up.

“All good?” He asked.

Jasmine poked playfully at his stomach trying to make him falter in his pull ups.

“Well, we caught wind of a witch actually. But it was about twenty miles out into the woods, and it didn’t seem threatening. Do you want us to go back out?”

He shook his head. “I could use a run anyway. I’ll check it out. Let Brian and Zeubin know just in case though.”

He hops down from his bar and tugs off his shoes, wanting as little clothes to have to worry about as possible. He heads for the garage to fully disrobe, ties his sweats to an ankle with the cord he always carried around with him, and shifts before darting out into the woods. The scent isn’t hard to pick up. He catches it about five minutes into his run. Running is definitely his favorite part of the whole wolf thing. He’s faster than his human form could ever imagine. The wind pulls through his fur, and his sight can catch just about anything that might come his way. It’s the most free he ever feels is when he’s just running through the woods. Just as soon as he picks up the scent is just as soon as he realizes that this isn’t just any witch at all.

He’d yet to figure out why Athena didn’t smell off to him. Why she smelt exactly the opposite. Her scent wasn’t sickening, in fact it reeked of warmth and sun, and something a little sweet. He slows down his running as he comes to clearing in the trees. She’s sitting on the ground, her eyes closed. At first he thought she was just meditating or something. And then the wind began to swirl around her. He felt his fur stand up straight on his back and all of a sudden the trees began to shake around the clearing. Her face grew tight with tension and concentration. The ground shook and her body lifted clear off the ground still in the crossed leg position. He watched as the dirt and leaves began to swirl along the ground as if she was creating a tornado with her mind. It reminded him aimlessly of Edna with the flowers but far, far more intense. Who the hell was this girl?

Suddenly her eyes opened and they were piercingly white, almost like lightning. It made sense because just a moment later the sky opened up to a piercing beam of lightning and a loud crack of thunder that hurt his ears. She let out a blood curdling scream before falling to the ground. The earth all around her became still as her body lie limp on the ground. He was shifting and pulling on his pants before he could even think to do anything else.

She doesn’t come to when he picks her up, and there’s a trickle of blood running down her nose. She must have over done it a bit if the scorched earth from her thunderbolt was anything to go off of.

He carries her back to the pack house in a smooth jog, making sure not to startle her too much. She still doesn’t wake up. When he begins to exit the woods, most of the pack is waiting by the sliding glass doors, easily having picked up her scent. No one else seems to think she smells good. It must just be him. Brian and Zeubin being his Betas quickly step to him as he carries her toward the house.

“What the hell is this?” Brian asked in confusion. “ What’s going on?”

“She passed out in the woods. Go find me a blanket or something. Have Lily make some of that freaky herbal tea of hers.”

“But--But she’s a witch?”

His eyes blaze red and he pauses to let Brian cower beneath the intensity of his gaze.

“And we protect all people on our fucking land, so go get the blanket Brian. That’s an order.”

He carries her into the house and skips the couch entirely to head for his bedroom. He gets her into bed and goes to wet a wash cloth while Brian gets another blanket, and Lily makes the tea. The blood under her nose had begun to dry, so he wiped softly at it to make sure she was done bleeding. Her heart rate sounded fine. Her breathing was normal. But she was completely unconscious.

When it was clear she was going to be out for a while he closed the door to his bedroom and immediately pulled all of the pack into the living room for a meeting.

“What’s going on boss, she okay?” Conner, one of the youngest of the pack asked.

Shawn nodded. “I think she’ll be fine. She was practicing some of her magic in the woods when I found her. She just over did it. We’ll let her sleep it off here and then I’ll get her back to Edna’s. In the meantime it seems we need to have a conversation about what our jobs are in this town.”

He peers over at Brian who thumbs guilty at his nose, eyes downcast.

“If I ever hear a word about one of you denying help to anyone because they’re a witch, you’ll answer to me. Got it?” He snapped.

Everyone nods and agrees quickly not wanting to anger him more than he already has been. Shawn hated being the angry alpha; it felt incredibly cliche to him. But sometimes it was the only way to get them to know he meant business.

“I know that we’ve always kept the peace by letting them do their thing over there while we do ours over here, but we’re the protectors of the town dammit. And that means everyone who occupies it. Tell me you all know that? Tell me I can trust each of you to do that.”

They all stare back at him with open and honest eyes nodding. He trusts them with his life just as they trust him with theirs. It’s the only way the pack will work. It’s the only way they can all stay safe.

He dismisses them all after going over patrol orders for the night, and grabs Lily’s tea before heading back to his room.

Athena was lying on the bed still out cold. He set the tea on the bedside table and took the cloth again to press gently to her forehead. This time when he touched her, she came to although not exactly the way that he would have liked. Her eyes burst open and she lurched forward, her hands coming out to defend herself. One second he was pressing the washcloth to her forehead and the next he was flying back into the wall and landing flat on his ass.

“Shit! Oh my god, are you okay?!”

He grunted lowly, ego taking much more of a hit than his actual body did, and got back up. It’s a good thing he healed super quickly. He had a feeling this one was going to get him into nothing but trouble.

“I’m fine. Although if this is how you thank those that help you, I might have left you in the woods.” He snorted.

Her eyes turned to slits, and just like that her resting bitch face was back.

“What do you mean? How the hell did I end up here?”

“My pack found your scent, and I came to check it out. You were doing some weird shit in the sky and then you collapsed out of nowhere. I brought you back here to let you rest.”

“Oh how kind of you.” She sneered already pulling the blanket off of her body.

“I thought it was extremely kind of me actually! Especially considering how big of an asshole you are to me on a daily basis.”

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be on a daily basis if you stopped showing up everywhere I am all the time!”

“And just what do you suppose would have happened to you if I left you there?!” He yelled back at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I would have been fine! I can protect myself and I don’t need your fucking pity, alright?!”

The alpha in him didn’t do particularly well with being challenged. Even the human part of him was pissed. She seemed to have a particular talent for making his fucking blood boil. So he could feel that part of him lurch towards the surface and his eyes turn red as she managed to make him madder than any other person he’d ever met. In that moment he hated her. Let his father’s lesson be damned.

“You are the most stuck up, evil,  self-centered witch I have ever met in my life! I should have left you there to electrocute yourself . You think you’re so fucking strong, but you’re just dense! No one can do it alone. Not even you! Has Edna taught you nothing?!”

“You shouldn’t even let her name come out of your filthy mouth! What I learn and what I do has nothing to do with you!”

She makes him angrier than he can even stand. He was a seasoned alpha at that point, had far learned to master his emotions and to reign it in when necessary. But she just kept pushing, kept digging, kept hitting at him. He had never experienced anything like it before. It’s not until he’s growling at her and he feels the familiar stretch in his bones that he realizes he’s on the cusp of shifting. He hadn’t shifted out of sheer anger since he first turned. She drove him absolutely mad.

“Get out! Get the fuck out!”

The lights flicker and her jaw is set on edge. They absolutely despise each other and nothing is ever going to change that. When he yells at her her hands come up in front of her as if she wants to choke him. Instead she wreaks havoc on his room instead. His lamp flies and smashes into the wall in a similar fashion to the way his body had earlier. All of the books on his book shelf fly off and the glass to his sliding door that leads to balcony shatters as she let’s the room have all of her frustrations. She opens the door with her mind and practically glides out of the room.

Zeubin and Brian are there waiting, peering into the room where all of his shit is destroyed. After the speech he’d given about protecting witches, reasonably they’re a bit confused as to how to proceed.

“What do we do?!” Zeubin asked peering anxiously from the hallways and back to Shawn.

“Nothing. Just--Just leave it. I’m going for a run.”

He brushes past his friends not even hesitating to shift the moment he’s outside, sweatpants bedamned. He needed to get her out of his system, to get her smell off of him. She made his blood boil. He was filled with anger and disgust and hurt. And he just had to get away.

***

*Athena’s pov*

She stormed into the house with a fury. Her heart hasn't stopped racing since she left his room. She was absolutely livid. The door slammed so hard it rattled on its hinges. And her grandmother was not having it.

“Girl! Whose door is you slamming?!” Edna called. “Come in here!”

She sighed, feet dragging as she slumped into her room. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to go back to before she had even decided to come to this stupid ass town.

Her grandmother takes one look at her and all of the anger melted from her face. She was an empath, among all her other great powers, and it meant she had an innate ability to feel and understand what she was feeling.

“Child come sit. What is going on with you?”

She crawled into her bed in defeat, head immediately falling into her lap.

“I just can’t do it mama.” She sighed. “I can’t be what you are. I can’t find any love for this place. Not after everything they did to my mom.”

There are tears of pure frustration in her eyes, and Edna reaches to tug up at her chin.

“Now wait just a second. What happened? Start at the beginning.”

“I was in the woods practicing just like you said! And I guess I...I might have over done it. I passed out. And that damn man found me.”

At this, Edna chuckles.

“Mama, it’s not funny!”

“Shawn? Shawn found you?” She asked. “Child, this whole you against the world attitude causes you nothing but strife. Please do explain to me how that man helping you caused you to slam my damn door?”

Athena rolled her eyes. “He called me evil. Self-centered. Dense. I’ve never hated someone so much in my life.”

“Girl… you are fighting the inevitable here. This is your destiny. I know it is scary, and I know it is overwhelming, but that is not going to stop it from happening. Now I want you to cry when you need to, want you to scream with all your might when you need to, but it will not change what you are to become. You are the strongest witch this land has ever seen. You will rise to power, and with that power will only come the responsibility of protecting this town and the people in it. And I am sorry to burst your bubble, but you will have to work with him to do that. It is his destiny just as it is yours. You are meant to be.”

Athena tucked her head softly into her grandmother’s arms as few tears ran down her cheeks.

“They were so awful to her, mama. She used to tell me all these stories of the way they treated her and daddy.How ugly they all were. Why should I take care of any of them. They think the same of me. It’s all the same kind of hate.”

Edna settled her fingers into her hair and detangle the strands mindlessly to soothe her.

“So much can change in a lifetime baby. I know even better than your momma how hateful these folk can be. Nothing they said to her they didn’t say to me. She just got it worse because of your daddy. But, something changed with the Mendes lineage a few centuries ago. They stopped caring about power and cared more about peace. And the result has been that with every generation they preach less and less of that hate you’re talking about. Shawn, bless him, is the kindest one I’ve ever known. Takes after his daddy. When he was a little boy, he used to keep his fangs hidden because he was afraid of scaring people. He was more interested in sitting out in my garden than rough housing. He ain’t got a hateful bone in his body. He just loves this town and he wants to take care of it.”

Athena hates when her grandmother is right. And her grandmother is always right.

“I can’t read him.” She mumbled glumly. “I can feel his emotions, but I can’t tell what they’re stemming from. I can’t tell anything. It’s so frustrating.”

“Hmmm, you could always ask him.”

She snorted. “Sure, mama. After I just went all Carrie on his room, i’m sure he’d love to sit around and braid each other’s hair and talk about boys.”

“Well, I’m sure an apology would go a long way. You’ll figure it out.”

She wasn’t so sure she would.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s at the shop when he gets the call. Couple hiking in the woods mauled by a bear. Brian and Zeubin meet him out there. The police have the crime scene taped off, but he’s let under immediately. It takes one whiff to know it’s not a bear. It’s a wolf but he doesn’t recognize the scent, which means everyone is immediately on high alert. The fact that one of them survived is good because it means they can question him. But, it only takes one look at his face when he realizes his wife is gone to know that there’s nothing good about any of this.

His name was Cole Patterson. He and his wife ran one of the general stores in town. They were good people. He grabs tightly at the man’s hand as they wheel his gurney towards the ambulance.

“We’ll find who did it Mr. Patterson. I swear to you. I’ll make it right.”

But his face is so swollen that in conjunction with the tears, he doesn’t get much of an answer. It hurts his heart. And with the sadness comes the innateness to protect, to defend. He just hated seeing others in pain. And it was his job to fix it.

“What do you want us to do?” Zeubin asked.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Run along to the house. Fill the others in. I want round the clock patrols starting now and want the perimeter expanded fifty miles. We’ll meet first thing in the morning and figure out our plan of attack. You see anything in the woods and you don’t attack. Go the hell home. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

His betas nod before running off to follow his orders. He sticks around to gather more information from the police in the hopes that it might help the pack. He knows it’s his duty to alert the elders to the situation, so his first stop is to Edna’s, and he’s hoping and praying that the stuck up wicked witch of the west had hopped on her broomstick for the night.

It’s raining, so by the time he gets there and shifts back he’s soaked to the bone. He only has enough time to share what he knows with Edna. He needs to get back to the pack, needs to protect his people. She’s sitting on her porch in her rocking chair waiting for him, so he assumes it will be an easy meeting. How fucking stupid of him.

“So, we’ll be running patrols twenty-four seven. Do you think you could make a protection charm for the part of the woods where the attack happened. If it’s a wolf it’s probably going to return to the same place.”

For a moment she just rocks softly in her chair and peers up at him with those eyes of hers he used to be completely mesmerized by as a kid.

“I won’t be helping you this time, Shawn.” She finally murmured.

“What? What do you mean?”

“This is Athena’s time. That’s why this is happening now. It is her test to see if she can handle her powers.”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“You have got to be kidding me! Edna, I do not have time for your granddaughter to ‘test her powers’ when my people are dying.”

She smiled at him. “They are her people too. She will help you.”

Edna wasn’t one to get angry at. Mostly because she could kick your ass with a wave of her hand. But also just the respect that she had garnered over years and years left him slightly whiny and beggy.

“Listen. She hates me. And that’s fine because now I sort of hate her too. There is no way in hell I can work with her. She hates my kind, and she hates this town. I can’t trust her to protect it. I need you, Edna.”

He’s a little desperate. The town wasn’t just full of wolves. In fact the vast majority of the town was made up of humans with a strong united pack to make sure that everyone was safe when shit went bump in the night. Especially the supernatural bumps in the night. The thing that made a good alpha was recognizing that one needed the help of his fellow pack members, and even other supernatural folks, to be at his best. He’d learned that lesson the hard way when he was younger and more cocky and stupid. But the truth of the matter was magic had kept the entire town safe for centuries now. And he wasn’t about to switch things up when lives were at stake.

He’s about to fall to his knees and just beg Edna to do the fucking charm when the door opens and out she walks. This time her hair is tied up with a scarf, dozens and dozens of tight little curls spilling out from a ponytail high up on her head. She’s in jeans again and a leather jacket and boy does he fucking wish it didn’t do anything for him. He can’t help but notice the skip of a beat in his heart that surely isn’t rage or hatred. And that’s the worst part about all of this.

“I’ll do it.” She said. “I can do it. Just show me where it’s at.”

He raised a pointed eyebrow and settled his hands on his hips.

“And I’m supposed to believe that because? Last time I saw you you told you hated this town and everything in it.”

She rolled her eyes as if he was the over dramatic one and twirled an umbrella in her fingers.

“Look I don’t have time to argue with you. Either I can make the charm and help your ass or not. It’s up to you.”

He stared at her in disbelief. And then at Edna who only smirked at him. This family was going to drive him fucking insane. No doubt about it. But he needed the damn charm.

“ Fine. But that umbrella is going to do you no good. I’m going to have to carry you.”

“Excuse me? I’ll drive.”

He felt his muscles tense and perhaps the first headache he’d had in months descend upon him too.

“It’s in the middle of the woods on a hiking trail. A car is not going to get you there. And a car can’t move as fast as me. You’re just going to have to get a little wet.”

It’s Athena’s turn to stare at her grandmother in disbelief. Her smile never shifts.

“Well you’ll just have to wait while I go cover my hair then.” she snorted.

“Excuse me?! Did you miss the part where someone died!”

“Calm down white boy. Damn. So dramatic.”

Fucking. Insane.

***

The rain makes a real mess of things. It’s muddy and dark and if he didn’t have incredible vision they’d probably be fucked. She’s surprisingly quiet throughout the entire walk and doesn’t even complain when he has to pick her up. It’d different than the last time he saw her. The energy surrounding her isn’t nearly as hostile and aggressive. In fact it kind of seems more like she’s thinking than anything else. The usual look of disgust isn’t even present on her face. Not that he’s looking at her face or anything. Because he isn’t.

So they walk and he holds her and it’s just the world of trees and greenery and rain around them. It’s ten times better than her fucking up his room and yelling at him.

“What are you thinking about?” He chanced readjusting his grip on her as he steps over a fallen tree.

She’s got a bright ass raincoat on and he’d go to the grave willingly before telling anyone that she looked cute in it. Because she doesn’t. She absolutely doesn’t.

“I can’t read you.” She mumbled from beneath her hood. “And I find it very annoying.”

“So you can read minds?”

She shook her head. “Nah boy, what am I Edward Cullen? I’m an empath. I can feel the emotions of those around me. I can usually get a really good sense of what those emotions are stemming from though. Like when mama is angry I can sense what her anger is in reference to. I slammed the door a couple of weeks back and I knew that that was what her anger stemmed from before she said anything. It gives me a really good understanding of people which is really all empaths are. When my power expand I’ll be able to infiltrate people’s feelings, make them feel what I want them too. With you though….I can sense the emotions but I never have any idea what they mean.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know. I have a sense that mama knows why but she’s not telling me for some reason.”

Edna had a history of knowing all and purposely letting you figure it out all on your own no matter how frustrating it might be. Shawn could imagine.

“Well, what am I feeling right now?”

“You feel...calm. But when you showed up at the house you were scared. You were in pain. You felt sad. Why are you calm now?”

He peered down at her as he walked. Her eyebrows were furrowed. She looked at him with genuine concern. It compelled a certain level of honesty that he never thought he would share with her.

“I feel most myself in the woods. Well besides from when I’m in wolf form anyway. I can’t really explain it. The earth and the trees and everything? It’s just always felt like home. I used to spend all my time out here even as a kid.” He explained. “It kind of helps that you’re not throwing books at my head this time around.”

Her fingers tighten slightly in his damp t-shirt.

“Yea… I uh I am sorry about how I reacted. You were just trying to help me and I was just really scared when I woke up. I--I had no idea where I was. And I was very frustrated that I wasn’t able to defend myself. Doesn’t matter. Still sorry.”

He feels incredibly tongue tied. Never in a million years would he have guessed that she would apologize let alone seem so sincere when she did it. It was like talking to a completely different person. A person he might actually be able to stand.

“I can understand that,” He spoke slowly. “I can’t imagine waking up with no idea where I am, and then my big dumb face is staring back at you. Might scare anyone.”

She laughs. And it...it nearly stops his heart. He can’t even explain the way that it makes him feel, so he hopes she can’t tell either. Whatever it is, it’s like a light. Like they’re moving through the big dark forest, but the second that she laughs the sun might as well appear. It’s like warmth and light and something pure. He’s left completely dumbfounded.

“Big, yes. Dumb, no.” She snorted. “I’ll be sure to get you a new lamp though. My bad.”

He keeps his mouth shut just in case he says anything stupid. Before he knows it, they're at the clearing to the trail where the attack took place. He lets her down off his arms and she moves to take in the scene before her. She pulls a jar out of her raincoat and walks slowly and methodically around the space sprinkling something along the ground as she whispers s beneath her breath. When she comes back to the space that she started a bright light emits from the ground and forms a circle around the space. It disappears soon after and then she puts the jar away and skips back over to him like nothing even happened.

“That’s it? It’s just safe now?”

She nods. “No evil energy will be able to penetrate it. Scouts honor.”

The thing about magic, and about witchcraft, was it wasn’t his area of expertise. All he could really do most of the time was trust that Edna was telling him the truth. And when it came to Athena, when it came to all of the things she’s said to him and yelled at him? Still all he was left with was a choice. Either he could trust her, or he could not.

“Okay.”

That was the night he decided to trust her.

He led her back down out of the woods. Instead of carrying her, they walked. In spite of how much slower it was, in spite of him having places to be, and commands to give. He walked alongside her in the woods. And he couldn’t explain what was compelling him to be alright with these circumstances. All he knew was that when she said she’d rather walk, he simply followed alongside her. And that was it.

“Can I ask you something?” She murmured arms in her big puffy raincoat and eyes completely on the ground trying to make sure she didn’t fall.

He nodded. “Sure.”

“The pain that you felt earlier? That fear? Where did it stem from?”

He lets his fingers graze her elbow to lead her over a rock so that she doesn’t trip.

“A woman died tonight.”

“Did you know her?”

“No. Not really. I mean knew of her the way that I know everyone in this town. But she was mine to protect nonetheless. I failed her tonight. And I failed her husband. And I failed all of her loved ones. The least I can do is mourn her death, don’t you think?”

She peers up at him from beneath her hood. Even in the dark he can read her eyes. Confused. Curious. It was like she was looking for something within him she couldn’t find. And he wasn’t sure what it was, or why she couldn’t find it.

“My mama...she says you don’t have a hateful bone in your body. She thinks you love this town more than anyone. Is that true?”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t know about that. I can get very angry sometimes. It’s the alpha in me. I try my best not to be hateful though. This town it...it’s all that I have. It’s all that I am. My genes, my lineage, it was all created so that I could protect all who occupy this land. I love it here. I know it’s got its problems, and I know it hasn’t always been the greatest to your family or to other witches. But I’m trying to change that. I’m trying to take care of everyone here, Athena. Not just werewolves.”

She nods softly and goes back to staring at the ground. They don’t talk for the rest of the walk, but it’s okay. They’re sort of okay.

***

“We found the scent about thirty miles west and followed it. It cuts off through the Ottawa river, and we lose it there. We tried moving to the other side, but we got nothing.” Conner explained.

“Okay. We’ll make a visit to the next pack over city limits. I’ll take Jasmine and Zeubin with me. If we find out it’s not one of theirs then we regroup and we prepare as if we’re under attack. In the meantime, we continue with round the clock patrol. I’ll meet with Edna and Athena to make them aware and ask if they can help us at all.”

Everyone nods and breaks off to their respective tasks. The town hadn’t see any trouble in quite a long time. A lot of people thought that was a testament to Shawn's leadership. He wasn’t that naive. He thought he’d just managed to get a little lucky. After All the best way to manage the way an alpha led his back was in times of difficulty not peace.  

It’s a two day trip to get there and back. He doesn’t want the neighboring pack to get scared by their presence so he only takes two of them with him. He also needs Brian back at home to watch over everyone and everything. And nothing against the kid, but he wouldn’t want to leave anyone in charge of his pack for more than two days. This was his main reason for stopping by Edna’s again. It’s definitely his only reason too.

Athena opens the door. She’s got her hair in that pineapple shaped ponytail again. The real difference this time is that she’s in a sweatshirt and leggings with no makeup on. She looks soft and warm. He completely forgets everything that he came there for. And it’s even worse because Jazmine and Zeubin were right behind him, and she’s staring at him a little bit like he’s crazy. Maybe he is.

“You were feeling fine a second ago. Determined. Now you feel overwhelmed. What’s wrong?” She asked.

“I….Uh--Sorry! I just um. I forgot what I was gonna say for a second.” He chuckled. “Can I talk to you and Edna?”

“Sure. Yea, come in.”

He catches them up on everything that he knows. Even he doesn’t notice but he spends the majority of his time talking to Athena. And she spends all of her time making eye contact with him. It’s clear to everyone in the room that something has shifted. There’s no longer a hatred in the room. It’s something different entirely. By the time they’re caught up, and it’s time to leave, he pulls her to side for a second just to check in separately.

“What’s up?” She asked softly.

“I need you to do something for me, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“What is it?”

“I just...I need you to keep an eye out while I’m gone, please? Just make sure nothing happens?”

Her eyes widened. “Me? Why not mama?”

“Because you’re supposed to be my point of contact now right?” He asked reaching for her arms. “ Don’t worry. I trust you.”

“You do?”

“I do...I haven’t quite figured out why yet. But, I do. You can feel that though can’t you?”

She scrunched her face up slightly as she peered at him in bafflement. He wondered if he could read her emotions if that would be all she ever felt towards him.

“I can. Okay I--I’ll keep an eye out.” She agreed.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He smiled at her.

“Thank you.”

*Athena’s point of view*

“You’re pacing.”

Athena rolled her eyes. “I’m not pacing I’m just thinking.”

“Well then you’re pacing and you’re thinking. Girl, what is the matter with you?”

Athena paused in her nonstop path of circles that she’d walked around her bedroom to peer at her friend. Taylor was the only friend she’d made thus far in the tiny town. And it was a hundred percent because she was black and a witch too. They had to stick together in this crazy ass town. Taylor was also born and raised in Pickering and was kind enough to give Athena background when she needed it. Although she had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to help this time around.

Taylor lied in the middle of her bed, locs long and neatly spread out across her bed, as she stared at her like she was crazy.

Athena rolled her eyes. “I’m just...I’m trying to figure out what the hell to do.”

“About?”

“Shawn asked me to look over things while he was gone. I promised. And now I have no idea how to actually do that seeing as how I have zero contact with the pack.”

“Wait wait wait...Since when did you make promises to Shawn Mendes of all people? I thought you hated his guts?”

Athena paused. “I did. I--I do! I...I don’t know!”

“I can’t believe you’ve let me sit here for over an hour watching you walk around like a crazy woman when you had tea to spill. Sit down.” Taylor exclaimed.

She doesn’t really know how to explain, or what to explain. She didn’t quite get it herself. After her talk with Edna, she had decided to head her advice if only to save herself a little frustration. She had zero intentions of trusting Shawn, or anything beyond being cordial enough to get her job done. And then she had talked to him. And he just wasn’t that fucking bad. She kept looking for signs of the rhetoric her mom used to tell her about,  a sign of anger or hate or rage in his eyes. It wasn’t there. His eyes were unbelievably kind. And everytime she read his emotions she couldn’t find any ill intent once so ever. Add on top of that his willingness to share and be open with her, when she’d been nothing but awful to him, she had found herself in a bit of a conundrum.

“I don’t know what it is Tay, I just...something in my gut is telling me he’s not bad. And mama trusts him with her whole heart. I can feel that. And he trusts me. Like really fucking trusts me. Something is telling me to trust him back.”

Her best friend squinted at her and let her legs flop aimlessly around the bed as she thought.

“And this has nothing to do with him being the hottest man this town has ever seen right?”

“W--What?!”

Taylor chortled. “I’m just saying. If that man carried my ass through the woods and made small talk, I’d trust his fine ass too!”

“I hate you. I am never talking to you about anything again.” Athena grumbled.

“Oh don’t get your panties in a bunch. I was just kidding. So, we going over there or what?”

“Tay what in the hell are you talking about?”

Athena watched as Taylor slid off the bed and walked to stand in front of her friend.

“He told you to keep an eye out on things right? You have no contact with his pack. So wouldn’t it make sense for you to go to their house and get some more information?”

“You want me to walk directly into the lion’s den after I smashed their alpha’s shit to pieces and ask them for what? The hot gossip? Girl is you out your damn mind?” Athena snorted.

“It’s the only what you’re going to get any info! And if Shawn trusts you, they don’t have a choice anyway. That shit’s like sacred. What the alpha says, goes. Kinda hot, tbh.”

Athena let her face fall into her hands. “Oh lord.”

Taylor simply laughed. “C’mon. You don’t wanna let your mans down now do you?”

“He is not my mans!”

“No of course not! I absolutely believe you.”

Athena made a mental note to get some new friends.

***

“You are going to get us killed!” Athena hissed as Taylor knocked loudly on the door.

Taylor snorted. “Girl you are the strongest witch in all the land. Let these wolves know.”

Jesus.

The person who answers the door is actually a woman with olive toned skinned and long black hair that hung loosely in a braid. She was like seven feet tall and absolutely gorgeous. Both women found themselves a little baffled at her very presence. Truly a magical specimen she was.

“Can I help you?” She asked at their dumbfounded expressions.

Athena tried to smile. “Hi. I’m Athena.”

“Yea, I know who you are. You threw my tea with your mind and broke my favorite cup.”

Great start.

“Ahh...Well I am so very sorry about that. I would happily get you a new one.” She assured her. “I’m here actually because Shawn sort of asked me to keep an eye on things while he was gone. But I don’t really know how to do that without talking to you all. And I know I’m probably not super well liked here, so I thought I might come and try and set things off on a better foot.”

The beautiful woman tilted her head and stared down at her with hazel eyes that were just the right side of threatening. They were so different from Shawn’s eyes it was almost unrecognizable to her.

“You want to help us?” She asked. “Why?”

Athen huffed a little. “Because it’s kind of my destiny. Or so I’m learning.”

Somehow, someway, she lets them in. And it’s not like a dungeon or anything. It’s just a house. The woman, Lily, was sitting on the couch watching Stranger Things and eating cereal. One of the younger ones, Connor was his name, was swiping through tinder matches and pretending to watch the show with her. There’s no attack, no name calling, no anything. And it’s so incredibly disorienting. It feels completely different than everything she ever knew. Athena wasn’t sure whether to feel elated or disappointed. She didn’t really know how to feel about it at all.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

Jasmine and Zeubin crash into the house like zombies, completely ready to fall into their beds and sleep after the long journey. Shawn on the other hand knows he has to stay on his feet just a little longer. He heads for Brian’s room first once he’s sure that the house itself is still intact. His beta and subsequent best friend was still asleep, but jolted awake as Shawn plopped down on his mattress.

“Shit, dude, I hate when you do that.” He groaned.

Shawn snorted. “Nice to see you too, bud. We’re back if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Mazel tov. Can I go back to sleep?”

“No, jackass; get up. We visited the pack. They had no clue what we were talking about. None of their wolves have gone rogue, and they have no signs of any attacks on their land. We need to be on our best defense. Now what the hell happened while I was gone?”

“Absolutely nothing. We did the round the clock patrols just like you said. Never found the scent again, or any other scent for that matter. Plus your witch friends were here, so even if they were out there they probably got scared off.” Brian snorted.

“Witch friends? What witch friends?”

He rolled his eyes and settled back into his bed. “That Athena chick brought one of her friends over here. Said you told her to keep an eye out on the place. Like you didn’t trust me or something.”

“She came here? To the house, in front of you all?”

“I thought it was pretty ballsy of her too. Lily seemed to get a kick out of her though. You could ask her.”

“Hmm...I’m going to take a nap and then I want everyone’s ass in the living room to plan at noon got it?”

“Yes dude. Please. Sleep.”

Fucking Brian.

***

*Athena’s point of view*

She’s in the woods again trying to channel her powers the way that Edna had taught her. Some days it’s easy and some days it isn’t. Today in particular had been incredibly frustrating. Athena had never worked much with her active powers. Her mother had been purposeful that way. When they moved out of Pickering, she wanted to pretend to be normal. So except for the summers when her mama came to visit, she never really got to use them. It was easy to be an empath, that happened no matter what. But, Edna had assured her that she would have powers that she couldn’t believe. She just had to practice.

And that’s where he finds her. Sitting in the middle of the forest like an idiot. She hears the  break in the leaves and immediately turns with her hands up in case she needed to defend herself.

“Hey, I come in peace!” Shawn called.

She sighed and let her hands drop.

“What are you doing here? You scared me.”

His long legs take him to her in far greater strides then he had any right to be able to do. Before she knew it he was standing in front of her.

“I’m sorry. I went to your house but Edna said I could find you here.” He smiled at her. “Long time no see.”

“It’s been two days.” She snorted. “How did things go with the other pack?”

He frowned. “Not great. It wasn’t them. The pack is making plans of defense as we speak. I just want us to be prepared. It might be nothing, but it might be something.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

He eyed her for a second, a smile still plane on his face.

“You’ve been doing a lot lately. I heard you braved the big, bad wolves while I was away.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You all are not that tough. It was fine. No biggie.”

“You went to a place that I know you don’t like just to check in on my pack. I take that very seriously. That means a lot to me.” He told her reaching for her hands. “Thank you, Athena. I mean it.”

She peers down at his hands and then up into his eyes. She can feel the excitement in his veins, and she can feel a little confusion, and something softer...softer like endearment. It’s cloudy because he doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling, which means she can’t see it either.

“You’re welcome.” She murmured. “If i’m being honest it was a lot for me. I didn’t think they’d even open the door after the last time.”

“You’re fine. They know it’s not that simple, they understand the history. You’re allowed in that house whenever you want. Anyone ever gives you trouble they can answer to me.”

It’s a little aggressive, a little… braggadocious. Suddenly Athena gets a random flashback to Taylor’s obnoxious laughter about Shawn’s attractiveness. She bites her lip a little bit.

“Okay. I’ll make note of that.”

“So, what are you doing out here in the middle of the woods again?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Being the worst witch of all time, really.”

“I highly doubt that. You’ve kicked my ass enough times. What’s the matter?”

She groaned in frustration. “My active powers aren’t fucking activating. Mama says I just need to practice more but I’ve been practicing for hours and nothing is happening.”

“You’re probably just overthinking it. Obviously it’s different but when I was trying to shift for the first few months it was hell. I got so worked up about it and didn’t allow my instincts to just take over. You should get away from it for a while.”

“But this is all I have to do.” She whined. “It’s not like I have a job here, or any commitments. I’m just supposed to be training.”

He smiles at her again. It frustrates her. She can never understand when he gets these random bursts of happiness for no reason. It doesn’t make sense. And she can’t read him enough to determine what it is.

“C’mon.” He said reaching for her hand to tug her along.

She raised an eyebrow. “Boy, where are you taking me?”

“To fucking relax. You’re gonna give yourself a stroke before you turn thirty at this rate.”

“And what makes you think I want to relax with you?”

He turned back around to her, hands still pulling her with him as he walked backwards with the cockiest grin on his face. There’s no reason it should’ve made her heart react the way it did. No reason at all.

“You haven’t sent me flying yet, that’s why.”

He took her to a diner that she’d never been to before. Apparently he was a regular though because the entire place greets him when they walk in. He’s even got his own booth. It’s ridiculous. She went to take her jacket off and he was suddenly right behind her tugging at the shoulders of the jacket to help her out of it. From anyone else it would’ve caused indifference at best, and annoyance at worst. So, why in the world does she smile? And why in the hell is he being so nice to her in the first place? Why does she have zero interest in hating him anymore?

“This place has the best mac and cheese in the whole damn country. I’m sure of it. You must try it.” He said pointing the dish out on the menu.

She rolled her eyes. “What do you know about some mac and cheese, white boy?”

“I’m a white boy with the stomach of a wolf. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

And that’s the most ridiculous part of all of this. She does trust him. Almost endlessly so. Maybe not in his ability to determine what some good ass mac tasted like, but with just about everything else. She doesn’t realize until he’s telling her a story of him confronting his childhood bully after he presented as an alpha, that she’s completely forgotten about her powers. Hell she’d forgotten about being a witch entirely. And if the wolf part hadn’t been central to his story, she wasn’t so sure she would’ve thought about that either. For the first time since she’d entered that town it wasn’t about magic, it wasn’t about the greater good, or her “destiny”. He was just treating her like a person. Like a friend even.

“So you just straight up attacked his ass, aye?” She snorted.

He laughed. “I wouldn’t say attack. I would say...spook. I spooked him a little bit. Hey, I went from this lanky unpopular kid who hung out in gardens and shit to complete lean muscle in a summer. Jackass had it coming for how often he used to make fun of me.”

“Poor baby.”

“Yea, well I’m doing just fine nowadays, if you hadn’t noticed.” He pointed out waving a hand over his general physique.

Her eyes widened. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh come on! Yes you have.”

She reached for her glass to take a slow, deliberate sip of her drink.

“Was there something to notice?” She asked.

“Ouch, Athena. That hurt.” He pouted.

She giggled quietly to herself and he smiled another smile at her.

The food arrives and Shawn has three plates to her one. Something about needing to stay strong and full just so she could not notice. The mac and cheese is shockingly good. Athena peers towards the back to see if there’s a black person back there cooking. The diner is cosy and warm as it starts to rain outside and he keeps making her laugh with a startlingly ease. It feels nice. So nice.

“Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” He said as you both worked on finishing your meals.

Athena shrugged. “Shoot.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want. I was just curious...what exactly happened that made you hate it here so much? I’ll believe you no matter what it is, I just thought I’d ask.”

It stuns her for a moment. She hadn’t even told Taylor about her past with the town. She just assumed Athena hated wolves just because she was a witch. No one but her and her mama really knew what happened. What this town had been like. And even then she had only heard the stories, had never actually been there for it. It’s a story she never quite felt like sharing. But, she can feel his earnestness, can feel the sincerity and the willingness to listen in him. He’s feeling confident, and more than that he’s feeling vulnerable. It’s hard to not let his emotions bleed into her own.

“My momma grew up here.” She whispered peering down at her plate. “She lived here her whole life. And i guess the feud between the witches and the wolves was supposedly a lot better at that point. It would’ve been when your dad was alpha. My dad… he was a beta.”

“Wait...You’re part wolf?”

She nodded. “I guess technically. It never presented in me that way though. But my dad, he fell in love with my mom. They were mates.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yea. It was just about as unheard of as it is now. But they couldn’t help it. They were in love with each other. And when the town found out that a wolf was with a witch? All of that peace treaty shit went straight out the window. She--She couldn’t even leave the house. They would scream the most awful things at her. She wasn’t allowed on his side of town or the locals would throw things at her. I guess my dad would come visit her, but the witches weren’t fond of his kind either. It was awful. She can’t even talk about it to this day without crying. When she got pregnant with me, that was the final straw. She left town and she’s never come back. She’s never forgiven this town for what it took from her.”

Her knee bounces sporadically beneath the table. She doesn’t notice until Shawn covers it with his palm to get her to stop.

“Your dad. What happened to your dad?” He asked.

“He...He stayed here at first. You can’t just leave the pack without there being grave consequences.But the pain of being away from your mate is insufferable. They were literally designed for each other. Apparently he ended up leaving the pack anyway, but the damage had already been done. No one’s heard from him since.”

“Shit. Shit. Athena that--that’s so horrible. Honey, I can’t even...I’m so sorry.”

Sometimes she liked to focus on the emotions of others because it meant she didn’t have to think about herself. It’s made easier when he places his hand on her knee. It’s like his emotions are screaming at her. There’s a sadness. An empathy that feels like it’s wrapping itself around her in a thick smoke. And then there’s a guilt, which throws her completely for a loop.

“You feel guilty. Why?”

He frowned. “Are you kidding me,I was such a dick to you. It never even occurred to me to get your side, to ask you what you've been through. Even when my dad told me to. I should have listened. I should have asked you sooner. I--I’m so sorry. No one deserves to experience that. No wonder you hate it here.”

The sincerity to it all baffles her further. She never could have expected that Shawn would show her this kindness. She didn’t even know wolves were capable of showing someone like her that kindness. His hand is still on her thigh and it’s so warm. This town had felt cold to her for so long, had represented nothing but it. And yet he was here, right in front of her, continuously destroying her expectations.

“Well it...it hasn’t been so bad lately.” She mumbled. “But I uh I’m still trying to learn how to feel like I belong here. And maybe now you can see why that’s been a little more difficult to me. It doesn’t excuse my anger towards you, and I’m still truly sorry about it. I just hope you’ll see that I’m trying.”

“Of course. Hey, of course I do. I’m just glad we’ve gotten to start off on a better foot. You do belong here, Athena. We’re just lucky to have you. I hope you can see that.” he murmured.

His eyes are as warm as his hand, so when he removes his grip from her knee, it doesn’t feel as devastating. She bites her lip to ground herself in the moment, to not be so in her own head, to just say how she really feels.

“I never thought I could feel safe here.” She admitted. “You gave me that. So, thank you.”

“You are always safe here with me, Athena. Always.”

She trusts him then too.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He still meets with his dad to discuss pack issues. He liked knowing that there was a wealth of knowledge that he didn’t necessarily have, but could always tap into. His dad had never led him astray before. So when another hiker goes missing, and they can’t even find the body, he goes to him immediately. Something has to be done. And it has to be the right something because his town’s safety is at stake.

“I don’t know what it is, dad. This whole thing just feels off. It’s too calculated to be a random incident.” He huffed for the umpeenth time.

“What do you mean, what is it?”

“It’s like...it’s like they’re fucking with the line. First we happen to be able to track their scent all the way to the county line, and it just happens to cut off at the river where our territory ends? And then this time they get someone on the trail that is just outside our reach and the scent cuts off again. What are the fuckin’ chances?”

His dad nods. “It’s definitely weird for sure. I want you to trust your gut. All you can do is prepare and be defensive though. If you think a curfew is necessary to keep people out of the woods, then I’m sure sargent Farah would listen to you.”

“But it is weird right? Did anything like this ever happen when you were running the pack?”

“Not exactly. We had a lot more problems with our own fighting each other than others looking to attack.” He sighed.

It reminds him of his lunch with Athena. He could still feel the sadness in his eyes when she told him the story. He could also still see the way he made her laugh when they got ice cream afterwards and he immediately dropped his on the ground. He could feel the flutter it caused in his stomach. And he had no fucking clue what to do about it.

“Yea I uh...Athena finally told me what happened with her mom and dad here. Were you close to the situation?”

Manny shook his head softly. “It was a terrible situation. The worst I ever felt as pack leader. I couldn’t control anything that was happening. Not the humans, not the wolves, not the witches. Everyone was just livid over it. I was close enough to try to convince her father to leave. Being without one’s mate can cause you to go feral. Then again so can leaving your pack. When he left us, I wasn’t sure what to do. I can only hope that he’s okay.”

He plays with one of the rings on his finger to keep him busy as he hedges his next question.

“Were they really mates? Can a wolf and a witch mate?”

“Yea. It’s rare. Very rare. But, it can happen.”

He nodded softly. “Do they always end like that?”

“No, of course not. A wolf and a witch mating is just like any other mates. It’s intense of course, but it’s ultimately lovely.”

When he looks up his dad is giving him that look that says he sees right through him. It was always like his dad to know him better than he knew himself.

“You wanna ask something.” Manny guessed. “Just go ahead and ask it.”

He shrugged. “I guess I was curious what it felt like with you and mom. How did you know you two were mates and not just...attracted to each other or something.”

“I’ll be honest. I didn’t actually know at first. You hear those stories about first meeting and it being instantaneous, but it isn’t really. It’s a lot like falling in love for the first time. I saw her and I was tongue tied. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I didn’t find out we were mates until her mother passed.”

“How come?”

“When you’re a mated pair eventually your emotions become linked in a way. Specifically pain. Physical. Mental. There’s a catalyst that sparks it. That’s when you’ll know. It’ll probably be the most painful thing you’ll ever go through. The good news is it’ll come with a lot of beauty afterwards.”

He looked back down and shook his head.

“I was just asking. Not like I’m gonna be mated anytime soon. Got the pack to think about.” He mumbled.

“Sure thing kiddo, sure thing.”

***

Traveling with non-wolves is always a pain in the ass. They can’t move as fast, and even if he shifted to be able to carry them, there was no way to communicate. He usually hated it, hated anything that limited his ability to move and be free. Somehow he doesn’t hate this, and that just confuses him the way that everything has lately.

Part of the defense plan for the town was to visit all of the cut off parts of their territory and set up some charms and general hocus pocus shit to hopefully help figure out what the hell was trying to invade his town. Obviously Edna wasn’t quite up for day long journeys anymore. So, it was just him and Athena. It hadn’t even occurred to him to invite anyone else from the pack along, he just told them he needed everyone at home in case something happened. But a part of him, and that part was growing every time she tripped over everything she came across and immediately refuse to let him carry her, knew why he didn’t want anyone else around.

They were friends now. Like actual, genuine, friends. And he kind of loved it. She was so fucking funny and wicked smart. She never took any of his shit and spent most of her time making fun of him. Her sense of humor was inappropriate as hell. He loved every bit of it. That within itself wasn’t a problem. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with their friendship. The problem came when she would laugh and his heart would skip a beat. The problem was every time she complained about the outdoors and it didn’t irritate him at all, it only made him feel softer. The problem was that he had deep, genuine feelings for her and there seemed to be no getting around them.

They camped out in the woods right off of one of the hiking trails because Athena couldn’t do the walking for twenty-four hours straight that he could. She had made a fire with nothing but her hands, her ability to manipulate the elements coming very much in handy. She sat there next to the fire in an oversized sweatshirt pulled over her knees, and it just hurt to stare at her. He kept trying to keep his thoughts under control around her only for her to stare up at him with those soft lips, those beautiful eyes. And he was just meant to not notice at all?

“I wanna ask you something.” She hummed at him after they’d finished their dinner of fire roasted pizza.

His whole body locked up.

“Y--yea? What’s that?”

“Do you think you’ve ever been in love before?”

Shit.

His cheeks heated immediately and it had nothing to do with the fire. He couldn’t make eye contact and he knew his heart was racing in his chest. Even he could read the nerves coming off of him in waves. It must’ve been easy for her to read.

“Love? I--I’m not sure. I’ve had really great, really important relationships before. I’ve told a few women that I loved them. But, I usually reserve the concept of being in love with, what my parents have and I’ve definitely never had that before.”

She smiled at him. His heart rate increased.

“I met them when mama introduced us. They are very complex beings emotions wise. I could read them so easily. They felt so many things at once: comfort, sincerness, kindness, all of that. But no matter what they were saying, there was always an undercurrent of love. They felt it for each other endlessly and relentlessly. I thought it was really beautiful.”

He nodded softly, happy that he could at least be open and honest with this, could let his emotions run wild with what he’d grown up around.

“It is. They’ve known each other since they were twenty. My dad went on a trip to London because he was twenty and dumb and thought that a werewolf in london was too good an irony to pass up. He met her the first day,and they spent his whole trip there together. When it was time for him to leave, he begged her to come to Pickering with him. She told him was crazy. He told her he’d convinced her. Again, she told him he was crazy. I was born a year later.” He smirked.

It has the intended effect that that story always gave. She cooes and aww’s and smiles, and he just wants to kiss her already.

“Well that’s sweet as shit. You’ve got some big shoes to fill, Mendes.”

He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Haha. Funny. Why do you ask anyway?”

This time it’s her turn to give the deer caught in the headlights look. Her habits are a bit different than his, but he’s been spending so much time with her lately that they all sort of click for him. Her knee bounces at an abnormal rate. She hides her hands away, this time in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She peers down at the ground and then back up at him from beneath these eyelashes that cause him nothing but trouble.

“No reason. I was just curious.”

“Okay. Have you ever been in love before?” He asked.

She shook her head softly. “I thought I was before. I’ve loved a lot people who didn’t really love me back. But, that soft shit your parents have? I don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”

“Well, why not?” He pushed, almost stubbornly. “Everyone’s worthy of love, Athena.”

“I know. I know that, but that stuff you only read about, that’s a one in a million chance type stuff, Shawn. I’m not losing sleep over it. I don’t need some earth defying romance. I’ll be okay.” She snorted.

“Yea, alright. Sure. I’m gonna...go get more firewood.”

He hopped up from his seat moving to put distance between the two of them. She gave him a strange look but he didn’t stay long enough for her to ask questions.

*No one’s point of view*

Shawn flicks off to the forest to pull at branches and thinking stubbornly about his emotions. Meanwhile Athena sets up their sleeping bags in the tent and struggles to get comfortable. She spends a long while thinking about the look on Shawn’s face. He had felt frustrated, fed up. Hurt even. And she didn’t know why. She never knew why, and it was driving her slowly insane. She liked him. Why the hell did she like him so much? And why wasn’t he like everyone else, why couldn’t she read whether he liked her back?

She kept catching glimpses of things that made her think it might be possible. A rush of warmth in his belly. Utter elation and happiness when they were together. But it always felt circumstantial. They’d be doing something he loved, or just having fun in general. And to be honest Shawn was such a happy go lucky guy in general, he seemed to be the type to say I love you to a really good burger. It never felt like enough. And it wasn’t like she ever caught him feeling love. He was so stupid. This is so stupid.

God she was so stupid, Shawn thought. Women. Oh how he missed the days where girls had cooties and he could just play on the monkey bars. Back when things made sense! Here he was, heart on his sleeve, pining after this woman and she didn’t even want him. And how fucking dumb was he to think that they could possibly, in some universe, actually be mates? Of course they weren’t. Just because she didn’t hate his guts all of a sudden didn’t mean she was gonna fall in love with him.

The wind starts to pick up and he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up like a storm might be on the horizon. So, he heads back to the campsite in case Athena gets cold as the temperature begins to drop. He’s still a wounded.

Neither of them speak as Shawn crawls into the tent. He tugs off his shirt and tosses it besides his sleeping back as he crawls inside. Athena rolls her eyes at the ceiling. What reason was there possibly to take off one’s shirt in this cold ass weather. It was like he was teasing her at this point. Shawn laid on his back, arm tucked behind his head as he peered over at the girl who hadn’t left his heart alone since he’d met her.

“Are you okay? It gets cold up here at night.” He whispered.

She bit awkwardly at the inside of her cheek. “No. I’m freezing.”

He sighed. “That’s my bad. I should’ve warned you about that. Here, come here.”

She peered over at the boy who hadn’t left her heart alone since she’d met him.

“Excuse me?”

I’m like a hundred and two degrees on a slow day. I’ll keep you warm. You won’t even need the sleeping bag.”

It was a total recipe for disaster. Snuggle up with the guy she most definitely had feelings for? But it was cold. And Athena didn’t do cold. She thrived in straight tropical temperatures, and had somehow ended up in canada. It was a travesty really.

“Are you sure?” She mumbled, fingers peeking out hesitantly from her blanket.

“Of course, I am. I wouldn’t leave you to freeze. C’mere.”

It’s the closest they’ve been since he found her unconscious in the woods. She settles herself on top of him, or at least she tries. There’s an awkwardness as neither of them quite know how to move their bodies with each other. She doesn’t want to smother him, and he can’t quite tell her that he’d happily die that way if given the option, so all he can do is tug at her hips until she falls gracelessly against him.

She groans softly. “Christ, you’re warm.”

“Told you.” He mumbled tucking one of her curls out of her face.

She peered up at him from his chest and they’d never had their faces that close together before. She smelled like campfire and sandalwood and something sweet. He smelled like campfire and musk and something warm.

“You are so odd, Shawn Mendes.”

He chuckled fingers diving in to play with another curl.

“Why is that?”

“You storm off into the woods like some moody teeanger because I don’t see any showstopping romance coming my way? And then you just crawl in here with your dumb doe eyes and your dumb six pack and start playing with my hair? Why? Why are you this way?” She ranted.

“I’m a moody teenager? You’re absolutely oblivious! Oblivious, do you know that? Your cheek bones are dumb.” He huffed taking her face in his hand and caressing her bottom  lip with his thumb. “And your full lips are dumb. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

It provides a clarity that rocks her to her very toes. It’s like he had been purposely keeping just enough puzzle pieces to himself so that she couldn’t see the picture. Suddenly she could see it with startling clear eyes. The warmth in his stomach. The adoration and all of the nerves. They were all for her. All of it.

She feels his determination before she feels his kiss. But oh does she love his kiss. His lips are warm against her cold ones, soft but firm. She can feel her jaw tense against the palm of his hand as he curves it against her cheek. His other hand smoothed down to her back and beneath her sweatshirt, tangling in the fabric until she felt his touch on the small of her back searing and hot. Suddenly it feels like she’s breathing for the first time. Like simultaneously he’s breathing life right into her lungs while it also feels like he’s taking it all away. She’d happily give it all away.

Kissing her feels like sunshine. It feels like warmth and softness and cocoa butter. It feels like something to get lost in, something that has no use in fighting because it could so easily overpower him. Her lips completely capture his own, and he doesn’t feel like he’s in charge even though he’s the one who kissed her. He feels like his heart is exploding and beating a new all at once. He knows it then. Without the need for any pain, or folklore, or history book. She’s completely and utterly his everything right there. It’s instantaneous. It’s immediate. It’s all consuming. And he’s not fighting it once so ever.

“Why the hell did you make me wait that long?” He growled nipping his way down to her throat.

She moaned and it made his hips buck beneath her.

“I--I couldn’t read how you felt. And it scared me. F--Fuck your teeth are sharp.”

He immediately retracts his mouth peering down at her with nervous eyes, all of his confidence vanishing. It reminded her of the story her mama had told her of not wanting to scare people with his fangs as a child.

“No, good sharp Shawn. Very good sharp.” She assured him and tugged him in again.

“Are you sure? Are you sure you want this?” He mumbled rubbing his nose against hers.

“I’m sure. Come here. Please.”

She doesn’t go to bed cold that night.

***

*Athena’s point of view*

The next morning is full of loaded glances and awkward smiles. He turns his back respectively as she pulls on a new shirt for the hike back down. He catches her staring when he goes to do the same. She pretends that her cheeks don’t warm when he catches her, and thanks god for the melanin. They pack up their camp and prepare to leave. The first time, for what are sure to be many, she trips over a rock he finds the guts to hold her hand. His fingers are warm intertwined with hers, and it feels so fucking high school and so overhwelming and perfect all at once.

“Why don’t you just...let me lead you down this time, aye? Don’t want you getting hurt.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, big guy. I’ll let you protect me, if it makes you feel better.”

“The sooner you recognize that all those powers of yours will do you know good the second you hit yourself in the head with a rock and bludgeon yourself, the better. There are somethings I can do better than you ya know?” He taunted.

“I’m a little clumsy, so what? I’m supposed to have you carry me down the mountain in your big strong arms?”

He grinned. “If you want, honey. Just say the word.”

Dumb. So dumb.

They scale down the rest of the path together in search of her car with their fingers intertwined. Her mind is still a little blown. She ran her fingers over neck where his five o’clock shadow had rubbed her. She could still feel where his teeth had nipped at her jaw, and the way her thighs tightened. More than anything she could feel the way her stomach had felt like it was floating. How he had made her feel light and open and happy. God.

At the car, they stuff her trunk full, and when he closes it he wastes zero time pressing her gently into the side. She didn’t know she could miss the feel of his hips against hers until she had it again.

“Could I uh drive home with you? I’ll shift and run home from there.” He whispered.

She smiled softly. “How come you wanna come home with me?”

He rolled his eyes and rolled his neck playfully before hiding a chuckle into her neck. It feels so good to be with him in this way.

“I don’t wanna say goodbye yet, okay? I’m just not ready.” He admitted. “Is that okay?”

“Me neither.” She tells him quietly. “Please come with me.”

“Yea? Can I kiss you again first?”

“I think I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

God they were so dumb.

The drive home is spent listening to the radio and holding hands on the center console. It’s easy. So incredibly easy after all the time they spent fighting and disliking each other. She doesn’t have to be afraid anymore. It’s like a huge weight off her chest, and all that she’s left with is this thing that is new and exciting and comforting. He sings in her ear and it makes her heart feel warm. He just is there and it’s so intoxicating. She doesn’t know how to contain herself. She doesn’t want to let it go.

“I think you should let me take you out.” He murmured.

She peered over at him from the road with a playful grin on her face.

“Yea? Where are you gonna take me? The diner?”

“Noooo. Girl, I’ve got moves you haven’t even seen yet. Things you can’t even imagine!”

Athena found this to be particularly funny. Shawn did not.

“Moves! You’ve got moves, aye?!”

“Keep on laughing at me and you will get none of this loving, do you hear me? None of it.”

She keeps laughing, peering from the road to the face of this adorable ass idiot. One second it’s just them and the road and everything is fine. The next, she peers back from his face to the road and there’s something there.

“Shit!”

She slammed on the break, jerking the wheel to the left to avoid the blur of brown moving into the road. Shawn’s arm is suddenly there across her stomach like a shield as they spin out against the road. Her heart slams just as aggressively against her sternum, and she gasps as her fingers lock against the steering wheel. The car jerks again until stopping in the middle of the road.

“What the hell was that?!” She screamed, dazed and confused.

“That was a wolf. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked reaching across the console to touch her face.

She nodded hesitantly. “I’m okay. I’m alright.”

“Okay. Just wait here. I’ll be right back!”

“Shawn, wait--”

He threw himself for the car peering over at the space where the animal had been. He was only out there for a few moments before he began tugging his shirt off in the middle of the road and running back to your car.

“It’s the scent! It’s the fucking wolf that’s been terrorizing the town. I’m gonna go after it. Drive back to my place. Tell whoever is there. I’m gonna follow it.”

“W--Wait. Shawn, you don’t even know who that is. Maybe we should just drive back together!”

He shook his head. “Sweetheart, we can’t risk it. I’m gonna be fine. Listen to me, okay? I’ll be fine. Just go.”

“But...But Shawn!”

“Go!”

Her nerves are absolutely frazzled the rest of the drive back. She can’t stop thinking about what the hell Shawn could possibly be doing. And sure, he was an alpha; he was the alpha, but that didn’t mean he had any clue what he was up against. Whoever or whatever was out there had been masterly avoiding them for weeks. Now, all of a sudden they just plop straight in the middle of the road in front of them? What the hell were the chances of that?

She gets back to his house somehow without crashing and is barely out of the car before people are greeting her outside. It’s Brian, Jasmine, Connor, Zeubin, and Lily all having heard her tires screeching on the asphalt.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Shawn?” Brian asks.

She points out into the woods where she’s fucking hoping they can hear them and tries to explains without passing out. But, her heart is hammering in her chest, and something is telling her that this isn’t right. It doesn’t feel right.

“Okay. Jasmine, Zeubin, and Lily with me. Connor you stay here with Athena. We’ll go make sure everything is okay.” Brian ordered.

“Excuse me? Fuck that. I’m going too!” Athena challenged.

Brian’s eyes flashed gold, a sign of his betaness and general assholerly.

“You will stay here. All you’ll do is get in the way.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m more powerful than you. That is a fact. And I’m not sitting here like a fucking limp rag while you go out and defeat the bad guys. It’s my town to protect too. Now stop fucking arguing with me and let’s go!”

Everyone peers between the two of them, no doubt trying to figure out who has the higher rank, Shawn’s right hand man in the pack, or the most powerful witch in the town. She’s not interested in the time it’s going to take them to figure it out though, so she stalks off into the woods until everyone else follows.

“You can’t just go walking there! You’ll slow us down. You can climb on my back when I shift and I’ll take you.” Connor offers.

She smiles at him. And they say maturity comes with age. Not always.

The rest of them must decide for themselves that she’s not taking no for an answer, because they all spring into action. She watches them shift and it’s a little more unsettling than she cared to admit. Suddenly she’s surrounded on all sides by wolves that are taller than her head on all fours. Except for Connor who quickly barks and kneels down in front of her. The kid standing before her just minutes ago could have never taken all of her weight on his back. Now, she feels tiny climbing to nestle herself in his fur. Her fingers dig into his fur for something to grab onto. He barks at her and at first she thinks she hold on too tight, but as soon as he begins to move she realizes he’s asking her to grab tighter.

As a group they all tear into the woods. She keeps her face hidden in Connor’s fur to ignore the blur of trees that was sure to give her whiplash. Athena can only imagine that everyone is running based off of smell, of Shawn’s scent. She on the other hand is going strictly off fee. Something had changed the moment he kissed her. She could send him even now, even while they were apart. At her prime that wasn’t something that she could do with other people. Maybe a few feet away, but nothing this great of a distance. She could feel every emotion going on inside of him and they were miles apart. It didn’t make any sense.

Just fucking wait for me, she thought to herself. She can feel his confidence, tilting a little over the edge of cockiness. There’s this straight edge focus that comes with being the alpha, along with this crippling need to protect. The wildest thing about it all is that underneath all of those emotions, she can feel love. She knows that it’s love because it’s almost like a color in her mind. A brightness that shines through all of the other emotions running through him like a current. Only now, his emotions are no longer hidden from her. She can see what’s behind them. And it’s her. He’s thinking of her even now, even in the middle of a fight. And he’s thinking of her with love.

And that’s when it happens. One second she feels elated, overcome with emotion. And the next she’s in pain. Like heart stopping, blood curdling pain. Hers fingers lock down on Connor’s fur and she lets loose a scream that rips through her chest and out into the world. It’s the most painful thing she’s ever felt in her life. It feels like a hole is being punched through her chest, like someone is trying to rip her heart out. Tears pour hot and fresh from her eyes and she nearly loses herself on Connor’s back. She only knows that it’s not her because she feels that she’s linked to him, tethered so tightly that the bond between them feels taunt enough to snap. It’s him. He’s in pain.

“SHAWN! SHAWN IS IN TROUBLE!” You sobbed.

There’s a chorus of whimpers amidst the whooshing of the air against the trees. And then suddenly they’re all moving faster. The closer she gets to him the more his pain resonates within her And the more it does the more she begins to feel hot. The pain is searing and it’s bone deep, with a heat that begins to boil in her gut alongside it.

They make it through the woods and into the clearing and she practically tumbles off of Connor and onto the grass.

He’s there. She can tell it’s Shawn because of the shade of his fur, a chestnut brown close to his own hair color. The pain now is rippling hot in her. There’s another wolf on top of him that seems to take a bite out of his shoulder. Shawn lets out a wild bark that leaves her crying into the dirt. The other wolves run to intervene, but the wolf on top of Shawn is massive. And it looks nothing like everyone else. It’s hair is dark and matted. And its eyes are a sickly yellow color. When it bares its fangs, its teeth are sharp and yellow and huge, and Athena realizes where she had seen an image like it before. In one of the books her grandmother had shared with her for her training. That wolf was feral.

The wolf sinks its teeth into Shawn again before, Brian and Lily run head first to pull him off. As the others engage in battle, Shawn is left whimpering with these sad little mewels. It’s bad, she knows enough to know that it’s bad, can feel enough to know it’s bad. Her fingers dig into the dirt as she pressed her forehead into the earth and took a deep breath. There was a need for her to make it all better somehow. She felt a raw energy that was trying to climb it’s way out of her. One second she was just feeling all of Shawn’s pain and the next she just made a decision to end it.She works to visualize it in her mind, an outline that surrounds him on all sides in bright red. It’s just as unwavering as she could imagine, and it took so much out of her to even reach out and took it. She gritted her teeth and tug deep into the ground as she flexed a power that she’d never used before. Shawn’s whimpers died down almost immediately, and instead it was her who was left panting on the ground from the exertion.

When she came to, Connor was kneeled before Shawn nuzzling his head against the much larger wolf in an attempt to keep him company. But the other wolves were in the thick of a fight and it didn’t look like it was going well. The feral wolf was bigger than all of them, just smaller than Shawn, but more aggressive and less calculated. It was all brute force. Everytime one would launch themselves at it, the wolf would just slam them back. It didn’t look like it was three on one at all. Her connection to Shawn is now two fold. She can feel the anxiety and the fear for his pack, which translate into her own fierce need to protect. When the feral wolf throws Brian so hard into a tree that it snaps and falls over, Shawn howls and struggles to his feet. He can’t put any weight on his legs though and quickly falls over. All that he can do is bark and howl, and the frustration of this is enough to leave her feeling like she must do something.

She loses herself in it so quickly. Consciousness slips and all that she can feel is the power radiating from her fingertips. The air around them stills. The trees go silent. Her body ascends from the ground as the earth begins to shake from beneath her wrath. The wind that was nonexistent before comes roaring back, and her chest gets this odd sense of calmness before she lets lose another shocking scream as she directs all of her energy, all of her magic, all of everything that she is directly at the wolf. And then it all goes black.

***

Her head hurt like a bitch. That was the first thing she remembered. Her eyes fluttered open and the light in the room was so bright that she decided to just close them again. It felt like a long time before she opened her eyes again. This time when she did it was her mama standing over her with a washcloth pressed to her head. It was the washcloth that made her think of Shawn, and she immediately went to sit up only to get a whoosh of vertigo that sent her right back down to the bed.

“Lay back, girl. You’re exhausted.” She murmured pressing the cloth to her forehead again.

“Shawn, mama. W--Where is he?” Athena whimpered.

Edna rolled her eyes. “He is taking up all the space on my perfectly good couch. Something about not being able to be away from you. I take it you two finally figured out your mates then?”

“Mates?!”

“Woops.” She chuckled. “You’re mates, alright? All that frustration you were feeling, all that anger? Probably had more to do with the fact that you were fighting some very inevitable feelings than anything else. I meant it when I said it was your destiny.”

“But...But, if you knew we were mates why didn’t you just say something?”

“Because where’s the fun in that?” She snorted. “I can’t tell you nothing Athena. You have to learn your own way, and from what I hear about your little stunt in the woods, it worked.”

“What happened? I can’t remember any of it.”

“You got your active powers that’s what happened. You were able to manipulate the elements to basically create a giant tornado that knocked enough space between all of them. You saved their lives, child.”

“Me? I did?”

“Mhm. My baby.” She grinned playing with the blankets that were tucked around her. “There’s something I need to tell you though.”

“Okay, what is it?”

Edna sighed. “That wolf that attacked you all, the wolf that was responsible for the killings? That wolf was your daddy.”

“W--What? But you said...you said he ran away after my mom left town.”

“And he did. But remember when I taught you about feral wolves? The consequences for leaving one’s pack, for going without one’s mate, can lead to it. H--He wasn’t even himself anymore, baby. He hadn’t been in his human form for years and years. He probably didn’t even know what he was doing; he just felt pulled to this place because of everything that happened here.” She explained.

Athena picked anxiously at her blanket, eyes welling up against her will.

“Did I . . . Was it me?” She whispered.

Edna quickly leaned over and gathered her granddaughter up in her arms as the sobs began to rock her body jerkily.

“Shhhh. It wasn’t you, sweetheart. I swear.”

It felt weird to get emotional over a man she had never met. Her mother had only spoken good things about him when she was growing up, even though he hadn’t been able to come with her. She had only even seen him in pictures. Even as a child she’d been able to feel the love her mother had for him. As an empath it was her first glimpse at what that kind of love could feel like. And somehow she couldn’t help but feel like she’d played some sort of hand in taking it away.

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes into her crying spell. And it is amazing how instantly she can feel him there, on the other side of the door. In her heart she knows he’s there for her, just as the need back in the woods had consumed her to be there for him.

“You want me to let him in?”

She sniffled and nodded allowing her grandmother to kiss her forehead before she got out of the bed.

The door opens and the second she hears his voice, her heart calms.

“H--hey I’m sorry, I just couldn’t--”

He peers over Edna’s head and makes eye contact with Athena. He sees her tears and has to stop himself from moving around Edna. She can feel that

“Hi. Can I please come in?”

It’s a request for him just as much as it is for her. He needs her to feel better, because it’s the only way either of them are gonna feel better.

Edna left the two of them alone and he immediately crawled into bed beside her. When he took her into his arms it was immediate relief. Her face took refuge in his neck as the tears burned her eyes but he was there. There was so much to talk about, so much to learn. But, for now, this is all that they have and it’s all that they need. Just the comfort of each other. Nothing else.

***

Six months later

*Shawn’s point of view*

“We are going to be late.” She giggled.

“Mmm...just a few more minutes, baby please?”

His lips traced lines along her neck and trailed up and down her cleavage. This was his happy place. His oasis. His heaven even. Why on earth would he ever leave?

“You know I hate making your mother wait.” Athena whined while still arching her back to push her chest closer to his mouth.

“Mhm. Of course.”

“You know I can feel when you’re lying right?”

“Stop using my emotions against me! It’s not fair.” He grunted teeth finding a new patch of skin to latch onto.

They were thirty minutes late to Sunday dinner. It wouldn’t have been a problem if his shirt hadn’t been buttoned wrong, and his dad hadn’t caught them on the porch not wanting to go in if they could kiss some more instead. You win some, you lose some.

Sunday dinners had become much more enjoyable with her in attendance, and not just because she let him kiss her in his childhood bedroom while his parent’s cleaned the dishes. In the time that it had taken them to come to terms with being mates they had adjusted with incredible ease. The strongest witch in town and the alpha. It was kind of a duo. An incredible duo at that. And it certainly helped that they loved each other more than anything in the world, in a way that was so vast and consuming that it could sometimes feel overwhelming. The good news was he had this amazing person to lean on, and who actually understood him better than anyone ever could. She made his heart soar.

He cornered her in the kitchen after dinner, arms wrapped tightly around her waist so he could hide his face in her braids. He was just as obsessed with her now as he’d been the second he figured out they were mates. Perhaps even before. Definitely before.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me when you come to dinner with me.” He breathed.

She hummed softly. “I think I do actually. Just a little bit.”

“Funny. You know...it might be a lot easier to get us to these dinners if I didn’t have to go to Edna’s to pick you up every time.”

Her fingers inched underneath his shirt to draw shapes that made his knees weak somehow.

“Just what do you suppose I do? We’d get here a lot quicker if you weren’t so handsy.”

He peered down at her and rested his forehead against hers.

“Maybe if you moved in with me, I could learn a little time management.” He grinned. “What didn’t feel that one coming did you?”

She head buts him playfully, her full lips forming quite the gasp. The things that she did to him. He was so gone.

“You want me to move in with you and a bunch of messy wolves, aye?” She smiled.

He shook his head. “Want you to move in with just one messy wolf. There’s a guest house on the property. It’d be just you and me.”

Her eyes got all wide and her lips made this small little “o” that honest to god was the cutest shit he’d ever seen. Surprising her was his greatest accomplishment.

She bit her lip. “Just us?”

“Just us. What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course, yes! Are you kidding me? Yes.”

She hops up into his arms crashing their lips together passionately. It felt like a really important step to building their life together, to creating something sustainable for the two of them. She had caused all of his goals and his needs to change so drastically in such a small amount of time. He only wanted her happiness, her safety, her pleasure. It was all that mattered to him. And he could always rest easy knowing that she would feel the exact same way about him. They were all that mattered now.

The End.

A ko-fi would really be lovely as I’m poor tbh lol. 

taglist: @simpledomain @liliane106 

[budzdorovanatasha]

“What’s wrong babe?”

Natasha awoke to your body writhing around in your shared bed. She sighed, waiting for you to jolt up from your nightmare. She didn’t mind being woken up by you, or helping you when you woke up screaming, but she didn’t like seeing you in this kind of pain. She waited a few minutes, but you had calmed down, and so she scooted closer to you and wrapped her arms around you, ready to fall back asleep. She didn’t get that though, because you woke up with a small groan.

“Y/N? You alright?” Nat asked. You groaned in response, and let out a small cough. That made Natasha pause. She rewired her thinking quickly and decided instead to listen to how you sounded.

“What’s wrong babe?” she probed you again.

“Nothing,” you sighed. Natasha cocked her head slightly.

“You’re congested Y/N. You’re sick,” she stated knowingly. You groaned in response. You did NOT do well with being sick. To clarify, it was more that you didn’t do well with admitting what you perceived to be weakness. It was something Natasha had been trying to help you with for a long time, and you were making slow but steady progress. At least now you would let her stay with you while you were sick. Nat left the bed just then, prompting you to let out a small whine. She chuckled from somewhere near the table across the room, and came back moments later with a glass of water for you. You hummed your thanks as she waited until you sat up to hand it to you. The water felt good on your throat and you coughed to try to eliminate whatever what bugging it.

Natasha had come back to her side of the bed and waited until you set the glass down on the nightstand beside you to pull you into your arms. Only, you were pulling back out a moment later so as to not sneeze on her.

“Bless you,” she murmured as you laid back down in her arms. “Get some sleep Y/N.”

You woke up the next day to an empty bed, which put you in a slightly grumpy mood.

“JARVIS, where’s Natasha?” you asked the A.I.

“I’m afraid she’s been called on a mission,” he promptly responded. “She asked you if Steve could come check on you.”

“No,” you adamantly responded. The A.I. understood what you wanted and left you alone for the rest of the day. You had fallen asleep somewhere around 6pm, denying dinner from JARVIS. Natasha quietly entered your shared room around 7pm, food in hand. She let a smile fall on her lips as she saw you sleeping peacefully, but went to wake you up anyhow. You needed sustenance, and you had refused several things from the A.I. throughout the day.

“Nat!” you gasped in surprise upon being woken up by her, and prompts flung your arms around her.

“Someone’s feeling needy,” she chuckled. I brought you something to eat. You pouted slightly at hearing that, but when you opened it to find your favorite, you couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s what I was hoping to see,” she practically cooed.

Natasha wasn’t particularly soft, but she definitely was when it came to you being sick. It took a long time for you to be able to be comfortable with her when you were sick, and you hadn’t even reached full comfortability yet.

As awful as you felt, there was something all of the Avengers needed to attend that evening, and that was the annual ball. A lot of big donors and government officials attended the ball every year hosted by the Avengers, in reality, Tony. Everyone had to attend, no matter what. Some of you looked forward to it, and some of you hated it. You didn’t particularly have any feelings about the ball, but Nat sure did. She disliked the function for a multitude of reasons, but she wasn’t thinking about that right now. She was focused on taking care of you during the ball, since you surely wouldn’t even be focused on taking care of yourself. You always put the Avengers or Natasha first, never focusing on yourself. It’s why sometimes you got sick so bad, because you weren’t sleeping or eating or drinking enough water.

After eating, Nat gently pulled you into the shower with her, so that both of you could clean up before getting ready. She began to shampoo your hair, and you moaned with the pleasure. But soon you were pulling away as a sneeze wracked through your body. She was preparing to give you a blessing but you were already raising your cupped hands around your face to sneeze once more.  The force of it made you a little dizzy, and you swayed a little. Nat pulled you into her arms to steady you.

“Bless you,” she murmured, trying to get a read on whether or not you were okay to stand by yourself. You thanked her softly before meeting her gaze.

“Nat, I’m okay,” you reassured her. She believed you and lessened the intensity of her gaze, but still held you in her arms, if only to press gentle kisses to your cheeks and temples. After you had both showered, you began to get ready, doing your makeup simultaneously. Natasha had accidentally dropped her baking powder, causing it to fly everywhere. You immediately started giggling, especially as she had to step away to give a soft sneeze over her shoulder.

“Bless you,” you giggle, watching all the powder settle to the ground.

“Thank you babe,” she murmured, sighing at the mess on the ground. After asking JARVIS to send a robot in to clean the mess after you two left for the ball, you both quickly styled your hair and slipped into your gowns. Each year, without a doubt, you wore a princess tiara to the ball. You didn’t particularly like doing it, but the world had for some reason nicknamed you the princess of the Avengers. It wasn’t to make fun of you, they just thought you acted like a royal princess and should be treated like one too. And so everyone expected you to wear a tiara. The past two years, Natasha had started a tradition of placing the tiara gently on your head, followed by a kiss before you both headed downstairs. You liked that tradition, and didn’t mind it as much anymore.

“You ready for your tiara?” Nat asked sweetly. You nodded, and smiled as she placed it on top of your head. You blushed, and she kissed your forehead.

“I’m sorry I don’t get to kiss your lips this year,” she said with a slight frown. You apologized to her, but she lifted your chin until you were looking her in the eyes. She wanted you to hear this.

“Listen to me, Y/N, you don’t ever apologize to me for catching a cold, okay?” She had nothing but the upmost serious expression on her face, and you knew she meant business. You nodded, understanding. She appeared satisfied and took your hand, leading you down to the ball.

After the initial hello’s to everyone, and hugs to the teammates, you and Nat snuck off to a corner like you did every year. You sat there for a while before making your way to the bar. You occupied two of the last barstools available, and watched Natasha skillfully order drinks for both of you. You two are seated incredibly close, and neither of you would have it any other way. There’s only about three inches between each other.

“This has no alcohol,” you state to Nat as you taste your drink.

“I know,” she smirks. “You’re not having alcohol tonight.” You pout, but don’t really care because you can’t imagine getting drunk anyway. You duck your head down towards her, stifling a sneeze. She sighs. You get like this in public, hiding any sort of weakness that you can. It’s not the time to work on it though, and even she admits she’d be hiding her own sneezes if she had to at this kind of event. She blesses you quietly, subtly moving her hand to rub your thigh. You let a small sigh slip past your lips, making Natasha frown. Those little sighs that you would sometimes release after a particularly harsh sneeze would be the things that let her know just how bad you’re feeling.

The rest of the ball goes by with little to no issues, besides your sneezing, and towards the end of the night all the Avengers and their close friends gathered among chairs and couches that were all formed around a giant coffee table. This was the tradition every year. It’s how you all relaxed after the ball, when you just needed each other. You and Nat sat at one end of the couch. You were placed on the end, next to Nat, who was next to Steve, followed by Bucky. Clint sat in a chair to your right. Everyone mingled and made jokes, especially since a good portion of them had had a good amount to drink.

You spent a good portion of the time trying to stay awake, with Natasha’s hand calming you and almost lulling you into a dream-like state as she rubbed your thigh. You had a hand on her thigh too. You tended to be clingy when you were tired, on top of not feeling well. At the moment, some Avengers were taking turns trying to lift Thor’s hammer. As everyone was focused on Clint stretching, preparing to attempt to lift it, you took the opportunity to stifle a sneeze, brushing your head against Natasha’s shoulder. She turned her attention solely to you.

“Bless you babe,” she murmured in your ear, and pressed a kiss to your temple.  You kissed her shoulder in thanks, your nose starting to run. You sniffled, and with Natasha being so close, she turned to silently ask if you were alright. You nodded, and excused yourself to go to the restroom. Natasha’s eyes followed you as you went, before turning her attention to whatever Clint just said to her.

“Did you hear me?” he asked. She shook her head and apologized.

“I said, you’re amazing with her Nat.” She gave him a soft smile as a thank you, before his tipsy self was distracted by something else. She didn’t have long to wait to find something to do though, because she retook your place beside her moments later.

“Alright?” she questioned. You nodded, and watched whatever game the Avengers were now playing with mild interest. Ten minutes later, things were getting a little too crazy for the Avengers who were not as drunk as others, and half the group said their goodbyes, you and Natasha included.

You made your way back up to your shared room, Nat more assisting you with walking as you were falling asleep on your feet. She sat you down and you both removed your makeup. You assumed your body had hit a low exhausted point, because you sneezed twice with barely a breath in-between. Your girlfriend started blessing you, only for you to sneeze two more times.

“Bless you, bless you Y/N,” Nat frowned. She assumed the same as you in regards to your body reaching an exhausted point, because she had never seen you sneeze like that. You murmured a thank you before letting your hair fall down past your shoulders in beautiful waves. Even sick, Natasha still thought you were the most beautiful person in the whole world, and her staring at you made you realize that often. You chuckled upon seeing her face.

“What?” you asked, your voice thick with congestion at this point. Nat made a sympathetic noise, before standing up to change and grabbing your pajamas too. While she was rummaging around in the closet, you sneezed three more times.

“Bless you, bless you, bless you,” she murmured as she walked towards you, your pajamas in her hands. She came up behind you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before grabbing you a tissue from the box. You murmured another thank you as you blew your nose and then allowed her to help you out of your gown. Once changed she led you to the bed, pulling you gently down with her. You let out a couple of coughs. They were small but more congested sounding than before, Nat noted. She turned you on your side and then pulled you flush against her front. You hummed contentedly. After a few minutes you were both drifting closer to sleep, when you had the sudden urge to sneeze. Your body moved harshly against Natasha from the force, and she winced from how much it must have taken out of you. She waited to see if more followed, and another did.

“Bless you twice,” she murmured into your hair, before pulling away to grab you a tissue. You thanked her quietly and blew your nose. After that she pulled you back into her and traced circles on your side as you fell asleep. She pressed a kiss to your shoulder, knowing tomorrow you would probably feel much worse.

[doyelikehaggis]

landon x sebastian for the couple ask game, please

This was such an unexpected couple and I love it! I actually wrote them together in one of my fics before Sebastian even came into the show kahxjahxja. I can't wait to see these two eventually interact. Thank you for asking for them!!

Who hogs the duvet: Sebastian is just used to comfort, but never anything like a modern duvet, and it doesn't really occur to him that he's hogging it until Landon pulls it one night because, alright, he's used to not having any sort of blanket, but he's starting to like this one and it would be nice if he could have some of it. It's possibly the first time Landon really talks about his past in detail, and Sebastian wraps him up in both the duvet and his arms, whispering about never letting him feel like that again.

Who texts/rings to check how their day is going: Sebastian doesn't have a bloody phone, and it annoys the hell out of Landon, because he doesn't really go to the school, which means he's usually out wandering somewhere, sometimes outside of Mystic Falls, and Landon just kind of wishes it was easier to get a hold of him instead of being in the middle of a shift when he just pops up and scares the living daylights out of him.

Who's the most creative when it comes to gifts: Sebastian's version of a gift tends to be...interesting and certainly unique. Landon doesn't quite understand the fifteenth century, but every gift somehow manages to amaze him anyway.

Who gets up first: Sebastian. Sleep is less necessary for him, what with being a vampire and a slight fear after being desiccated for so long. So he stirs long before Landon does, though occasionally, it results in him accidentally waking too. "Word of warning, normal people nowadays don't get up until like twelve. Or at least ten."

Who suggests new things in bed: Sebastian. He has this sultry, alluring whisper whenever he suggests something that drives Landon crazy until he pulls him down and kisses him just to shut him up. Sebastian will murmur ideas into his neck until Landon's squirming and practically attempting to tear his clothes off of him, even if his hands are clumsy and Sebastian laughs fondly.

Who cries at movies: Both of them. Landon was surprised the first time they watched a sad movie together and looked over at Sebastian to find him crying. In retrospect, a movie where the guy watches the girl he loves die wasn't such a good idea. He fixed it by putting on Mamma Mia. It at least made him laugh and make a face at the music people enjoy nowadays.

Who gives unprompted massages: Sebastian. It starts off with a hand in Landon's hair the first time, then it just becomes a thing, even if Landon's perfectly relaxed.

Who fusses over the other when they're sick: Both of them. Landon is such a worrier, but he wasn't expecting Sebastian to be just as bad. Since Landon gets sick more, Sebastian fusses more, and Landon has to reassure him that common colds nowadays won't kill him like the sicknesses back in the fifteenth century might have.

Who gets jealous easiest: Old-fashioned, protective vampire boyfriend. I think that's all the answer required.

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: Landon manages to get Sebastian into some of the music he likes, though if asked, Sebastian would most definitely say that Landon has the most embarrassing taste.

Who collects something unusual: Landon, probably, because that boy is a little weird and needs more possessions.

Who takes the longest to get ready: Sebastian. Mostly because he's still adjusting to the modern era. Landon usually doesn't care in the slightest because it's always something to watch Sebastian pick through modern clothing, trying them on to figure out what looks the least...odd, according to him.

Who is the most tidy and organised: Landon's a bit of a mess, but he's still somehow the slightest bit more organised than Sebastian.

Who gets most excited about the holidays: Sebastian, because it's been so long since he was able to actually celebrate one. That's the same reason Landon isn't so keen on them, but with a couple convincing arguments and a gingerbread latte from the Grill, he's a little more in the holiday spirit.

Who is the big spoon/little spoon: Sebastian gets a little confused about it at first, used to being the big spoon, of course. But Landon suggests they switch for a night, just to see, and they both find that they like it. So they go back and forth depending on how they feel.

Who gets most competitive when playing games or sports: Landon is pretty laid-back when it comes to those type of things. Sebastian, on the other hand, is very much not. He likes a little competition every now and then.

Who starts the most arguments: Sebastian. He finds it amusing. Landon certainly doesn't when he has to convince Alaric and Caroline not to ban Sebastian from the school grounds, and that he definitely wasn't really going to eat that person.

Who suggests that they buy a pet: Neither of them. They're both individual messes, throwing a pet in there would turn into chaos.

What couple traditions do they have: Sebastian likes to take Landon out of town on Valentine's Day, whisking him away to some super beautiful, super romantic place, because Landon's never had a proper one before and Sebastian is a romantic.

What tv shows do they watch together: Most likely sitcoms of some kind, plus the odd vampire show here and there, because they find it amusing.

What other couples do they hang out with: Rafael and Ethan, Hope and Lizzie, Josie and Kaleb, MG and Kym

How they spend their time together as a couple: Landon does have to help Sebastian adjust to modern society, but it's actually quite fun for him if he's honest. Sebastian finds amusement in vamp speeding them to the tops of trees and buildings, and they'll just sit there, talking.

Who made the first move: Landon, which surprised both of them, but he's bold when he wants something and he's sure they want it to. Sebastian was just being all charming and smirky, and Landon has been pining for weeks, alright? He had to make a move.

Who brings flowers home: They both do every so often. The first time Landon does, he's nervous and jittery but very confident. It pays off. Sebastian surprises Landon at work with them. Landon refuses to count the one time that Sebastian vamped them out of town to a bloody meadow.

Who is the best cook: Sebastian's...a little confused on how to cook with modern food and technology. It's a good thing Landon knows how. Definitely Landon.