#like... I know the traditional meaning of a chaperone

[wingsyliveblogs]

And now, let’s continue the episode! Our next scene opens with...

...uhhh... whatever’s going on here?? King is doing his best, that’s what’s going on.

Eda’s looking very cool, but what’s she getting dressed up for?

Ah, that would explain it! 

In all honestly, I’m not entirely familiar with what a chaperone generally does at a prom, though? That being said, there’s a fair chance that it’s the exact opposite of whatever Eda’s going to do.

Also, King’s little baby apron is incredibly cute. 

grommentators.........

Oh, that poster is amazing. 

It appears that Gus has been forgiven for not interviewing King last episode, and they are now teaming up to provide grommentary commentary and wear sunglasses indoors! Truly, a feat only the coolest of dudes can achieve.

[howlingday]

Only Survivor Jaune: Jaune was questioning if becoming a Huntsman was even worth it anymore. First was the guilt of how a fraud like him was the only one that survived. The grief of the family members of those who died. The look of his peers when he attended class. Then there's the harassment of the people who blamed him. Could things get any worse?

Today had been exhausting, but it was nice to get his mind off... Well, you know. He'd been tasked with helping with the collection and the delivery of red sap from the Forever Fall. Professor Goodwitch acted as chaperone and helped him by gathering the jars he collected. He got a bit of a scare from rapier wasp but was able to swipe it away with his sword.

As he watched it fade away, he felt a sort of... power. Like he was able to take control of his life again. Granted, it was against something as small and insignificant as a single rapier wasp, but it was still more than he'd felt since making it into Beacon. Now he just had to survive bigger things, like... He shook his head. Baby steps.

Like the baby steps he was taking pushing this heavy cart of sap to the cafeteria. Professor Goodwitch had other, more important things to take care of with Professor Ozpin. What those things were, she didn't say, but they had to have been important if she left him alone. Right?

"Need some help?"

"Huh?" Jaune looked to his left and saw that rabbit-eared girl again. What was her name?

"You were pushing this so hard, your knuckles were turning white."

"Oh, uh, yeah." He stepped aside to give her room. "Thanks."

"No problem." She smiled, pushing the cart with him. "You're going to the cafeteria, right?"

"Yeah."

"How have you been enjoying Beacon? I noticed you haven't been to our classes recently."

"Oh, yeah, um..." He suddenly felt clammy between his fingers. "I had to be pulled from classes. I, uh..." He gulped. "I- I mean, they, like, the school thought I was- That the thing was-"

"It's okay. You don't have to explain anything to me." She said, not dropping her smile. "After what you went through, it's normal to not be ready for classes yet."

"Yeah." He sighed. "Wait, how did you know what happened?"

"Oh, well..." Her smile pulled back a little. "Beacon has this tradition of watching first years go through their initiation. But when a student... you know, the screen switches to a different student. After about the sixth student, all the screens went dark, and students weren't permitted to see anymore. But you made it through, right?"

"You... You saw..." Suddenly, the world got duller around him. There was a screeching in his ears and a distant mumble could barely be heard over it. Suddenly, he was back in the Emerald Forest, and everything was happening all at once. Limp bodies swayed in front of him, screams heard going over cliffs until his vision became dark and he saw her for a brief moment before an explosion blinded him. Then, something in the darkness grabbed him, pulled at him.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" He swung hard at the darkness.

A yelp was the response the darkness gave.

The world came back into view for him. Suddenly, he was standing over the rabbit-eared girl and she was covering her eye. He blinked as he noticed a slight pain in his hand, like he punched something hard. Suddenly, he remembered a blur that slowed down to reveal himself punching her.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorr-"

"Get the hell away from her!" Another blur happened, this time in the present, as something big and heavy crashed into his face. He rolled across the carpeted floor for a few feet, then looked up to see a girl with dark sunglasses and a beret snarling down at him. "What, you think you can just pick on her because she's alone now? Well, she's not, asshole! Now you've gotta deal with me!"

"Coco, stop!" The rabbit-eared girl called.

"No way, Vel! I'm letting this creep get another swing at you!" She held out her handbag, then dropped it. Jaune didn't know what she was packing inside but must have been bricks since he was out of breath when it crushed his chest. "Be grateful this is my normal purse, or I else you wouldn't be hearing me tell you to stay away from my friend!"

The handbag was lifted from his chest, and Jaune was left in pain on the floor. He looked up and saw the two girls walking around the corner. His eyes were too blurry from the tears to make out anything more distinct than their shapes. Then another shape came running towards him.

"Jaune?! Jaune, are you alright?!" Professor Goodwitch called.

"No." He groaned out. "No, I'm not."

[dieinct]

i know i could google it but i love to question american mutus, what's it really like in a frat ?

well like it's extremely variable. one of the primary things that makes frats scary and nonfunctional is the fact that at MOST schools, the frat is technically "off campus" housing which means that the university - while dependent on greek life to provide housing to students - has no or extremely limited legal control over behavior which happens in frat houses bc... it is "off campus". which is what leads to the kind of bad shit you hear about bc there's very little like... accountability. HOWEVER greek life at my school was 1. housed in dorms 2. at a school with a more liberal milieu, and also not an enormous part of campus culture - it was there if you wanted it but it wasn't the ONLY place to socialize, or the only kind of group housing etc, the way it is in some other more rural schools where that's sort of the only thing there is to do yk. also 3. it was a group that very much self-selected for people who cared about Living In Community who wanted a space that was not as traditionally "fratty".

i tend to feel it has much more in common with the way i've seen people describe coop housing than with other frat houses; we were a greek letter org with a national - but we are co-ed and legally distinct, though we still share songs and a history with the all-male org.

so for me "what was being in a frat like" well it was like living with a bunch of people who all agreed that we wanted to live together, drink responsibly together, and learn all the same drinking songs. together. which i think is not typically the experience for many people!

checked in with a college friend to see if this description held true to her perception also and she said "well housing coops don't ritualistically blindfold members" which i feel like is a big thing for her to claim. they might. i don't know that. anyway it was good and fun and we did not do Hazing except in to a degree that was entirely opt-in.

have these descriptions also: "[frat was] like kind of a traditional frat, kind of a religious community a little bit (in the way that frats are that) and kind of like coop housing for people who like movie nights. also kind of like attending city council meetings. a homeowners association for self destructive people. socialization daycare for computer science students. sleepaway summer camp but the kids and chaperones are the same age. and also the same people. [frat] is like the post-musical rager for high school students who played in the orchestra pit" (h/t @oddliestcatch)

[gabessquishytum]

Okay, admittedly I would love to see the fandom play more with the idea of Teacher!Hob where he's in charge of younger students. Like he works in a secondary education school and clearly has a lot of beef with 15-17 year olds bc the comedy potential is there!

He comes home after a hard day and ofc Dream is there to comfort him and listen, but he doesn't have a traditional day job like Hob does and has to imagine what a teenager could possibly do or say that sets his love off like that. Even if it's just a teenager calling him "my guy" or "bruh". He also has to keep his mouth shut when Hob starts complaining about how bratty the younger generations are when Hob clearly is the brat in the relationship.

He also needs to get used to having date nights postponed or canceled bc he needs to grade these projects, and the worksheets he gave out to bolster their grades which just ended up being double the amount of work lol. Dream ends up spending a lot of evening just kinda having to seethe from the couch as he watches Hon grade work that was clearly half assed when they were supposed to be having a romantic night out.

The piece de resistance is Dream coming around during Family Night or some other open school event that Hob has to chaperone bc some other teacher bailed on them and he'd rather have Dream there to keep him company as he runs around trying to keep students from setting the place on fire. But there he can see how much the students respect him for being kind and calm during moments where they definitely aren't and fully trying to help every kid succeed. They joke around and make fun of him because they're comfortable being themselves and look up to him. Though he wishes they would stop making fun of him and stick to Hob, bc teenagers are mean.

- 🤜 Anon

I also really jam with Hob as a secondary school teacher!! I think he’d HATE the curriculum. But I’ve looked closely at the papers he’s marking in episode 6, and they look a lot like high school tests to me. So there’s a solid basis to headcanon him teaching younger kids.

I love this because Hob absolutely would have beef. On the one hand he’s a cool teacher, he’s chill about music in class and letting the kids sit with their friends IF they behave themselves. On the other hand he can get pretty scary if he’s riled up. The general consensus is that Mr Gadling is cool, but don’t piss him off.

Dream secretly enjoys Hob’s stories from work. He tries not to go on too much because he doesn’t want Dream to think he’s boring, but sometimes he goes on a rant, or tells a long winded story and Dream gets this super soft look in his eyes. Hob also does stuff like supervising the debate club, and he definitely isn’t afraid to debate with some of the more confident kids. Or the teachers. Because he DEFINITELY has beef with some of the people in the staff room…

Honestly once Dream meets the kids, he doesn’t know how Hob handles being around teenagers all day. They’re mean!! And Hob just laughs and seems kind of proud that he’s being teased, like it’s a badge of honour? Truthfully Hob deserves a raise for all he tries to make life a little better and easier for his students. Dream decides he’s gonna do his bit towards supporting teachers, and give Mr Gadling a blowjob when they get home <3

(At school after family night, Hob gets so much shit about his “pretty boyfriend”. The kids generally agree that “he’s way out of your league, sir”.

And honestly, Hob agrees. He’s still glowing from last night <3)

[teecupangel]

A/b/o DesMal?? (Desmond x malik)

Okay, so this could be set in a Modern Day AU or Desmond gets booted into the Third Crusades but here are some of the things that would happen:

Desmond would obviously be mistaken for Altaïr unless they get closer and sniff him. That’s why, as weird as it sounds, anytime Desmond is mistaken for Altaïr, he just sighs and says “Come closer and sniff me”. There’s a lot of different reaction to that one.

We can go for the route of Altaïr and Desmond are twins or cousins. Or we can go for the route of they’re not related and this is a quirk of fates or some shit. (Even in the case of Desmond getting booted into the Third Crusades, Desmond would have to pick one of those choices because saying “he’s my ancestor and I’m a time traveler.” isn’t really an option)

Malik is one of the few people who can differentiate the two without having to sniff (Desmond) or be glared at (Altaïr). He doesn’t say it but that’s because he can always smell Desmond’s scent even before he should be close enough for Malik to see him.

Desmond smells like freshly baked sweet bread to Malik.

Malik smells like cotton candy to Desmond. He can’t really explain it but it’s not that Malik smells like real cotton candy but that’s the image that pops into Desmond’s mind when he catches Malik’s scent.

Malik isn’t an idiot, he knows this could only mean that he and Desmond were highly compatible and Desmond hasn’t been that subtle in checking if Malik was interested in him. Definitely not subtle enough since Altaïr could see it and would always have that pinched look on his face before leaving the room Desmond and Malik were in without even saying goodbye (which is rude).

He is also very much interested in Desmond, it’s just… he didn’t expect to actually find a mate himself. He had been uninterested for as long as he could remember and he had accepted that his younger brother would be the one to carry the Al-Sayf line (Although, really, he wished Kadar wasn’t so smitten by Altaïr of all alphas) so it takes a bit for him to accept that, yes, he and Desmond are compatible and, yes, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of being mates with Desmond.

Fated mates sorta exist in this idea in the sense that it’s a legend and there have not been any real records of it. The general consensus is that it’s more of the case of ‘you are fated mates because you both fell in love with one another and your scents are compatible’

Desmond would be moping during that time Malik is sorting his feelings since he’d take Malik’s silence as rejection and Altaïr has to be the one to suffer smelling the sadness from Desmond.

So when Malik started courting Desmond (all proper and traditional, complete with a mated chaperone in the form of Rauf (if this is during the Third Crusades) or maybe someone like Bayek or Ezio (if this is a modern day AU)), his biggest wall is now the fact that Desmond believed he’s courting him because Malik noticed him ‘moping’ and felt bad so this is… a pity-courting thing.

Malik should be offended but he knows he fucked up by being silent and it was such a dumb move that an idiot like Altaïr would have done (cue Altaïr’s offended face in the background as he snarks that he would have gone at full speed if it had been him, shut up Altaïr that's not any better!)

So now Malik has to show Desmond that he’s being sincere and that he wants a future with Desmond. Maybe even have a scene where it all comes to head and Malik blurts out how many kids he wants and Kadar is in the background just going “back it, brother! Too far!!!” but, jokes on them, Desmond is into that XD

So… I’ve been quite vague on whether they’re alphas/betas/omegas. The main reason is because I think this could work with any kind of combination you want and, honestly, Desmond and Malik could be alphas, betas or omegas if you want. I will say that I made Altaïr an alpha because part of the setup is that Altaïr is going to make Malik’s life a bit harder because he kinda adopted Desmond as his sorta sibling (if they’re not actual siblings in the setup)/child and the shit Malik did definitely deserves some sort of metaphorical punching. Kadar can be a/b/o, your choice. Also, just because Malik is the one courting doesn’t mean he can’t bottom if you want. That’s also the reason why their a/b/o status is vague.

[baatarthefirst]

I know someone else asked for a kiss prompt for Janaya, but can you do one for 38?

38...because they’re running out of time.

"Janai, you are the Queen, tell Karim to leave. Officially, we are two leaders in a private meeting."

"Amaya it's-ah, it's not that simple." Why was she even speaking, the woman was not paying attention. The human's lips had begun to trace her windpipe, her eyes not in the proper place to talk. It was clearly intentional. This called for desperate measures, Janai pushed Amaya to her back, and leaned pinned her down, "I have duties."

"You mean chores." Amaya rolled her eyes. Yes, in this case, they both knew chores was a more accurate phrase.

"Come out, Janai!" Karim entered her tent, but stayed on the other side of the privacy curtain. "You have to sing the morning songs." Ah yes, the traditional songs meant to keep the days moving and the seasons turning; such an outdated and silly task.

"Karim, don't be such a taskmaster. Khessa didn't sing them, neither did our mother, or our mother's mother. They took their morning tea to the tower and listened to the birds sing in peace; which is what I would like right now."

"Peace is not what you're after right now!" He huffed, "I know what this 'meeting' really is!"

"He needs a hobby." Amaya deadpanned after Janai mouthed his unseen words to the deaf General.

"He needs to find someone to warm his bed, so I might stay in mine a bit longer." Janai whispered with a growl.

"I heard that!"

"Good!

"If you don't come out by the count of ten, I'm coming in; no matter what state of dress you and General Amaya are in! One!"

"He's bluffing."

Janai knew he wasn't. After an adolescence spent with that brat chaperoning her dates, promising to leave them be then popping up at the worst time, she wasn't going to test him.

"I'm sorry, but he will come in." The Queen lamented, having no choice but to jump up, throw her unamused lover's over-tunic to her and make herself look somewhat presentable.

"Eight!"

"We'll finish this conversation later, alright?" Janai cupped Amaya's cheek and pulled in for a kiss. The last either of them would get that day.

"Ten!" He strolled in like he owned the place. Commander Gren came in behind him much more cautiously; ready to look away at the slightest hint of exposed skin.

"Good morning, Prince Karim." Amaya greeted cheerfully, no hint of amorous dealings, "I'm sorry for taking up so much of your Queen's time. Janai is a tough negotiator, and reaching a conclusion in which both parties are completely satisfied has taken longer than I expected."

Janai bit her tongue as Karim paled, his face twisting with revulsion. That would teach the little brat not to interrupt a private meeting...

[thegreatlibraryfangirl]

I keep meaning to make this meta post and then executive dysfunctioning my way out of it because it feels too big. So let's just start and see where it goes. I can always reblog it with additions later.

Khalila is an interesting Muslim to me, because she's not a stereotype. She's devout, and fierce about it, but she seems to choose which hadith she follows. (More on this in a sec)

I like to interpret this as a deliberate, highly reasoned-out decision but partially a reaction to what is either her upbringing, or the influence of certain family members. To explain my thoughts:

She's from Riyadh, which as we may remember from her hilarious put-down to Dario being racist/Orientalist/anti-Arab, whatever your buzzword is, is a modern, technologically developed city. This indicates certain things about history, which are backed up by the later discovery that the country name is still Saudi Arabia. So its history has been very close to that of our own, which in an absolutely tiny nutshell means that it was unified in 1932 by a member of the Al Saud family. The family had long been in alliance with the Wahhabi/Salafi movement, a reactionary movement largely against European colonialism/imposition of values, which leant hard into things like perfect adherence to the hadiths judged authentic and forbidding reasoning/logic being applied to which of these should be followed.

This is how we got to Saudi Arabia pre about 2017, with its incredibly powerful religious police, separation of men and women, women can't drive/travel anywhere alone/wear anything other than (black) abayas&niqabs or even burkas, stoning, etc etc.

Now, I don't know about you but when I first came across this information, my brain went straight to one particular scene: Khalila's Ink and Bone introduction.

In it, Khalila is being vigorously chaperoned by her uncle, Nasir:

"...when a man moved over to take a seat next to her. He was a rounded fellow, older, expensively dressed in traditional Arab robes ...The uncle gave Jess a warm smile, rose, and gave him a bow in return. It was all very civil, but he wasn't leaving the girl's side, that much was obvious ... the departure of Khalila's uncle. He clearly didn't like leaving his girl to the unwashed masses, but he went with good grace."

(This is also, through sheer elimination, probably the uncle who was a Library inventory for 30 years who she apprentices with, mentioned in S&I)

Khalila is not only chaperoned (the only one to be so) but is wearing a black hijab. Jess not mentioning any other colour makes me convinced that Khalila is actually wearing all black here. I think that she is doing this against her will, as in the entire series we never see her wearing black again after this (apart from adopting the explicitly English mourning custom for Morgan).

Adding this comment that Khalila makes about her uncle -

"Rough company," said Dario. "Unsuitable for an innocent flower like you." "You sound like my uncle. One can be innocent and not be ignorant, after all."

-- and I am claiming that at the very least, Khalila's uncle is a Salafi Muslim. I dither over whether the rest of Khalila's family is the same, since there's no evidence either way. Given that in our real life history, there has been a huge loosening of restrictions in Saudi Arabia from about 2017, I like the idea that her family in general are more progressive/lenient/different school of thought, and it's just Nasir who is a strict Salafi still. (Poor guy having fucking Rafa for a son.)

Other things that Khalila very quickly goes against that are mentioned or inferred here: being alone with unrelated men and touching the opposite gender. (Having a Christian boyfriend, even chastely, is ... that's a big can of cultural worms lol I'm talking about her being alone with, for example, Jess, and also freely doling out hugs and other physical affection). Hadiths and customs that Khalila does still adhere in the series to include the five prayers, wearing hijab, and calling both tattoos and alcohol haram.)

Anyway. I forgot my point. Basically, freed from the restrictions of her uncle and a religious movement that she clearly does not agree with, Khalila chooses her own way to be a devout and proud independent Muslim woman. Idk. I just love her.

[cat-s0ul]

Part 1. Jegulus’ courtship

James: Would you feel better if I met your parents first? I know my parents would love you. I mean, they already do. But at a formal meeting to meet my boyfriend thing, they would be so happy!

Regulus: James, you cannot meet with Walburga and Orion. You know that. She will kill you in a matter of seconds. Don't be ridiculous.

James: But I want to, you like traditions! That's why I want to court you as soon as possible!!! First I need your parents' approval, and you'll need a chaperone! I'll give you a gigantic amount of letters and romantic gifts!

Regulus: Why am I being courted and not you? Everyone will say that I should woo you rather than the other way around. Why am I entertaining this? This is foolish, we've already skipped all the steps. I don't need anyone's approval but yours to snog you. And stay away from my parents you fool.

James: you said you will meet my parents after a year together and start talking about us to our friends. Sirius is gonna be so mad at me for not telling. Oh. Oh! Sirius!! He is your older brother. He can give me his approval for the courtship. I bet he would forgive me for not telling with this. That's it. I am going to court you, Regulus Black.

Regulus: don't. I mean, you can tell them.

James: I’ve got to go, see you soon love!!

Regulus: Potter, come back!

[zozo-01]

It's their Big Night, but we can have fun too.

Happy New Years Eve everyone!!! This fic is apart of the Redacted Winter Gift Exchange ran by the amazing and lovely @the-sugar-crash!! Thank you so much for hosting this event!! And a big thank you to @taelonsamada for helping me through writer's block, @lostinanothersmemories for letting me use their headcanon of Darlin's nickname being 'fluffy' and to @sri-rachaa for beta reading this for me!!!

@starlight925, I hope you enjoy your fic!!! It's always fun to revisit my favourite non-canon couple!!!

CW: This is an David/Darlin' story, No Angel or Sam AU, surprisingly no angst considering who is being written ;-;

--

“Hey Tank! We wanted to ask if you could-”

“If this is about chaperoning the pup’s prom, then no. Do you want me to say it french? Trouver quelqu'un d'autre parce que non, je ne veux pas y aller.”

Asher knew that this task would be one of the hardest of his life. He's handled inter-pack politics, an onslaught of the most vicious empowered folk, and he has been blessed with the patience to navigate David’s temper. But holy hell, nothing could top this.

“I know this isn’t your thing, but pleaseeeeee! It would mean so much to the pups that their favourite tank wolf is thereeee!” He wore the best puppy eyes he can muster, a look that has made the most strong-willed people give into all of his desires. Or to get Gabe to sneak him another sweet treat without his parents realizing.

There was only one person with even more deadly puppy eyes than him, and they were standing in front of him.

Tank scoffed in disbelief. “If you think some sorry ass puppy eyes is gonna change my mind, then you better start begging.” 

For a split moment, Asher genuinely considered begging them to go. It had been tradition for the older wolves to attend the pup’s prom, just to make sure no shenanigans happened that night. And the shenanigans that do occur only do so after every wolf make sure the pups will be okay.

It was part of the reason why Asher wants them there so badly. Unfortunately, Tank had plenty of experience both doing and witnessing dumb teenagers doing dumb teenager things. Having them there would make sure none of the pups slip through the gaps of the older wolves’ piercing sight. Like hell they’d let a pup pass through without notice the same way they did.

He didn’t want to say that reason though, it makes him sound like he’s using their bad experiences to his advantage, and that is the last thing he wants. He wants them there because they’re them and they’re a wonderful presence to be around.

A lightbulb went off. Asher remembered that there was someone as desperate, if not more, then himself to have Tank be a chaperone.

“David’s gonna be there.”

Unnoticed by human ears, Tank’s breath hitched and their heart rate sped up for a quick second. It was just that, a quick second.

But for the poor darling Tank, Asher did not have human ears and a second in their change state was all he needed. ‘Hehe, got you right where I want you,’ he thought mischievously. 

“I sure as fuck hope David is going ‘cus how the fuck are you gonna get anyone to go if the big dawg ain’t going?” 

Asher's face beamed in a wicked grin. They were deflecting, and when Tank deflects, it means you’ve struck some nerve in them. There was a truth that they were desperately trying to conceal, and that was their everlasting and ever burning feelings for a certain Alpha.

Lucky for them, that certain Alpha was holding onto hope that they had felt the same.

And as Beta, it was duty to bring these two stubborn dumbasses together. After everything they’ve been through, they deserve to feel true and unbound joy with each other. All he had to do was convince the both of them to tell each other the truth.

Seems easy enough?

“Well, David said that he wants you there too! You’re pack and therefore, you need to be a part of pack traditions!” He flashed his trademark easy going smile and continued, “and besides, heard that David’s going all out for this event too.”

They raised their eyebrows. “Our David? Going all out for something that isn’t company related? You’re gonna have to tell me more buddy.”

‘Fuck yes! They’re curious and now they won’t stop until they find out! That’s another point for best Beta Asher!’

He lowered his voice as if he was revealing his own greatest secret. “David’s pulling out the suit, you know? The black one with the gold designs?” When Tank realized what Asher was talking about, their eyes widened by a fraction and they took a sharp intake of air. 

The suit in question was one that David wore at an industry dinner that was mandatory for everyone, including the pack’s beloved wayward wolf. He had worn a classic black suit that had gorgeous golden embroidery that adorned one half of the blazer. The whole outfit had shown off David’s well toned body. He exuded power and commanded attention from everyone in the room, and that included Tank’s.

Asher had later learned from his mate that after the dinner when they, Tank and Stealth had met up for some after party fun, Tank had confessed in a drunken stupor how much they adored David’s outfit. How they were ready to rip out the eyes of everyone in that room so they could keep that sight to themselves. 

If the outfit had that much of an effect on them, who’s to say it wouldn’t have that same effect again? And there is nothing that makes a person want to confess more than thick sexual tension choking them.

“I’ll…” They let out a sigh knowing they fell hook, line and sinker for Asher’s trap. “I’ll go, you bastard. But whatever you’re planning? It ain’t gonna work. There is no way in hell that I’m gonna let it.”

“Do you even know the plan?” “No, but you’re fucking planning something and that’s enough to keep me on edge.”

‘Typical Tank to think that there are nefarious plots being plotted against them.’ Sure their instincts were right that he was planning something, but that didn’t negate the fact that he wished they didn’t have to be this hypervigilant. Part of him hoped David could ease the desperate grip Tank has on control of their life.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll text you details later!” He ran off, ready to tell David the good news.

‘Now I just gotta convince him to wear that black suit without giving Tank away.’

--

“Oh hell fucking nah, you ain’t wearing that outfit to prom.”

“I’m with Milo on this, what the hell are you doing Tank?”

Despite many preconceived notions about them, they truly cared about how they appeared. 

Something, something, if they were going to die, they want to die pretty. 

It hurt Tank to wear such a boring outfit, but between not having the most… appropriate outfit for a high school prom and how they absolutely do not want to steal the show with their scars, they have relegated themselves to wearing a terrible outfit. Said outfit was a pair of black jeans, a hoodie and some nice shoes. It was nice, basic but nice.

Milo and Sweetheart were anything but basic.

He ripped the outfit from their hands and threw it onto their bed. “Tank, I know you can do better than that!” He walked over to their closet and rummaged through a number of outfits. He pulled out a red cropped and backless shirt. “See? This outfit is way better than the shit hoodie.”

“First off,” they started off while taking the shirt in Milo’s hand. “Don’t diss my hoodie. Secondly, who in the fuck would wear a shirt like this to prom?” They gestured to redshirt in their hand. “I’d get dress-coded before I make it to the hall and I’m not even a student!”

Sweetheart walked over to their closet and took a peak in. “What if you wore a leather jacket on top of that? That should keep it ‘appropriate’.” The stealth grabbed the first jacket they saw.

The jacket was a black leather one, slightly larger than the ones they own. It had laid untouched in their closet for a long time, years even. They don’t know why, but they were convinced that the jacket wasn’t theirs. Which is stupid, it had a similar style to their other black jackets. And sure, it was a bit oversized, but Tank was never opposed to a looser fit.

So where the hell did that jacket come from? And who did it belong to?

Milo snickered and said, “oh I know why Tank don’t wanna dress up.” He strained his arm so he could wrap it around Tank’s shoulders. “They don’t want David to see them all dolled up. Gotta keep that side of ‘em locked up!”

They pushed Milo’s arm off them with the sound of Sweetheart’s laugh echoing in the background. They tried to stutter out an answer, but each word that left Tank further incriminated them. 

Sweetheart patted them on the back. “It’s ok you know, having a crush on your Alpha.” They picked up the red shirt and black leather jacket off the ground. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be the hottest wolf in Dahlia. Now go show everyone why you’re the pack’s heartthrob.”

The wolf knew when the stealth says everyone, they specifically mean David.

Tank took the outfit from Sweetheart and kicked the other two out of their room. 

They were the Tank wolf of the Shaw Pack, they were one hot ass wolf and like hell they’ll let anyone intimidate them.

But their feelings for David Shaw might be the one thing that could scare them.

–

“They’re late.”

“It’s only been half an hour, they’ll be here.”

This is ridiculous. Here he was standing in the middle of the banquet hall, watching a bunch of sweaty and horny teenagers, in his fanciest outfit and the person he wanted to see hadn’t showed up. What was the point of putting on this jacket if Tank wasn’t going to show up?

Asher noticed the all too familiar impatient look on his Alpha’s face. “Look, they’re coming with Milo and his mate, and you know how they like to take their sweet time.” He put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “They’ll come.”

Asher’s reassurances doesn’t make up for the fact that the worst case scenarios are flooding David’s brain. Had they decided that the pack tradition wasn’t worth it? That he wasn’t worth it? Or maybe something had happened to them on the road. A car crash? Quinn?

He needed Tank to walk in this hall or so help him, he will shift and tear the city to the ground to find them and-

Asher's face lit up at the sight of Milo, his mate and Tank walking into the ball. “Well look who decided to show up! Took them long enough.”

David’s face relaxed seeing his wayward pack member face under the neon lights. Their eyes scanned the room, looking for suspicious people and exits. It’s a habit he’s aware of, but one he wishes they’d never develop. Wasn’t like he could blame them, the life Tank lived forced them to be hyper aware of every single little detail. It was their survival instinct, their way of protecting themselves.

Though he wishes that he can be their protection. That one day, Tank will never have to take a hit again because he’ll be there.

Their wandering eyes caught his stationary ones. Once Tank realized it was David eyeing them from across the room, their face relaxed and a small smile appeared. A smile that was made more beautiful by the bright lights surrounding them. Though nothing outshined them. In David’s mind, nothing could ever outshine Tank.

The newly arrived trio pushed past the awkward teenagers on the dancefloor. A few of the pack pups stopped the older wolves and stealth to thank them for chaperoning. The trio finally made their way to the Alpha and Beta, ready to receive their assignments.

“Thank you all for volunteering your time, though it would be appreciated if you came on time.” What? He could be a little salty about them taking forever and giving him a heart attack.

Milo scoffed at David’s comment, while Sweetheart and Tank snickered. “David, you can’t blame us for taking this long! It takes time to look good!” He pushed Tank in front of David. “Especially this one! Fucker took forever, but ain’t it worth it?”

David was inclined to agree that their delayed appearance had been worth it.

Tank looked really fucking good. Maybe too good for his heart to take.

And… he could be wrong, he often is, but… were they wearing his jacket? The one he lost a few years back? He looked closer and saw a familiar patch on the jacket… And the familiar scent lingering on it, mixing it with theirs…  Oh yeah, it’s definitely his. 

He pushed down the shiver of pride and assigned placements for the latecomers. Milo and Sweetheart were stationed by the snack table, making sure no one even thinks about lacing the food or spiking the drinks with anything. He also hoped that the constant influx of hungry partiers would keep them from making out. 

Tank on the other hand was to walk around the hall and keep their eyes peeled for anything weird. He knew stationing them in one spot for the whole night would drive them crazy. Had it not been for that, he’d have them stationed with him at the entrance, an artificial way to keep them close to him. 

Once everyone was told what to do, Milo, Sweetheart and Tank left to where they were designated. Though, David so badly wanted to drag Tank back. Just to have a conversation with them. To tell them they look wonderful. That he loves them.

But there was work to be done, so like always, David swallowed down and choked on the love that has been years in the making. 

--    

David’s scent filled their senses and brought a sense of comfort to their wolf side. He cleared their throat and said, “Tank, I need you for a second.” Thank goodness for David and his bailouts. They had been approached by everyone and anyone left, right and centre and desperately needed a break.

“So what do you need me to do?” They asked, curiosity piqued.

“Milo and Asher said that they were running out of plates at the food table, so he wants us to get more.”

They raised their eyebrow. “And they asked for you and me? Specifically? No one else?” They couldn’t help but be suspicious. 

“Yes? Is that a problem?”

They were going to kill the two later.

Tank waved David off, gesturing to him to forget everything.

The two walked through the familiar yet unrecognizable hallways from their childhood. They could see their younger, brighter self leaning against the lockers. That they could feasibly achieve a fairy tale ending with their fairy tale prince. Walking through the school with David in their old prom outfit, loving him like a lovestruck teenager should.

Years later, they had somewhat gotten their wish, they were walking through the school with David, but with years of experiences weighing down on them.

What could have been had they not fucked it up royally?

“Nice jacket.”

David perked up at the sudden complement. “You think it looks good?” Did they think he looked good, had he looked in the mirror? He looks like he’s a kind king who decided to grace his subjects with his presence. Tank just had to be a lucky wolf to be this close to him.

“It does look good on you and I’d say you should wear it more often, but then it would lose it’s charm.”

“Well I’ll wear it more if you like it.”

Their heart sped at that comment. He’d wear it more? Because they like it? Tank had to fight their pulse to maintain a steady beat. They did not need his wolf ears to pick up how much that comment had affected him. 

They didn’t know what got to them more. The fact that they’ll get to see him in that jacket more often? Or that their opinion matters to him?

Thankfully for their wandering mind, the two wolves have arrived at the storage room. David came forward and pushed it open, letting them both walk inside.

The storage room was dark, the singular lightbulb not being enough to light up the room. It was also cramped. Extremely cramped, to the point that their back was pressed onto his chest. They felt their body heat up, but were convincing themselves that it was because of the humid air and not from their own embarrassment. 

They had found the plates they were looking for on a high shelf. David noticed Tank looking at the plates and wordlessly picked them, making them let out a squeal. “Fucking hell David! Give a wolf a word before you pick them up!”

He chuckled at their words. “Forgive me, your majesty. I’ll give you a warning next time.”

Tank pulled his hair in protest. They definitely weren’t thinking about the more suggestive side of their actions. 

But their heart dropped at the sound of the door slamming shut.

And it locking.

“SHIT!” David dropped Tank back onto the ground and they ran to bang on the door. “WHAT THE FUCK? UNLOCK THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW!” Every second that passed made their banging more violent and frantic. David called out their name to try to get them to stop, he didn’t want them to get hurt, but nothing was working.

“FLUFFY!”

“WHAT?”

It had been years since anyone called them fluffy. 

David thinks it’s a shame, ‘fluffy’ always fits them better than ‘tank’.

“Instead of banging on the door like a maniac, I’ll call Asher to get us out of here.” It was their worst nightmare, being stuck in a small room, but if they were stuck with David, then they'd stick it out.

Once David made the phone call, Tank opened their mouth. “So what now, Alpha? You got anything to keep us busy?” 

“You look good in that jacket too.”

Oh fuck, his plan was to kill them before help arrives. 

Tank thanked the shitty school infrastructure for only having one lightbulb, so that David wouldn’t see their embarrassed reaction. “Ah thanks, Stealth pulled it out of my closet. Gonna be honest, don’t know where I got it from. Just kinda popped in one day.”

“It’s mine, the jacket. It’s my jacket.”

Shittttttttt.

Tank scrambled to get the jacket off of them, spewing apologies like their life depended on it. They were so caught up in the new information they were given, they had completely forgotten the ‘scandalous’ outfit they wore underneath. But David placed a hand on their shoulder, stopping them.

“You look good in it and I want you to keep it. Besides,” he leaned in to whisper in their ear. “I want to be the one to take it off you.”

With all the false bravado they could muster, they replied, “sounds like you like me Shaw.”

“I don’t.”

Well there goes their heart. Like they ever had a chance with a man like him.

His eyes softened at their dejected look. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” He ran his hand through their hair. It was an action that had always brought them warmth and comfort, and he remembered that. 

“You know I’m not the best with words. I’m terrible at expressing my feelings, but you never needed that from me, an explanation. You always got what I was trying to say and accepted it with no question.” He took a deep breath and continued. “But you deserve to hear this, because I want to be clear where I stand. I know that your mind likes to wander, so I’m telling you right here, right now how I feel.”

“My fluffy puffball.” That had earned a chuckle from Tank. “I love you.”

Tank blinked in disbelief before responding. “You… love me? But I’m fucking me! The pack fuckup!”

He scoffed at their words and placed a hand on their cheek. “You made some mistakes, sure, but that doesn’t make you a fuckup.” He placed his other hand on their hip, light enough to not scare them off, but present so he can ground them. “I have loved you when we were kids who were less scarred, I love you during your bad days with Quinn and I still love you. And Fluffy, if I’m being honest, I don’t think- no, I know I will never love someone love someone the way I feel for you.”

How do they respond to that? They were words they’ve been wanting to hear for the longest time. Tank has never thought they deserve such soft love, especially from a man like David, but they won’t fuck up this opportunity they were gifted by the heavens. So they went with theur heart and said the one thing in their brain.

“David, kiss me, please?

And he granted their request.

One soft kiss turned to two, turned to him pressing Tank against the wall and them ripping each other’s jacket off.

Maybe Tank will finally get their fairytale ending with their fairytale prince.

[something-about-sunflowers]

I'm. I should be in bed. I should. But. Fucking hell is that a bad read lmfao. Just gonna go down the list shall we?

Stede starts off hesitant and asking about the rules because he doesn't KNOW the rules of a duel. Of which there are many, that he should have asked about before he accepted. Rules that Izzy, an experienced swordsman/fencer would know. Rules that Izzy, an experienced swordsman/fencer would follow, being 'the best sword on the seas'. Its not Izzy's fault or problem that Stede is overconfident and dumb. Stede isn't being 'proper' by entering a duel where he doesn't know the rules, he's being stupid. He’s TOLD this, in not so many words, by Ed (and the rest of the crew). Still not Izzy's fault or problem.

Izzy has been impatient with Stede throughout the season because he IS ignorant and naïve. And because he's arrogant despite being ignorant and naïve. And he's arrogant because he's a rich man/gentleman (in the original definition of the word: a land owner) who thinks he's better than people of lower stations than his own, even if its only subconsciously. Given that its subconscious and its a learned ideology that Stede is arguably working on, I'll give him the credit of 'he doesn't really mean it' but its an attitude he's turned on the crew as well and one that they haven't called him on (except Oluwande, but he was too gentle about it when Stede needs it to hit him like a brick) but they have narratively pointed it out.

He's not desperate, he's angry. And honestly, rightfully so, at least from his own point of view (and kind of like, in general too?). Stede has been nothing but unpleasant to him from the jump and his crew are following his lead. Izzy is not having a good time on the Revenge like Ed, Fang, and Ivan are. Nobody is letting him (even himself, in fairness). ANYWAY. Its not desperation, Stede is the desperate one if either of them are. He's not miraculously ‘out of reach’, he's running away. A lot. Not exactly in the spirit of the duel he accepted.

Stede's win is, by definition, unfair. He exploits a loophole, one that he didn't even know about, and he's lucky that Buttons did. Tossing the powder in Izzy's face is unfair. Getting Izzy's sword stuck is unfair. 'Rendering a weapon inoperable' in a traditional duel would likely mean 'disarming' the opponent with your own weapon. Getting the sword stuck fits on a technicality. Unfair. 'He just wanted to humiliate Izzy'? Have you been to like, kindergarten? Do you know what fairness is? That ain't it.

Izzy is a good swordsman and he's confident BECAUSE he's a good swordsman. He's not boastful/arrogant. He’s straight to the point. He's not the one who says 'he knows his shit' that's Ed. His confidence is earned. His downfall is not realizing he's one of the antagonists/the rival love interest in a rom-com. He can't adapt. If it were anyone else he was fighting but Stede Bonnet aboard the Revenge? He would have won. But because its Stede and because Izzy is following the rules of HIS world he loses. The same can be said for him in the rest of the season as well.

I can agree that the duel is a good show of personality but you're like. Wildly off about how it does so.

Not gonna reblog because anybody that has that bad a read of Izzy (and Stede tbh) is getting a block from me but I am happy to share my opinions. 3/10 read, you at least got the crew and Ed right.

P.S.

IZZY. IZZY HANDS? HE doesn't care about rules or fairness? Off the top of my head, Izzy: buys the hostages from the natives instead of stealing them, apologizes to Ed when he believes he's wronged him, plays chaperone/teacher while the Revenge crew is learning pirating, reminds Ed of his OWN rules and holds him to them, challenges Stede to a DUEL instead of outright killing him, gets decked in the face by Ed for selling out Stede and calls it 'fair', he literally describes himself as captain as 'tough but fair'. THAT Izzy Hands doesn't care about rules or fairness? Okay. Okay sure. Totally. Right.

[see-arcane]

Confound this novel, it has made me try to research if Jonathan and Mina could have had their first kiss before their wedding or if was taboo.

If it was, I bet it was one of those nonsensical things that even Mina found too stuffy to abide by. She calls herself out on it when Jonathan takes her arm in Piccadilly.

"Jonathan was holding me by the arm, the way he used to in old days before I went to school. I felt it very improper, for you can't go on for some years teaching etiquette and decorum to other girls without the pedantry of it biting into yourself a bit; but it was Jonathan, and he was my husband, and we didn't know anybody who saw us—and we didn't care if they did—so on we walked."

Notice she mentions Jonathan before she brings up him being her husband and the fact that they didn't care who saw (and looked down their nose at) them. It's Jonathan! Her Jonathan! The rest doesn't matter.

I can't see these two not sneaking kisses well before the wedding came into it, taboo or not. What really interests me is what other Definitely Taboo intimacies they were able to sneak in premarital-wise.

Remember, with the exception of Mr. Hawkins as a stand-in father figure, these two don't have traditional parent/chaperones hovering over their shoulders keeping everything Victorian-grade starched and placid. It seems like they're already living independently even before the novel's start. Which means the only one who'd know what they might get up to are A) Total strangers aghast at their PDA and B) God Himself while behind closed doors.

My guess is that many a hand and arm got held in public, give or take a few good kisses. These two are both high off their love for each other and the mutual delirious joy of thinking 'To hell with decorum, I can't believe I get to be with THEM!' 💕

When in total private? If they weren't already skirting the very edge of propriety in the bedroom, they were absolutely finding loopholes for...certain things.*

*On an unrelated note, I'm sure these two have always had extremely patient (and dexterous) hands when it comes to the needs of the other. Among other extremities.

"You're sure this doesn't count?"

"Why would it?"

"I feel entirely too tired and too good for it not to."

"I asked God, He said as long as we can't make a baby through a little creative massage, it does not count."

"Ah. In that case, I must say you have a very firm and admirable handshake, Mr. Harker."

"Likewise Miss Murray."

And, of course, there's a great deal of kissing happening here too.

...Just not necessarily always on the mouth.

[doublegoblin]

Character Names

As always thank you @toribookworm22 for the tag. Sorry it took me a bit to get to it!

Tag of my own - @asterhaze @stanrendipity @lola-theshowgrl @tisiphonewolfe only do if you feel like it!

Rules: give us your characters' names and definitions and vote whether or not they fit the meaning.

I'll be going over a handful of the Characters that appear in Rituals and Red Tape (and I'll just be honest I'm plugging these into google and taking the big blurb result)

Alex

Alex is a gender-neutral name of Greek origin meaning "defender of humankind." It is derived from the ancient Greek name Alexandros which comes from the Greek alexein meaning "to defend" or "to protect" and aner translating to "man or warrior."

Ya know I had picked this name originally because I wanted something gender neutral to begin with. Given their role as an Auditor I'd actually say this works pretty well 7/10 coincidence

Andrea

In Greek, the name Andrea is a feminine form of Andrew, which means “warrior” or “protector.” In Latin, the name Andrea means “courageous” or “brave.” It was a common name among early Christians, as Andrew was one of the twelve apostles of Jesus.

By virtue of also being an Auditor it kinda fits, but her personality (while yes brave and whatnot) I'd say is more based in confidence and a touch of impulsiveness. 5/10 she is a mess and I love her.

Dave

From the Hebrew Dawid meaning "beloved" or "favourite". Originally used in the Bible, where David was the name of a King of Israel. St. David is the patron saint of Wales.

Tee hee this one I kinda saw coming. Nah. I guess you could maybe spin this favourite as close because he has hailed as the head of The Board for countless cycles, but that's more due to happenstance and reasoning beyond our comprehension. 3/10 he is a stinky bastard.

Peter

The name Peter means Stone (or Stone Man as Spiros Zodhiates proposes) and symbolizes instability. Two Hebrew names that express the same difference are Zur, meaning rock, and Zeror, meaning pebble

So this one I did take from one of the drop down options. The big blurb only talked about how it meant stone. Being they are a fresh Dreamer and are meant to act as a normalcy barometer against the more jaded and desensitized Alex; sure. I won't weight this one to strongly because I chose a biased option. 4/10 this man will piss his pants.

Frank

Meaning:Free. To be frank is to feel free to express yourself and be upfront in life. The name Frank is of German origin and means "free," and is a diminutive of Francis and Franklin. 

Another one where I was purposeful in choosing the name for the character rather than going off a vibe. He speaks in one word sentences that you need to do some mental gymnastics to understand the true meaning behind. Also I learned this name can also mean to be from France...soooo. 9/10 I chose this oui oui.

Greg

Stemming from the Greek name Grēgórios and later the Latin Gregorius, Greg means "watchful" or "vigilant." Most fittingly, the name finds close proximity to the Latin noun grex, and its stem greg, meaning "flock." Such ties grant Greg the stature of a shepherd, faithfully watching over their flock

Okay this one was a shock actually. He is the head Chaperone for the Onboarding department. These are the Dreamers that are tasked with bringing the fresh Dreamers into the society. So um, yeah I guess way to go me for the vibe check. 8/10 this tall lanky man is going to watch over you.

Ishmael

Ishmael is a boy's name of Hebrew origin, meaning “God will hear.” Gifting baby this biblical title is a lovely way to honor one's faith and remind baby of their religious roots. In the Old Testament, Ishmael is the name of Abraham's firstborn son and is also considered the traditional ancestor of the Arab people.

Aight so, I knew this one would be a dud. This dude is the surfer-bro head of the DNR and I wholeheartedly chose the name because of Moby Dick. Despite the name his approach and reverence of the wildlife is more akin to Steve Irwin than the whale hungry fisherman. I thought it was a funny juxtaposition. 1/10 just nah.

[motownfiction]

orca

In second grade, the students at St. Catherine’s go on a field trip to the Detroit Zoo. It’s been a tradition for a long time. They pile onto the school bus, sing the world’s most annoying songs, and walk around in the halfway chilly Michigan weather. The trip is always in May, but everyone knows May is about as cold as March. Daniel’s mother isn’t chaperoning this trip – she can’t afford to take the day off work – but she makes sure he has everything he needs. Jacket, hat, scarf, gloves, just in case. She gives him everything but souvenir money, which Lucy’s mother sneaks into his backpack when he’s not looking. It takes him years to figure out it was her, and it takes him even longer to thank her for it. But today is not that day. Today, Daniel DeLuca is eight years old, and he wants to look at the animals.

When they come upon the aquatic exhibit, Carl Becker is a little too excited. It’s not surprising to anyone. Just annoying. For as long as any of them can remember, even before they were in school full time, Carl Becker has been a little too obsessed with sea creatures. Years later, he’ll attend the University of Miami to study marine biology, but they have no way of knowing that now. He’s just the weird kid who’s way too into sharks – the weird kid he and Sam make fun of at lunch, and Will always tells them to stop.

But of course, it’s the weird kid who says the right thing.

“I wanna see an orca!”

“Carl, slow down!” his mother, always a chaperone, calls after him. “You’re not going to see an orca in there! It’s not possible!”

Daniel’s not sure what comes over him. But he looks up at Mary Callaghan, Lucy’s mother and their chaperone for the day, and he asks.

“What’s an orca?”

Mary smiles a little.

“An orca is a big whale,” she says.

“Like Moby Dick,” Will says.

“No,” Lucy says hotly. “Moby Dick was an albino sperm whale. Do you listen when I talk?”

“I listen all the time!”

Sam’s behind them, giggling like a fool. Sadie’s giggling, too, but it seems like she doesn’t really understand why.

“Heh,” Sam says. “Sperm.”

Daniel doesn’t get that one, either, but judging by the slightly mortified look on Mary Callaghan’s face, he probably shouldn’t ask.

“Orcas are black and white,” Mary explains to Daniel. “Some people call them killer whales.”

Daniel gulps a little at that one.

“So why would Carl want to see one?” he asks. “Does he want the whale to kill us?”

Mary laughs.

“Oh, no,” she says. “I’m sure not.”

“Then you don’t know Carl,” Sadie says. “He’s kind of mean.”

“Well, maybe,” Mary says. “But that’s not what I meant. Killer whales aren’t actually killers. Scientists say they don’t pose any real danger to people.”

“So, why do they call them killer whales?” Daniel asks.

Mary smiles again. Her eyes are a little sparkly, and Daniel wonders what he has to do to get his eyes to sparkle like that, too.

“You tell me,” she says.

But Daniel doesn’t say anything. He’s too busy thinking about the answer. How could something so pretty and gentle be called a killer? Were people trying to be mean? Were people afraid because they didn’t know how else to feel? Were they trying to pull a trick on the others, whoever they were? Daniel doesn’t know. Worse than that, he doesn’t even know how to know.

He thinks he might want to see an orca, too.

Maybe they could talk.

(part of @nosebleedclub june challenge -- day xiv!)

[thesinglesjukebox]

TROYE SIVAN - "RUSH"

Poppers, to two decimal places.

[6.83]

Rachel Saywitz: Heathens, debauchers, partakers of libations, gather round, for this is a story most foul. It's a titillating tale of delight, a sensuous account of the sweetest carnal pleasures. For here bare buttocks were slapped, saliva was swapped, and crotches were lit aflame. And on this most sinful of nights, the boomiest of bass ran pounded a skinny man with undead eyes. Yes, this was the God-hating demon himself. Using his nasal tone to elevate the most traditional of club beats into a sexual paradise. Giving his catchiest hook to a gaggle of men, no doubt caught under his spell. Beware this evil-doer. For he makes even the straightest of people fall into his gaze. Under any circumstances, do not feel the rush. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: Xander went through a lot in that series. He got his music career ground into nothingness before he became an adult, got shocked into incoherence by a lame who has a godawful ponytail, got cussed with homophobic lies, it's great to hear him launch off these exciting house drum programming that gets so big in the mix he kinda has to be - wait, his name is Troye? Wow, what else did they take -- he had an actual singing career and acting career before this. He's never been named Xander? decided to just dance to the song and fix the blurb later, never does [8]

Oliver Maier: Sivan's a curious export to me, a mostly middling songwriter who converts more and more fans each cycle simply by existing, like the Luigi who wins by doing absolutely nothing of pop music. I don't begrudge him it, I just don't see his angle. "Rush" is a certifiable Big Tune™, but to me that has more to do with the shouty lads on the hook than Troye, who flits around like a cherubic chaperone. [7]

Will Adams: So the solution to my problem with Troye's just-okay voice (besides Hot Chip remixes) is to baton pass the chorus to a full Village People chant. Brilliant! It's the cherry on a just-too-tailored piano-house instrumental, which makes me think that maybe he should phone Disclosure for some collabs. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: A rare show of genuine tension and heat from Troye Sivan. But that's not due to Troye so much as the heady fog of reverb and posse of mega-masc guys he surrounds himself with. [7]

David Moore: It's too late for me to grok Troye Sivan's whole deal, I think, but this reminds me of the fake-seeming dance tracks I constantly pull from Spotify's new music playlists, most of which are designed for Dance Mode [picture of purple disco ball] and Beast Mode [picture of buff shirtless man holding dumbbells] and presumably many other Modes that I can't imagine this particular song hyping me up for or, more accurately, helping me to survive with only minor shoulder injuries. [4]

Will Rivitz: Free us from the tyranny of gang vocals. [5]

Michael Hong: Not really a radical reinvention -- if "Dance to This" were dialed to a 5, then this is amped up to a measly 7, and Troye's been way more explicit with underage hookups and poorly disguised flower metaphors -- but damn if this isn't fun. [7]

Thomas Inskeep: Why isn't Troye Sivan an international, honest-to-goodness, radio-saturating popstar?! (Spoiler alert: it's because he's so openly gay in his lyrics, which in 2023 is absurd but there you fucking go.) Sivan's vocals here are simultaneously confident and dreamy, and goddamn, "Rush" is so swoony it actually feels like the rush you get meeting someone on a dancefloor and just connecting, immediately. And also, I mean, poppers; he clearly knows of what he sings. [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: This summer, after seeing Barbie & Renaissance in the same day, my friend found poppers on the floor of our favorite drag bar that were so strong that I'm convinced to this day that I have brain damage. Was it a coincidence that this happened two weeks after the release of this song? I think not. [7]

Ian Mathers: In everything I'd read about the Troye Sivan album I don't recall seeing anyone mention "he sometimes sounds a bit like Friendly Fires now" and honestly I would have liked to have had that information. [9]

Alfred Soto: I would've liked Troye Sivan as a model. Introverted but not shy, fluent in the ways in which a life of constructing an identity on one's phone brings new adventures and stirs up familiar fears, Sivan isn't coy. "Rush," though, reminds me of Jessie Ware's latest album: the forced euphoria of a camp counselor with two weeks to go before the end. [5]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: An all-time great song to jump up and down and chant along to. To make beautifully head-empty pretty bro music like this is a true gift that must not be squandered. [9]

Leah Isobel: "Rush" is suitably aerodynamic, with the exception of its blocky football-chant chorus. It's like a beer commercial plopped into a DJ set, and its masculinity comes across as glib compared with the airy pianos and bouncy bongos. But I get that Troye is the chronicler of emotional distance within intimacy, and I like that he takes some time out from huffing poppers with the boys to wink, "This shit is so much fun"; that's the kind of distance that feels true, the moment when your brain surfaces just long enough to realize how ridiculous it is to be a body in space. [6]

Brad Shoup: The video version offers a deal: you get a post-chorus without violent panning between fore- and background, but also a comedown outro about loving "with reciprocity". I'll take the wispy original, which tries to bulk up with a great bro chorus but ultimately glides around corners, pleading for pleasure. ("Kiss it when you're done" is such a good line. I can't get over it.) Also, two-and-a-half minutes is the right duration for this kind of churning yet weightless pop-house encounter. [7]

Crystal Leww: There's a Tiktok floating around where a girl asks where are the men who like women who look like Troye Sivan. While it's extremely funny, it also speaks to the fact that there's a real dearth of men in Western pop who are out here popping their pussy and putting their whole back into it. "Rush" is a full pop song with a curated, cohesive vibe throughout the song, a hook that doesn't stick out in a sea of blah before and after it, and a choreographed silly little dance that Troye and his boys do. The bar is in hell -- we're lucky we at least have "Rush." [6]

Alex Ostroff: On the Something to Give Each Other press tour, Troye pointedly raved about how inspired he is by Janet. Intriguingly, his standom doesn't focus on her Imperial Phase: Not her declaration of Control, the politics of Rhythm Nation 1814, nor the personal discovery of janet. Not even The Velvet Rope's blend of the internet, queer activism, kink & self-empowerment which left such an indelible mark on the last decade of R&B and underground dance music. No, when asked for his three favourite Janet songs, Troye's picks are 'Together Again", "All Nite (Don't Stop)" and "SloLove." Two-thirds of those are from Damita Jo, Janet's horniest record. Damita Jo featured "Warmth" and "Moist," back-to-back odes to fellatio and cunnilingus so explicit that Janet cut them from the clean version altogether. That feels right for the Troye era that launched with "Rush." It's not that Troye hasn't explored sexuality before -- Bloom's title track is famously a bop about bottoming, after all -- but those were his takes on "Let's Wait Awhile," "Anytime, Anyplace," or the psychosexual therapy moments on Velvet Rope, where sex was a window into his emotional state and romantic relationships. Here, Troye just delves into the joy of spontaneous lust and delivers a femme top anthem where his masc bros chant about wanting your touch. He whispers "Breathe '1, 2, 3' / take all of me" and instructs you to "Kiss it when you're done". Like Damita Jo, 'Rush' can sometimes feel uncomfortable or cringey (is the glory hole 12" vinyl packaging too much or exactly enough?), but it also undeniably fucks. [8]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Earlier this year, a relatively popular musician saw a tweet I made that called their music bad, and responded with a quote tweet that derisively called me a twink. It was wonderful. I have never been called a twink before, and never will be again given my body type, but it started to make me think about all the things I'll never experience in life because of the ways in which we play into type when it comes to sex. Or maybe that's just me being pessimistic. Anyways, how about those meatheads chanting here? [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[zofiawithaz]

When We Begin Again

PARTIES: Cassius @singdreamchild & Sofie @sofiedupont

LOCATION: Sofie’s apartment

TIMING: Sunday evening

SUMMARY: Sofie and Cassius go up to Sofie’s apartment to talk and get to know each other better. Things go well until it gets too deep. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: drinking, mentions of illness/death

Sofie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on an actual date. Maybe never? At least not in the modern sense of the word. She’d been courted in the past, but it seemed terribly antiquated now. All the chaperones and the chastity and what not. They were vampires for heaven's sake. Surely the need for such formalities had gone the same way as their pulses. It wasn’t as though something as innocent as holding hands or a kiss would set them ablaze. She found she much preferred the modern traditions instead. 

He’d brought her flowers. Flowers. She smiled looking at the orchids as she twisted a corkscrew into a bottle of wine. The petals were a pretty yellow speckled with red, and she thought they brightened up the room beautifully. By the time Cassius was walking her to the door to return her home for the night, she simply wasn’t ready for the evening to end. She wanted to know more. And to not have to talk in coded language in case someone were to overhear. She poured the cabernet into two glasses and handed him his, before perching the sofa with her legs tucked underneath her. “So. Teacher, poet, vampire.” It was so nice to be able to say the word aloud. To not have to skirt around the truth. “What other titles should I give you, Cassius? Other than soon-to-be world renowned dancer.”

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In truth, Cassius had never been on a date before. All he knew of them were what other people told him or what movies and tv shows taught him. It wasn’t really something that he’d done before. He found that it was moments like these were moments where he resented the man that sired him. He waved the thought away as soon as it came on, he wasn’t thinking about that, not now. Just to get the full dating experience, he had treated her to dinner at The Codfather, followed by a movie. He had decided to bring her flowers that had a meaning. That was something he had picked up as a hobby back in the 1880s, something that helped him pass the time and impress his sire with. That’s where a lot of his hobbies had come from. These orchids were yellow, which represented new beginnings, while the red represented romance. He didn’t mind if she didn’t know what it meant, it was just a little touch that brought him some joy. 

Now Cassius found himself in Sofie’s apartment, talking openly about themselves, something he hadn’t expected but welcomed all the same. “I’m just a teacher who writes poetry in his freetime that happens to be a member of the living dead.” He rephrased, shaking his finger at her. “You know my hobbies when I haven’t heard about yours. You’re clearly a dancer, and you said something about an antique shop? Tell me more about that.” He insisted, more interested in learning more about herself than talking more about him.

______________________________________________________________

She snorted into her wine glass as he shook a finger at her as if her were chastising her. “I’m not certain I would call myself a dancer. I would never get up and perform. I have dreadful stage fright.” Sofie confessed. “I’m fine if it’s a room full of dancing people. No ones watching then. Like the other night, at the club.” She explained. “Well. Maybe not quite like the other night, since it turns out you were watching, but you get the idea.”

“Ah yes, I did mention antiques. I don’t own a shop- if anything, this is my shop.” She waved at the apartment around her. “Almost three hundred and fifteen years worth of stuff.” Or what she still had left of it. She wasn’t sure what had happened to the things she’d left behind in France, when it seemed returning was only a matter of time. She imagined they had been pawned off, or wound up in a museum or archive somewhere. Just another scrap of someone’s history to be observed. And she certainly couldn’t risk going back to get everything when she was on the run. She had made several trips, but picked the pieces she left behind strategically. The things that she couldn’t sell for very much got left behind, except for a few items she couldn’t bear to part with. She realized her expression had drifted into something melancholic and she cleared her throat, sitting straighter. “I’ve hardly enough room for me in here, and old things in good condition can go for quite a sum. So I sell it.” She shrugged, her mouth turning back up into a smile.”Though it is entertaining when people are confused how someone so young acquired so much. One of the downfalls of turning when I was only twenty-six, I suppose. I usually tell them I inherited it from my grandmother.”

______________________________________________________________

Cassius looked around the apartment, taking in the antiques with more detail. All of it ornate and fancy. “Three hundred and fifteen, huh?” He chuckled before taking a sip from his wine. “Only two hundred and five on me, maybe two hundred six. I stopped keeping count, honestly.” He waved a hand, as if age meant nothing to him. Which, if he stopped to think about it, it really didn’t. Not for himself, anyway. 

He watched as her face fell, it was clear to him that these items mattered to her, which made him question why she would sell it in the first place. Cassius didn’t dare pry, especially since he hadn’t bothered to keep anything of sentimental value from his past. As she sat upright and put on a facade, he knew he had touched on something a bit too personal. “Well your grandmother seemed to have quite the collector’s eye,” he smirked at her, taking another drink of the wine. 

“Well, since I broached a particularly sensitive topic for you, I owe you something in return,” he decided with a smirk. “Ask me anything, I promise to be truthful.” Cassius put up three fingers, giving a mock scout signal. 

______________________________________________________________

“Only two hundred and six? You missed all the revolutions in the eighteenth century, you poor thing.” She almost envied him. The French Revolution wasn’t exactly the best time for someone who seemed for all intents and purposes to be nobility to live in France. At least it all turned out fine for Sofie. “One of the blessings of what we are, I suppose. We would have been two ships passing in the night otherwise.” And she certainly preferred existing in a world where she could meet people like Cassius. 

Sofie laughed, nodding. “Ah yes. Babcia Zofia left me all of her belongings. I was the most doting of her great great grandchildren.” It was one of the many variations of the tale she told people who ask. 

“It’s not that sensitive, don’t worry.” Her face must have betrayed more than she’d thought. “If it was, I wouldn’t make a business of it.” Not entirely true. If it led back to the life she was accustomed to, there were a great many things in the apartment she’d be happy to part with. Sofie’s smile turned feline. She loved these sorts of things. “I suppose I’ll have to make sure they’re good questions… What is the most interesting event you’ve witnessed over your time on this earth?” She asked for her first question. 

______________________________________________________________

“Yes, I know. I missed all the good stuff,” he mock-lamented, placing his head in his hands for added dramatic effect. “Shame on me for missing both the English fighting the American colonies and the beheadings in France. Definitely a good time to be alive.”  Cassius shot her an accusatory look, though it was all in good fun. “It’s strange to think about being human, isn’t it? Living out a normal life and passing away of old age at eighty-something.” He took another sip of his wine, thinking for a long moment. “I can’t picture my life any other way anymore.”

He laughed in response to her very real, very believable great great grandmother. “Well she has a beautiful name, almost as beautiful as her doting great-great grandchild, of course.” Cassius gave Sofie an approving nod. 

Her question made him think for a long moment, he had witnessed things, yes. But nothing truly interesting. He stuck to his routines with his sire, rarely aloud out of his sight. “Does learning that vampires exist as I lay dying count?” Cassius asked in earnest, swirling the wine in his glass around as he thought back to his last human moments. “Because if you think about it, vampires being real is pretty interesting.” 

______________________________________________________________

“Oh it wasn’t all war and beheadings,” Sofie laughed. It had been far too long since she’d been able to speak freely about things such as these. “It was the new ideas- the music! You never got to sit in Vienna at the world premiere of La Nozze di Figaro.” A wistful smile overtook her features at the memory. “What a time.” She nodded slowly in agreement. “I never would have seen as much as I have if I’d stayed as I was… and we wouldn’t be sat here, comparing notes on a combined five centuries.” I wouldn’t be here with you. That’s what she meant to say. But she couldn’t quite make her mouth form the words. Not yet, at least.

Sofie smiled, bashful. It had been a long time since anyone had called the first name she’s had beautiful. She had gone by it occasionally when her little family had traveled abroad for short spans of time to avoid suspicion, but it had been at least a hundred years since she’d used it last. It had been almost as long since someone had last called her beautiful. She was certain that if blood still warmed her veins, it would all be flooding her cheeks in a blush. “She and I both think you’re a flatterer.” 

Her smile faltered slightly. That was the one unfortunate reality to becoming a vampire. You had to be on death's door to become one. It was a touchy subject, and she didn’t want to overstep. “I think it counts… What happened-” She started, before shaking her head. “I don’t mean to pry, I just… How did it happen?”

______________________________________________________________

He listened to her go on and on about the eighteenth century with a smile on his face.  Cassius truly loved watching people talk about things they were passionate about. There was something in there eyes that lit up when they spoke about it. “Well the most exciting thing I experienced in my growing up was playing on train tracks.” He admitted with a laugh. “Used to think that was the greatest adventure. Definitely nothing like living in the height of luxury like you seemed to.” He shrugged, he didn’t mind that he had missed out at key points of history, he rather preferred to experience new things. Leave the history to the lessons he taught in class. 

Cassius paused for a long moment as she asked that question. The question that he’d never really been asked before. “It was tuberculosis,” he began. “Back then, we called it consumption, as I’m sure you remember.” He took another drink, expression pensive. “I had been living with, who I thought at the time to be nothing more than a human doctor. He worked at the nearby sanitarium. He knew the ins and outs of that disease. Knew the progression, the symptoms.” He stopped, shaking his head. “For the longest time I thought that I really knew him. That I…” he took a deep breath, willing the words to come out. “I loved him. Deeply, and in a moment of desperation, he revealed who he was to me. I was coughing up blood at that point, and he didn’t want to lose me.” He shook his head, expression turning to one of anger for the briefest of moments. “I thought I was delirious, that surely that that must have been it.” He let out a humorless laugh. “When I woke up a day later with a thirst I had never known, I realized that it wasn’t a fever dream.” He finished off his wine, his shaken expression turning to one of indifference. “Your turn, how did it happen?” He then asked, raising a brow to her. It seemed only fair after he admitted something he didn’t let himself think about. 

______________________________________________________________

Sofie’s teeth caught at the inside of her cheek. It hadn’t always been luxury. It wasn’t something she ever let herself think about for too long. Some days it was easier to pretend she’d always been a DuPont. That she’d never known a life before that. But on the nights she’d sit up and remember, the thoughts of before haunted her almost as much as the thoughts of how it ended. 

Consumption. Her face fell completely. A terrible disease. She’d known of many who’d fallen to it back in those days, but never anyone she’d known personally. It wasn’t as though vampires could catch the illness. As he spoke, she found herself leaning in toward him. She found herself resisting the urge to reach out and out a hand atop his own. And then Cassius said he loved them. This doctor he spoke of. Sofie wasn’t sure she’d ever had a love like that. She’d had dalliances with people over the years… men, women- it made no difference to her. But she didn’t think there had ever been someone so in love with her that they would make her anew, and she didn’t know if she’d ever felt the same. She did know though, that it wasn’t polite to step on other people's toes. Was he still in love with them? She forced her brain to stop spinning out, and when her thoughts had stopped spiraling, Sofie saw that she’d reached out for him anyway. 

And then the question was turned to her, and she wasn’t sure why she was scared to admit how she’d turned. Sofie had never been ashamed of it before. At least she hadn’t thought she’d been. “You’re out of wine,” she said absently, plucking his glass from his hands and hurrying to refill it. Anything for a momentary distraction. But once it was back in his hands she didn’t see much of a choice. Especially since she wanted to keep it fair. “I’m from Poland, originally. Gdańsk. I was the youngest, so I was sent to work. But I never wanted that. I wanted to be the pretty maiden in the fairytale. To ride off into the sunset and live spectacularly…” she took a long sip of her drink. Her tale seemed shallow in comparison. “I was working as a ladies made, and the woman I worked for had guests from France… Seraphine offered to give me more. Everything I had ever wanted. So I accepted her offer. What did I have to lose?”

______________________________________________________________

Cassius watched as Sofie distractedly went to refill his wine, opening his mouth to stop her, but then let it fall shut again. Maybe he had said too much? No, he had definitely said too much. Mentally kicking himself, he shook his head. Then, she began to tell her side of the story, and he listened in earnest. From maid to storybook fantasy, he couldn’t blame her in the slightest for going after something that seemed so far out of reach in those days. “I can’t say I blame you,” he spoke in response. “Bonus points for not having near as depressing a tail as mine is.” He shook his head, tapping his pointed fingernail against the glass that was in his hand. “As gruesome as the way I went out was, I don’t… I don’t think I would change it.” He confessed, looking over to her finally. “After all, I wouldn’t have discovered the Roaring 20s or watched the world go to war not once but twice.” He scratched the top of his head, a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t have discovered a genre of music that made me feel alive for the first time in over a hundred years.” Wouldn’t have met you, he didn’t say aloud. 

He crossed one leg over the other, deep in thought for a long moment. “If you had asked me ten years ago if I’d be happy to meet another vampire, I’d have told you to get lost.” He admitted, giving a sad smile. “But I like this town, there’s something about it. There’s a lot of weird that goes on but I mean… look at us, we’re vampires.” Cassius gestured to the two of them to emphasize his point. “I guess what I’m trying to say in a drawn-out way, is that I’m glad that everything fell into place so that we could meet.” He looked away for a moment, slightly embarrassed. “I do mean that,” he added as he looked back up to her.

______________________________________________________________

Sofie’s eyes shot up to meet his. She scanned his face, looking for any sign of reproach and found absolutely none. A tiny sigh left her, and a smile began to tug at her lips once more. “Perhaps we were put in the right place at the right time so the opportunity would present itself. Fate intervening to ensure we could see and enjoy and experience all the things we need to that were too far ahead in the future for us to have gotten to on our own.”

She sat back down next to him, tucking her legs back under her, the little dove her side had dubbed her. She leaned forward to pick up his hand in one of hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad too.” After a moment, Sofie worried it may have been a bit much, taking his hand. She let him go, folding her hands in her lap.  “I suppose I still have a third question to ask don’t I?” She worried her lip with her fang absentmindedly. One question had been fluttering around her mind like a caged bird demanding to be set free. “And is your heart still his? The doctor who turned you, I mean.”

______________________________________________________________

Cassius frowned as she pulled her hand away from his, having half a mind to keep squeeze it from retreating, but ultimately decided that he knew better than that. “He left back in the eighties.” He began, making sure to look her in the eyes. “He left without a word. And as far as I’m concerned, is dead. And if he’s not, he’s certainly dead to me.” His eyes held a burning hatred, one that held resentment and hurt. But as soon as it had appeared, it was gone again. “I’ve had a long time to get over it, rest assured.” He couldn’t help the nagging in the back of his head, a nagging that needed to know what had happened to him, what drove him away. “Of course I’d love to know what happened, but… if he wanted to be found, he would be.” The vampire looked away from her for a moment, holding the glass a bit tighter, almost tight enough to break it. “No, to finally answer your question, he does not.” He finally looked back over to her, his grip on the wine glass relenting. “I promise you, I wouldn’t have even danced with you if that weren’t the case.”

He took a drink, one that lasted a bit longer than was appropriate. “In truth, it’s a fair question to ask.” He admitted, running a hand through his hair; a nervous tic. “I’ve found that looking forward is better than letting myself get stuck in the past, as ironic as that is for a history teacher to say.” He paused for a beat before continuing. “I can’t change what happened, nor would I really want to. Because every decision I’ve made has led me to this moment, here with you. I don’t know if that would have been the case had I held on to the hurt he caused.” He let out a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “I suppose the mood changed hasn’t it? Apologies.”

______________________________________________________________

They were so similar in some ways and different in others. They’d both stayed with their sires for years. The relationships there has been vastly different, but both Sofie and Cassius had stayed with them, and they’d both ended up alone. But the fact that someone who had supposedly loved Cassius, had cared for him, and just abandoned him… it didn’t sit right with her. The pain that was in Cassius’s eyes told a story. He had cared for that doctor deeply, and whoever the bastard had been, he’d thrown that love away for whatever reason. If he wasn’t dead and Sofie ever had the displeasure of making his acquaintance, she’d let her distaste be well known. “Good,” her voice was a soft echo in her quiet of her apartment. “I think, even after all that time… especially after all that time, if he would leave you with no explanation, he was never deserving of your love. I’m sorry he did that to you, you deserve better.”

Sofie watched as he raked a hand through his hair once more, strands of it sticking up as they pleased. A crooked grin wormed it’s way across her face, and she reached out and smoothed them back into place, not thinking too much about the action. “If it has, it’s only my own fault for asking such nosy questions. I did warn you, I believe. Ask me anything, it’s only fair, drogi.”

______________________________________________________________

Cassius didn’t say a lot of things he thought of when thinking about his sire, a name he didn’t dare to speak, didn’t dare to think. Not anymore. He wanted to know what happened to him, it was the reason he had stayed in place for so long, hoping that, just maybe, he would find him. A lot of that hope had been lost after the first year, he stopped caring after ten. While he no longer felt the way he once did, that didn’t mean  that it didn’t hurt any less. All the thoughts he didn’t care to think about, he quickly suppressed to the back of his mind as he always did. Compartmentalizing it for later.

He nearly froze as she let her hand smooth his hair, but quickly composed himself as he looked over to her. Deciding to be bold, he took her hand and let his eyes narrow as he thought up potential questions. “I suppose I could go for the obvious one, but I think I have a better question in mind.” He chuckled, nudging her playfully. “What would you say to another date?” He asked instead, deciding to lighten the mood.

______________________________________________________________

Cassius’s hand caught hers. She hadn’t been expecting it- foolish of her, since she had crept into his space without checking. It just felt normal. Like she had been fixing his hair for years, and not that this was the first time she’d done it. Sofie did not pull away. Instead, her thumb drew lazy circles against the side of his hand. 

“What would I say to a second date?” She teased. “A whole world of questions to ask, and that is the one at the top of your list?” Sofie grinned. She couldn’t say she blamed him, as it was the only item on the list of ‘important questions to ask before the night was over’. “I would say yes, obviously. Say when and where, and I will be there.”

______________________________________________________________

Cassius chuckled at Sofie’s response to his question. Sure, he could have asked something juicy, but where would be the fun in that. “It’s a valid question!” He defended, pulling his hand away as if he were offended. With the grin on his face, it was easy to tell he was teasing. The whole idea of finding someone again, someone who just made so much sense for him, it was still foreign to him. Something about it made him feel as if it weren’t something for him to experience, as if he weren’t allowed. But then there she was, someone that kept him on his toes, someone who gave him a reason to come out of his shell, even if only for a brief moment at a time. 

“Alright, my second question.” He started, positioning himself so he could face her. “I suppose I can get a little deeper here, since you did it to me…” he paused again, clearly trying to think of a question. “You’ve talked about being involved in salons and balls and wanting to live a fairytale. What brought you from there to Maine?” He questioned, tone gentle since Cassius knew he was encroaching potentially painful territory for her.

______________________________________________________________

And there it was. The question with such a complicated answer. “Because it was safe.” She began, her gaze drifting away from his face to somewhere back in another time and place. “The things with dreams- the thing with fairytales is that they end. Because it’s a tale of a fixed point in time. It never talks about what happens after you close the book and set it back on the shelf. No one tells you if the prince really loves Cinderella, or if the faerie ever comes back to bestow another curse on Sleeping Beauty…Or maybe the fairytale ends only to start a new story. And since you’ve grown up and no longer need fairy tales, it’s darker this time. Harder. More complicated.” Sofie blinked, realizing she was sat there answering a straightforward question in metaphors.

“My family” Sofie began again, this time getting to the point of it. “Decided to move for a while to America between the World Wars. Henri- my brother,” She wasn’t sure if there was a better term to call someone who was made by the same vampire, but they had called each other as such their entire lives. “He pushed for us to relocate. So we did. To New Orleans for a time, then up to New York. And it was fine for quite some time. At least we thought it was. Apparently, back home in France, some of our clan were… Going missing. Being caught by hunters more and more frequently. But I didn’t know, I was too busy enjoying what this country had to offer. I suppose whoever it was in France crossed the sea to find the rest of us. And they did. Henri and I ran after they caught Seraphine and Adrien. And then after a while of running, one night Henri just… Didn’t come back. So it was  just me. I drifted for a while, mostly because I wasn’t sure if staying in any one place for a long period of time was wise. But I managed to collect most of my belongings back, as you can see.” She gestured vaguely to the room. “And I started staying in places longer… I don’t know if they’re really after me any longer. And this place seemed as good a place as any.”

Sofie took a silent sip from her glass, punctuating the story. “It’s easier to talk about the early times. People like those stories better. So do I.” It was easier to try and rebuild on the promise of the good times than the threat of danger.

______________________________________________________________

Cassius listened with rapt attention as she told her story, all the details that pulled at his heart strings. “I’m sorry that happened to you.” He spoke in earnest, taking her hand again and squeezing it lightly, to let her know that he was there. That he meant what he said. “A hunter after your clan is… alarming, to say the least.” He murmured as he took another sip of his wine, staring out in front of him blankly as he collected his thoughts. “They would be glad that you’re honoring the good times you had with them,” he turned to look at her again, expression soft. 

He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have his found family ripped away from him in such a violent manner. It had always been just him and his sire for as long as he could remember. They never added on to it, always just the two of them. There was a chance that he had been hunted down, but it was hard to know for sure. “I hope for your sake you’re no longer being sought after by whoever did this to your people.” Cassius squeezed her hand again. “And if they are, I’m here to help you however I can.” He vowed, face turning serious. “And if it brings you any solace, you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

______________________________________________________________

She snorted, amused in a sort of macabre way. “The fact that I was so blissfully unaware is perhaps more alarming.” How she hadn’t noticed so much was going wrong so quickly was still beyond her. Perhaps too much attention was paid to enjoying her lifestyle rather than finding a way to make it sustainable. Sofie smiled sadly, and nodded. “But I thank you for listening.” She laughed this time- a genuine sound. “They’d be more horrified that I’d decided on Maine of all places, but I’m rather pleased with my decision.”

She held on to his hand for a long, silent moment. It was a physical reminder that she wasn’t alone, at least not in that moment. She had never been all alone, not when she was Zofia from Gdańsk, and not when she was living it up in France as Sofie DuPont. She had struggled with being alone more than anything else. So she appreciated the hand to hold, even if it was a temporary one. 

But then Cassius kept talking. Sofie’s eyes shifted back to his, looking for an answer to one final question. Why? Why put himself at risk, knowing that she may very well still have a target on her back. “I…” she didn’t quite know how to respond. He had addressed some of her deepest fears in a single sentence. “You should not put yourself in danger for me. If there is someone still after my clan, they would likely go after you two. I want people, yes, but only if they accept being associated with me may still come with a risk. 

______________________________________________________________

Cassius hummed, thinking for a moment. “That’s the nice thing about hiding,” he spoke with a smirk. “No one ever suspects Maine.” He then put his wine glass down on the side table, careful to not let go of her hand. “When I was a young vampire I was… a very messy one.” He began to explain. “We moved around a lot to avoid hunters. His logic was you can’t get caught if you never stick around long enough to attract suspicion.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I think Richard would be more horrified that I dared stick to one place long enough to let myself get caught.” There was a sour tone in his voice when he finally said his sire’s name.

If it had been twenty years ago and Sofie had told him this, he would already have one foot out the door. Something was different for him now. The idea of having something to belong to, not just continually running away from some unseen force. “I’ve spent my entire life running away from hunters. I’ve encountered them, fought them. Ran from them.” He looked at her intently for a long moment before continuing. “But I am not afraid of them. I never have been. And if this hunter is still after you, I’m not going to run away just because it would be convenient.” He knew that they’d only been on one date, but she meant more to him already than just leaving her to her own devices, alone and running. That’s what he had been doing all his life, and he was tired of it. “Think me crazy or no, I’m more than willing to stick by your side.” he patted her hand with his free hand, nodding once. “I mean that.”

______________________________________________________________

“Except for that one American author who sets all of his damned books here.” Sofie shook her head. Maybe the author was one of them? Anything was possible she supposed. She refocused on the hand in hers as Cassius began to speak again. “Richard wouldn’t have liked my clan much then. We stayed for long stretches… but we didn’t really hunt.” She confessed. “Or maybe they did, I don’t know… I never had to.” 

Sofie was at a loss for words. It was either the kindest or maddest thing anyone had said to her. She was inclined to lean toward the former. The vampire lifted their linked hands and pressed a kiss of thanks to the top of his. Not alone anymore. I’m not alone. “Well, I don’t think I see enough of you either, Cassius. So I would like you to stick around.”

______________________________________________________________

Cassius squeezed Sofie’s hands tighter and looked gently into her eyes. “Not to worry, my dear. I have no plans of going anywhere.” He vowed, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “We don’t have to be alone, not anymore.”

[downrightsugoi]

A time-honored tradition, please take me and @crestfraldarius’ Zexal/Sharkbait shitpost headcanons we made over our weekend together:

-In addition to Edgar Degas the papillon, Ryouga also has a corgi named Archibald

-Thomas and Ryouga frequently hot box together in one of the Kamishiro’s fancy bathrooms. Thomas also may have had a cocaine problem.

-Kaito and Rio are dating. But they can still fuck other people (specifically Kaito and Chris and maybe Mizael)

-Yuuma is still an idiot. A lovable idiot. Ryouga loves him so much

-One night Ryouga asks Yuuma to degrade him but Yuuma always KATTOBINGUs things and goes a bit too far

“C’mon I can handle it. Make me feel like shit c’mon.”

“UH…. BESIDES ME, WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME SOMEONE SMILED WHEN YOU ENTERED A ROOM?”

“…………….🥺”

“SHARK BAE NO-I DIDNT MEAN IT-“

-Ryouga says Yuuma can go anywhere to eat for his birthday. He will rent out the entire place. Michelin level restaurant. Paris. NYC. LA. Wherever. Yuuma chooses Olive Garden. (The marinara sauce is a bit too spicy for Kaito’s palette tho)

-Kaito and Ryouga are always at each other’s throats. But they are best friends (don’t tell anyone tho).

-At weekly dinner with Kaito, Ryouga, Yuuma, and Rio - Y: HEY SHARK WHAT’S AN ANAL PROLAPSE?

-Yuuma can hike 20 miles up hill and not break a sweat. He cannot handle walking three miles in a major city.

-Every now and then, Yuuma actually pronounces a high end brand or ~fancy~ food correctly. Ryouga is weak.

-Ryouga and Rio are mixed. Their mother is French. Ryouga’s “English” name is, of course, Reginald.

-Yuuma breaks out “Reginald” only in severe cases. Otherwise he’s “Shark” 99% of the time.

Y: wait what’s Rio’s English name?

R: ……Rio. It’s easy since it’s a western name.

Y: oh like the city in Brazil?

R: Ugh Yuuma no Rio’s isn’t located in-…..wait, you said Brazil? That’s……correct. Wow.

Y: I saw the movie! Did you know there are only two blue macaws left in the wild?

R: *taking off pants* god I love you

-Picture the “so no head?” Vine but with Ryouga and ripping a multi-million dollar donation to a zoo/aquarium when one of his favorite sharks is off display

-Ryouga has a 12 step Korean skin care routine. Yuuma washes his face with Dawn dish soap

@crestfraldarius please reblog ones I forgot I know we have more

I REMEMBER MORE EDIT:

-Ryouga rolls his joints with gold leaf. Just because. He also has a Mexican drug kingpin on speed dial. Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to

-Kaito has to be a chaperone when middle school Yuuma and Ryouga go to the mall for a date because they need an adult after 6pm. Kaito gets sick of Ryouga being nervous to make a move and calls him out on it frequently (“HOLD HIS FUCKIN HAND, RYOUGA” “Listen here you teeny bopper twink I am going to go to the bathroom and if you don’t KISS HIM by the time I get back I will show the world your self insert fanfic collection.”)