#like... one of my goals is to get buffer i suppose but i find that that goal isn't helpful when it is my main goal

[kxsagi]

idea!!! pov; ur nagis gf and hes gone to blue lock but you miss him lots😞😞 so???? you visit his apartment,, clean it a little and fall asleep in his bed

but nagi!!!!! he bought a day off from bllk (the 10 goals thing) to see you!!! but you were zzzz so you didnt answer his calls or msgs

he goes to his apartment and finds you asleep,, so he gets into bed w you and you turn over into his chest 😝😝 (such a cheesy idea BUT I LOVEEE)

“𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭”

a/n: do you think… if you were dating nagi… reo would get mad jealous

nagi doesn’t even check if the door’s locked when he gets back. he’s too tired to care, dragging his suitcase behind him with one hand and his phone in the other. seventeen missed calls. five messages left on read. you ghosted him. 

well, not really. you just weren’t answering. 

his head tips back with a sigh as he walks into the apartment. “guess she’s busy…” 

but something’s… different. 

the place doesn’t smell like stale chips anymore. the pile of laundry in the corner is missing. his prized gaming chair is no longer covered in snack crumbs and crumpled convenience store bags. he blinks slowly at his own apartment like it betrayed him. 

“eh… did someone break in and clean?” 

then he hears it. 

a soft little breath. the quiet shift of blankets. nagi turns his head. 

and there you are. 

fast asleep in his bed, face squished into his pillow, wearing one of his old shirts that’s way too big on you. your phone lies face-down on the nightstand. he can see the messages he sent you glowing faintly on the screen. 

sei 🎮

r u home 

hello 

i got the day off 

ten goals 

come see me 

…or i’ll come get u 

he blinks again. for a second, he just stands there, staring like his brain’s buffering. ten whole goals. he spent ten goals bargaining with ego for a day off, sprinted out of blue lock like a madman, and you were here the whole time. napping. like a little cat. 

“… seriously?” he mumbles, but there’s no bite to it. honestly, his heart feels like it might fall out of his chest. 

quietly, he sets his bag down and pads over. he hesitates for like 0.2 seconds before climbing into bed with you, careful not to wake you, until you shift in your sleep. 

and turn over right into his chest. 

your arm wraps around his waist, face pressing into his hoodie. you mumble his name, barely awake. “sei…” 

nagi freezes. 

and then? 

he melts. 

fully, completely, into a useless puddle of warmth and affection. his arms wrap around you before he even thinks about it, and he buries his face in your hair with a sleepy, quiet groan. “you didn’t answer my calls,” he mumbles. 

you blink up at him, still barely conscious. “you weren’t supposed to be home yet…” 

“used ten goals.” 

“… ten? sei, that’s too much.” 

“worth it.” he tugs you closer. “you cleaned my apartment. that’s love.” 

“i missed you.” 

“yeah,” he whispers, voice so soft it’s almost a sigh. “me too.” 

he doesn’t say anything else. just lies there holding you, pressing the occasional lazy kiss to your forehead, mumbling something about how he’s not going back to blue lock until they drag him away. 

(it takes approximately four hours and a threatening voice message from reo before he even considers moving.) 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

a/n #2: baby nagi was the cutest kid i said what i said

[vitrious-simulacrum]

Deus Volt!

Release date: circa 2008 (original), 2022 (completed)

Based on: Marathon Infinity

**TRANSMISSION START**

Deus Volt! is a small (7 levels + 1 secret level) fan scenario by Synchronicity13 on simplici7y.com/Penultimatum on Discord, comparable to more bite-sized scenarios like Kill Them All! and Return To Marathon, but with sensitivities of more modern level design.

Taking place in the industral centre Ckuidt'kqe, of the Vylae homeworld, the SO is sent down there after the Pfhor have taken it and use it as an epicenter for their operations against humanity. However, Blake and his men decide to mount a counter-offense, only to be shot down and stuck with more sneaky tactics on land. Now, the Officer is going to lend a hand to this operation and learn what exactly the Pfhor are doing here.

Our Lord Debussy

To start with something, I must say that DV is a pretty scenario—it does a wonderful job using the standard MI textures to create subterranean caves, vibrant towers, mining operations and vagrant spaceships throughout its levels. There's also a great sense of build up throughout the scenario as you are taken deeper and deeper into Pfhor-controlled territory, leading to the centerpiece and probably my favorite levels in the scenario, Have Fun At War/Aren't We All Running?: a complete and total assault of the center Pfhor command on the taken Vylae citadel.

Two Minutes To Midnight

Over anything, Deus Volt focuses most in its combat, which unlike some of the more explorative or story-focused scenarios, wants you to be as aggressive as possible, deliberately pacing shield rechargers and pattern buffers such that it's better to run forward, shotgun wasting soldiers and Enforcers through a hallway to get to the next save, not scared of using precious ammo as it's most likely you'll find a munitions stash teleporting in.

If I had to put up a weak point for DV, it would be both its story and sometimes the ambiguity of some level goals (one of which is related to the secret level): while starting with Blake as your command, Durandal soon appears as you take upon the Pfhor command, eventually discovering that the teleporter in a closeby mine links to a Jjaro dreadnought with something great in its mainframe, something great enough that both Pfhor and human ships are beginning to appear.

Atom Heart Mother

Once you intrude deep into the mainframe and reactivate it, Durandal is quickly overwhelmed at whatever was awoken and cutoff entirely, revealing that the thing inside is... Leela. For fans, this might suggest this dreadnaught is actually the vessel where her remains were loaded that is mentioned on the M2 endscreen, one which was sold to the Vylae.

Reactivated, Leela decides to take you from Durandal to parts unknown... and that's that. While plot in shorter scenarios like this aren't really the focus, it does leave me wanting more. Perhaps that's a good thing, if you think about it, if there ever is a sequel to Deus Vult. Time shall tell. Oh, as for the other negative: some levels, especially those larger and a bit more sprawling, can be a bit vague on what you're supposed to do. My biggest one during my play was Two Minutes To Midnight, where I found myself stuck for a good couple of minutes because a door was textured in such a way that it didn't seem like a door.

But, beyond those two issues, Deus Volt is an excellent scenario for an afternoon or two. Short, with a wallop for combat nuts and sights for those with a slower pace.

**TRANSMISSION FINISHED** <Further Access Denied>

[bookofmirth]

after rereading the series and finally finishing silver flames ( which i truly enjoyed, even when there were points which felt disappointing and a little incoherent ) i feel like i can finally pinpoint what is so jarring to me regarding this series. It just seems so disjointed, which becomes especially apparent after reading MaF and the immediately reading WaR.

We move from the first two novels of the series, which are coherent and clean, to WaR - which is hoenstly just a mess, something which was so blatant to me on the reread. during this time, it’s clear that sjm made several massive changes to link this book to the future spin offs, and also obviously changes her original plan to pair mor and azriel - which monumentally changes the way that the previous book is read, and the perception of their characters.

Even with FaS - setting up for cassian and nestas story, sjm completely changes direction between this release and silver flames. And all of that lead up with the Illyrian rebellions and cassians not being respected as a bastard, and his mission fighting for Illyrian female rights - amounts to absolutely nothing.

Don’t get me wrong, I really really enjoyed silver flames, and perhaps some of these ideas will crop up in azriels book and therefore won’t be wasted. But it just makes the series feel disjointed and leaves me at least, feeling unfulfilled.

Sjm is such a good author, in ToG the plot was expertly executed and when you reread the series, you can see hints and foreshadowing even back to book one. She knew exactly where she was going almost from the beginning, and each decision and plot point was used to create impact and build up to the ending. I don’t get that with acotar.

There is so so so much build, and almost no pay off - and I really got that sense in acosf, I loved it as a stand alone - but when we look at it through the perspective of the entire series, there were things which grated and a lot of things which I felt were built up to and nothing happened... Tomas, Cassians mother ( was so sure we would learn where she was buried at least ) the Illyrian rebellions and the Illyrians hatred and disrespect towards Cassian, Mor and Nestas relationship, CASSIAN AND MORS RELATIONSHIP ( I understand that the mor situation will be something which is focused upon primarily in azriels book, or hopefully her own, however their relationship involves Cassian as much as them both and I really wish Cassian had actually confronted the part he played in that whole situation - a part he played for 500 (!!!!) years. It’s a role which he was unable to relinquish in ACOWAR, and actively rejects Nesta to act as a buffer multiple times, seeing it as an obligation almost - and then in SF, pays it no attention at all. Feyre and Nestas relationship also isn’t really touched upon, as if that final act healed everything - what about that interrupted conversation in the library, when Nesta was cut off ? Why Nesta always favoured Elain, even Amren and Nesta - we still don’t really know what happened there... argh there’s just so much potential and so much set up, and it just seems forgotten about ? It makes the book seem disjointed and a bit of a let down.

Yesss I totally get what you mean here. ToG is honestly the superior series, and it’s because it has the cohesion that acotar doesn’t. Everything feels like it’s meant to be there, each character, each worldbuilding detail, their histories, everything just comes together in a wonderful way that just wrecked me when EoS came out and then was resolved perfectly in KoA.

Compared to that, acotar feels like sjm is figuring things out along the way and it is seriously driving me nuts. I’ve had multiple conversations with other people in Discords and they’ve said similar things. acotar at this point feels like sjm is just coming up with random ass ideas and throwing them in. No book in the series feels more like that than acowar. And it was that point where we knew that there would be more books, right? So combined with the fact that she pounded that book out and it got rather half-assed editing, you’re probably right that a lot of things were changed in order to set up the other books, even though it didn’t make sense with what she’d written before. 

I agree with you re: Mor and Az, and I feel like I’ve been seeing more people say that lately? That there is a feeling that they actually were supposed to be together and she changed her mind? I wrote a bunch of fics for them back in the day and they’ve gotten a bit more attention lately. But once acowar came out I was like, I’m gonna reread, and I’m gonna find all the clues, I’m gonna see where all this build-up was, and.... considering how often people say that sjm is so “good” at foreshadowing, I’m sorry, but not in this series. In ToG, yes, because she had a clear goal at the end! She knew where she was going and she stayed on that path. In acotar, idfk. Anyway my point is that I’ve reread the series a couple of times through since acowar came out and I’m still over here shrugging because up until that point, Mor and Az could be read in completely opposite ways. (Maybe it’s an Azriel thing, given the current discourse, idk.)

I will say, however, that we had clues that there was tension between them and I had noted that Az is quiet troubled and even pre-acomaf, I would not have been surprised by his extra in acosf. But all of that could have been addressed with Mor and Az still being together? We all had plenty of explanations at the time for the tension, and Mor being queer was like 1 of 100 of those explanations. 

If we look at Mor’s character through the books we have so far, I still see almost zero signs that she’s queer except for her literally saying “I like women and Rita’s has a lot of women and here’s my gay story”. Other than that, there is like..... nothing that feels organically queer about her!!! And I love her and I want her to be gay af!!!! But I wonder if my forgiveness of how acowar went down was more about my personal reaction than how well the story was actually done.

And the fact that, like you said, there is still no resolution to the fact that Cassian is supposedly a buffer between Mor and Azriel? Like???? We were all sitting here after acowar thinking “okay, well if she’s gay then someone knows. Someone has to know. She can’t just be gay and NO ONE WHO LOVES HER KNOWS.” 

Then in comes acosf with a big “fuck you, y’all thought” which just.... to me, it signals that her queerness was an afterthought. It’s still an afterthought because her queerness is limited to Mor and women blushing at her and Mor has her corner of the world in which she can be gay, but that gay never spills out into any other aspect of her life. It’s just conveniently isolated so that it doesn’t touch or affect other characters. 

In terms of continuity, acowar was such a huge shifting point in the series that people left in droves. It was a huge mess in the fandom. And then acofas was just fluff with no real point in pushing the story forward - even the Nesta stuff was a sneak peek, it had nothing to do with acofas itself. And now acosf comes in ignoring things she had set up previously, with almost zero nuanced discussion of the Cassian/Azriel/Mor thing, which means she still (?) doesn’t know what’s going on there. And I think that we did get some answers with Nesta’s reflection on her relationship with her mother, but the deal with the Illyrian rebellion was just in the way so let’s nix that, and then let’s focus on Eris (🤮) just because she feels like it even though she’s set up all these other characters whose stories need more. (Much like acowar, this paragraph is a MESS LOL)

And yes I KNOW that the series isn’t over, clearly, but she keeps setting things up and then letting them go nowhere, or making them seem important and then resolving them off-page, or changing character relationships (Mor and Az) but then having the characters involved act exactly the same, as if nothing had changed (by having the “buffer” situation still exist as a real thing).

I did enjoy the book, a lot, it was a fun read. But tbh we have so many arguments and disagreements within the fandom rn because things have been so left open to interpretation that we it’s not even a matter of “oh I saw this slightly differently”, it’s “WHAT book did these people even read???” That’s kinda weird, to me. There is reader response, and then there is what we have now, which is people having absolute opposite reactions to what they think happened in acosf. 

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Re: Star Wars prequel novelizations - the Revenge of the Sith book is genuinely one of the best things I have ever read and changed my life.

THANK YOU, anon, for reminding me about the Revenge of the Sith novelization.  I just reread it, and my crops are watered, my skin is clear, and — I cannot overstate this — I actually remember why I love Star Wars.  That love has been for too long stolen by The Fandom Menace sucking the life out of those movies to invent a new definition of suffering while digesting them slowly over a thousand years.

Revenge of the Sith by Matthew Stover is one of the greatest works of adventure fiction I have ever read, and it continues to inspire the way I write action sequences and character conflicts.  It does so damn much to transform a movie that is, to be honest, just okay.  There are a couple of big additions from the novel that make the whole Skywalker saga richer, and there are about five hundred little tweaks that deepen the lore in a way that shows that Stover loves Star Wars to the core.

First big addition: having Obi-Wan tell Padmé that he’s in love with Anakin. This is great because yay, queer representation!  But within the specific context of RotS, it also sets up the super-important contrast between Obi-Wan and Anakin.  Obi-Wan, Stover’s novel makes clear, is the quiet and unassuming embodiment of everything a Jedi is supposed to be: he’s selfless, loving, hard-working, and incredibly skilled with the Force.  Obi-Wan falls in love with Anakin, realizes that Anakin doesn’t love him back in that way, and... lives with it.  He spends time with Anakin, supports Anakin, enjoys Anakin’s company, and doesn’t act like the world will end if Anakin isn’t his.

Anakin loves Obi-Wan, in a siblinglike way, and he loves Padmé.  But he’s got a nasty habit of expressing that love through possession and control, through going behind Padmé’s back to “fix” her life without her permission.  Anakin falls in love with Padmé and immediately concludes that he cannot possibly live like this: they must begin a secret relationship, and he must both marry her and remain a Jedi.  Later he destroys the Jedi and eventually Padmé herself because he sees himself as having no way out of that dilemma.

And all the while, Obi-Wan is there in the background.  Also in love with someone with whom he cannot have a relationship, and just… dealing with it like an adult.  Because millions of people are in love with people who don’t love them back, and that’s just how it is sometimes.  It’s selfish to obsess over “having” their love at all costs.  For Anakin, that obsession with saving Obi-Wan and Padmé eventually leads to him killing them both.

When Yoda tells Anakin that he must deal with his fear of losing Padmé through letting go, Anakin takes this to mean “let her die.”  But what Yoda means is not “let her die,” but rather “love her the way Obi-Wan loves you: quietly, selflessly, and with a willingness to do what’s best for her, whether or not that means you get to have her.”  And Anakin never understands that, because Anakin’s view of the world is so intensely egocentric.

Second big addition: updating the Force to explain the Dark Side. Revenge of the Sith, even more so than any other Star Wars, is all about the contrast between the Dark Side and the Light Side.  Here, Stover’s contribution is brilliant; he makes the Dark Side egocentric and the Light allocentric.

Terminology! “Egocentric” in psych refers to the perspective that focuses on how the world affects you and how you affect the world.  At the extreme, egocentric thinking can be believing that a baby is crying in a deliberate effort to annoy you, or that every person in a crowded cafeteria will remember what shirt you wore when you ate there a week ago.  “Allocentric” refers to the perspective that the self is one of several disparate elements buffered around by the world.  At the extreme, allocentric thinking can be failing to realize that others are reacting to your presence, or viewing your own life as one thing you can give to help others.

Stover doesn’t use those terms, but he does describe how Dooku “drew power into his innermost being until the Force itself existed only to serve his will” (p. 64).  Later, Obi-Wan “gave himself to the living Force… the Force moved him, let him collapse as though he’d suddenly fainted, then it brought his lightsaber from his belt to his hand” (p. 285).  Dooku ultimately loses his fight against Anakin because he focuses on how everyone is responding to him, and misses that Anakin and Palpatine are beginning to build an alternate alliance right under his nose.  Obi-Wan ultimately wins his fight against Anakin because he allows the Force to shove him around, and sets aside his concern with both his own life and that of his best friend while fighting for the greater goal of peace.

Not only that, but Obi-Wan’s understanding of the Force moves beyond that of most Jedi.  He compares “the will of the Force” to “the will of gravity,” in essence stating that simply because it is beyond human comprehension doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its own rules.  One can be a Jedi without needing to understand the Force in the same way one can be a pilot without needing to be a physicist.  In RotS, we see that his refrain of “search your feelings” is a way of calling on a Force user to be mindful enough to accept realities that are already evident, if one can only allow oneself to have that knowledge.

Stover also uses these competing perspectives — allocentric and egocentric — to explain why the Jedi Order falls.  The tight control the Order exerts over the Jedi moves them away from the will of the Force and toward the will of the Council.  Its insularity creates a sense of superiority, which is the reason so many Jedi fail to see their clone troopers as threats until it’s too late. Stover tweaks the Jedi Purge scene to emphasize that the only reason Obi-Wan and Yoda survive is because of their selflessness.  Obi-Wan takes the time to befriend his alien mount, repeatedly confirming her well-being, and then she shields him with her body when his troopers open fire.  Yoda respects the Wookie command and puts himself in a position to assist rather than lead the resistance movement on Kashyyyk, meaning that when a fight breaks out between him and his troopers the Wookies don’t hesitate to side with him.  Yoda and Obi-Wan are the only two Jedi who truly give themselves to the service of others, and thus they are the only two to survive the Purge.

...and the million little favors this book does for the movie.

During the opening battle, having Obi-Wan tell Anakin to “use the Force” to fly a narrow trench and having Anakin roll his eyes at such an obvious suggestion.  It’s a callback to A New Hope, but one that drives home how much more the Force is integrated in the lives of Old Republic Jedi than it is in the lives of Imperial kids like Luke.

Fixing the minor continuity error from Episode III to Episode IV — why would Admiral Motti dismiss Vader as following outdated superstitions if there were millions of Jedi within his lifetime? — by explicitly stating that the Sith are considered a dead culture.  Ergo, Vader’s “ancient religion” isn’t the Force in general; it’s specifically the Sith creed.

Making Palpatine scarier and more seductive than he is in the movie.  Stover’s rhetoric about killing even the Jedi children is frighteningly rational and coherent, and he uses it to give Palpatine some stomach-churning speeches while corrupting Anakin.

Using the novel format for all it’s worth.  Stover skims over the physical-comedy elevator sequence in favor of having Dooku and Palpatine discussing their plans for the war.  He only tells us about Anakin’s conversation with Yoda after the fact, in scattered flashes as a panicking Anakin runs through the halls of the Jedi temple.  He gives us intense focus on Anakin’s mindset while trying to land the broken halves of Invisible Hand, less on what the ship itself is doing.  He cuts away from Anakin and Obi-Wan’s final battle, toward R2D2 and C3PO as they struggle to drag a dying Padmé into her ship out of a desperation to find some small way to help her.

Revealing that Palpatine spends the entire story trying to kill Obi-Wan.  This gets hinted at in the movie, but Stover includes several moments throughout Palpatine’s “rescue” from Dooku when Palpatine sets Obi-Wan up to die, and mentions like eight other attempts on Obi-Wan’s life as orchestrated by Palpatine.  It’s a great character addition, that Palpatine assumes he cannot get Anakin to fall unless he first eliminates Obi-Wan.

Expanding Padmé’s role in the movie (set dressing, and later refrigerator filling) by having her secretly organize and launch the Rebel Alliance right under Vader and Palpatine’s noses.

Those are just examples of how Stover clearly knows the Force, gets the Force, and strives to make the Force more internally coherent.  How he sometimes translates, sometimes preserves, and always improves the pacing and tone of the film.

I haven’t even touched on the FUCKING AMAZEBALLS imagery or introspection in the book yet, but this post is getting wicked long, so I’ll go ahead and leave it here for now.  Point is, all y’all should go out immediately and get a copy from your library and/or used bookstore, because Nonny is right and it’ll change your life.

[petals42]

hello! whenever you get a chance, i'd love to hear your thoughts/advice on attempting longfic and following through on longfic. hope you're having a great day!

Hello! Of course, I’d be happy to offer my advice, such as it is.

1. Don’t think of it as writing longfic.

You can really psych yourself out if you declare that you are setting out to write a longfic or even if you are setting a goal of trying to hit a certain word count (or range of words). Just tell yourself you are going to write the story you want to write; write the words you need to tell the story. Every longfic I’ve written has lowkey been an accident; otherwise I freak myself out and don’t write them. Also not worrying about word count avoids falling into the trap of unnaturally “stretching out” scenes or adding unncessary scenes that will actually only slow down/hurt your story in the long run.

2. Write chronologically.

This might just be me, but it is one of my golden rules. Usually the scenes I really want to get to are in the middle/towards the end (aka like... the climax). If I skipped ahead and wrote them, there’s no way all the harder opening scenes would get done. So I am very strict with myself. Sometimes I will write like a line of dialogue that comes later if I really don’t want to forget it, but I try not to. And I find it easier to weave in foreshadowing and realistic character development if I’m writing in order.

3. Keep track of scenes you want to write so you don’t forget them.

This is going to be very based on your preferences; I am not a planner or outliner. But I do generally have a bullet point list of scenes that need to happen in a rough order. I sometimes do not actually follow it and scenes usually get added (a lot of scenes get added tbh. like HUGE chunks of my fics are just on the fly ideas, you would not believe) but it’s helpful to know where you are going. (If you are someone who likes to outline and plan, let me know. Some writers have done amazing how-to-outline posts. I just am not organized. Even the one outline I have is just rough bullet points that rarely gets followed).

4. Stop writing mid-scene instead of at the end of scenes. 

This helps me get back into it the next day/next time I have an opportunity to write. At times I’ve even gone midsentence if I am pretty sure I will remember how that sentence is supposed to end. 

5. When you start writing, re-read at least a chunk of what you wrote the day before.

Like #4, it just helps me get back in the mood.

6. Go ahead, post that WIP.

I know some authors do not want to do this and some readers hate this, but I like to start posting WIPs when I am about 3-4 chapters ahead. Like I will post Chapter 1, when I am writing Chapter 4. Since I tend towards longer chapters (7-10k), this is a decent chunk. For me, that is a big enough buffer that I won’t feel pressured to write and I should be able to update roughly once a week, but I will (hopefully) get the encouragement and excitement from kudos/comments to get me through some of the slog of a longfic. And, hey, if life happens and you don’t finish it, you still gave them half a great fic. No pressure either way.

7. Stop reading fic - use that time for writing! Also, it’s bad for your confidence.

I have to cut myself off from reading fic when I’m writing especially fic that is in the same fandom. I literally just fell into this trap. I wrote 2k of an old guard fic in a setting, decided to give myself a break to read some fic, and then I was like “ah shit this is good I don’t need to write mine urgh mine cannot live up to this. i hate it and don’t even know where i was going” and I literally have not written since. All because I broke my own rule! Don’t do it! Just stay away from the fandom you are writing in!

8. Take your time and have fun, but be consistent.

This, again, may just be me. But if I’m going to do a longer fic, I have to commit. Generally, my fics stall out if I’m going more than 7 days between writing sessions. At that point, it’s a sign the story isn’t on my mind that much and that makes every writing session harder to get back in that mindset. Obviously, life happens, but if you find yourself going weeks between writing at all, it’s going to be harder. See what you can do to make a system where you writing (at least a little) as often as possible.

9. Be chill with smaller writing sessions.

You don’t have to write an entire scene or chapter in a day! It’s still a win if you can sneak on before bed and add at least a few lines. I am literally trying to reteach myself this rule right now because I’m putting too much pressure on myself to write big chunks and thus “only bothering” to start writing when I know I have an hour or two to do so and I need to stop! So putting this on for you, but also for me.

Well, I was going to try to get to an even ten, but this is all I got. Also, thank you for sending me this ask. Not only is it an honor to be asked, but as I am starting to try to write a fic that I think will be longer for the first time in a while, these were pieces of advice that I really needed to remind myself!

Hope you have a good one! :)

[fountainpenguin]

It’s an Update

Hello, Riddle here! I know I’ve been pretty quiet on Tumblr lately. Here’s an update on my situation:

I will definitely post more fanfic updates soon. I’ve picked at drafts, but haven’t posted anything lately. Here are the reasons why:

I got a new IRL job. It’s a good fit for me, but I have less free time than I used to, of course. It’s a job that involves writing lots of articles on a variety of topics, and I enjoy how every day is a little different

Most of my free time for the last year has gone towards my mod work at the Creature-Crossing ARPG, and to my personal CC writing. I’ve been working on new activities over there (my recent favorite being our seasonal familiar shows... I won first place in the summer show!) and I have a lot of plot plans that are coming together now. If you ever want to see my original characters and read my CC writing, you can find my character directory HERE and my Table of Contents HERE.

Once November 1st hits, I won’t be preparing for the release of any more CC activities or events. All future activity or event releases will be overseen by the other mods, and I’ll simply be someone they can ask for extra help if needed. This is a big change for a mod who spent the last 12 months working on new releases, and will give me back some of the free time my IRL job will eat

The Creature-Crossing admin (my boss) greenlit my request to bring an assistant on the mod team who will specifically help me with a lot of my behind-the-scenes work, such as data entry and organization. I’ve never had another mod who specifically helps me with the back end duties before, so that will be awesome. I will need to spend some time training them, but once they are official, that will take some of my workload off and allow me more free time for this blog and personal writing time.

===

Fanfic updates you can expect to see soon:

- Reedfilter Rules

- Frayed Knots

- Origin of the Pixies

- Debut of Factor It In, my Kid Math-centric “WordGirl” fanfic (Subtitled “Tales of a third-grade superhero in training”)... Yes I am still in love with this idiot boy, expect lots of doodle pages soon

- The 130 Prompts project is on a slow-burn writing schedule... I’ll write for it when I want to, but I mostly want to focus on Origin and Knots this year.

Further info below the cut. There is more info about non-Fairly OddParents ‘fics in here too (under “non-FOP fanfics”), so if you’re looking forward to Mario World or “WordGirl” ‘fics from me, give this a click so you know what’s coming!

So, what does this update mean for your fanfics?

They’ll be active again soon! I’ve been picking at them behind the scenes, trying to build up a buffer. In an ideal world, I would love to release a new chapter for SOMETHING every Friday. I doubt this will be possible, but it’s something I would love to work towards in the future. Realistically, you can probably expect some kind of fanfic update once every two Fridays (two updates per month).

There might be some Fridays where posting an update is not possible. Instead, I’ll make a post about what progress I made instead. In the past, I often overworked myself to get a chapter out in time for my old deadline. I will not be doing that anymore, but will instead hold myself to a goal of “Make progress on something every week.”

In the best ideal world, I would love to post one FOP fanfic update per week and one non-FOP fanfic update per week. This is not likely to happen for a long, long time, but that would be the dream.

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Here are the things I most likely worked on if there is no fanfic update:

- A fanfic chapter draft that needs more time

- A sideblog profile

- A Toyhouse profile for personal characters

- IRL work or mod work may have kept me busy this week

- Creature-Crossing writing... I will try to prioritize my fanfics more, but my CC writing is still important to me and I will be working on it in a lot of my free time too. At the moment, I have a hard deadline of December 14th that I need to meet if I want to release huge plot drama on the day that it happens in canon. I’ve been building up to this for a long time, so I’m really excited about that.

I currently have summer or autumn 2022 planned as the “finale” for the majority of my plot to explode. I will be hosting a member-run event in Creature-Crossing that will last for two months, so a lot of my time from January until the event’s release will be spent doing event prep. Once the event ends, my story content will mostly be a “return to slice of life.” Stories will be more casual one-offs as characters grow, live their lives, and start their own families. Hitting seasonal deadlines for plot will no longer be so important. I’ll be giving Creature-Crossing work less attention after that, and much more attention to my fanfics.

- I may not have a fanfic chapter out each week, but I WILL post a note every Friday to let you know what I have been doing with my time. You’ll see me around. Feel free to send Asks and talk!

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What non-FOP fanfics would you like to work on?

For literal years, I’ve been claiming I want to post Mario World fanfics. This is still something I want to do. I tag Mario World posts as “mushrooms and more.” I’ve already done a lot of worldbuilding, I have thousands of words of content written for this fandom... I just haven’t posted any of it. I hope to do this soon.

- “WordGirl” fanfics are prioritized over Mario World fanfics. After I finish my first “WordGirl” multi-chapter, I will probably be ready to post my Mario World ‘fics. I may possibly post some Mario World one-shots in between other fanfic updates. Might take another year or more before I touch Mario stuff unless there’s high interest in seeing it sooner?

I also really want to write some WordGirl ‘fics and get more involved with the fandom community. I’ve been building headcanons and lore for this show ever since I was a kid, and I have multiple ‘fics for this fandom that I want to write.

- “AlgoRhythm” is a ‘fic I have already posted on FFN and AO3, about WordGirl introducing Kid Math to the villains in town

- 28 Cities is a ‘fic I started about Rhyme and Reason before they arrived in Fair City. I put it on hiatus since it didn’t seem like anyone was interested, but I’m willing to post more for it if there is interest in it now that years have passed and I’ve gotten more followers who like WordGirl. I have a lot of worldbuilding and plot I never shared for it

- Factor It In is a ‘fic I’ve been working for a while that parallels the official show from the moment Kid Math arrives in town. It focuses on Rex’s struggle to adjust to this world as a child coming into his superpowers for the first time (Y’know, the whole “superheroes don’t have powers when they’re on their home planets” thing), his struggle to adapt to the social world of a non-logical planet, and Becky’s struggle to help him become accustomed to Earth and learn to share it with her as well. If the episode “Kid Math” was a full-length novel about Rex’s arrival and character development, that’s what this story is. This is the highest priority of all my non-FOP ‘fics... I’ve had a cover image made for 6 months and even though I tried setting it aside, I’ve always been super inspired to write for it. If I felt like it would be a good idea to commit to weekly updates alongside my FOP updates, I would, haha.

- I have two one-shot WIPs called “Squishy Feelings” and “A Little Ambiguity”, one of them focusing on Becky and Rex talking about the events of “Rhyme and Reason” and what it means for Rex’s secret identity, and the latter being a future ‘fic showing WordGirl and Kid Math dealing with life 10 to 15 years down the road. I’ll probably post the latter, not sure yet on the former.

- If desired, I may make a WordGirl specific sideblog where I post lore, answer Asks, post character profiles [smaller than my FOP sideblog ones], and mention fanfic updates. If you would be interested in this, feel free to send me an Ask requesting I do this. If there’s not interest, I’ll just keep my WordGirl stuff on the main blog.

- I’d like to get more involved in the WordGirl community, so I’ll probably post more content and reblog more art and headcanons

I also have a handful of miscellaneous ideas I might follow through with. I’d like to write at least one “TUFF Puppy” fanfic so I can say I did. In a perfect world I would like to finish the two “Danny Phantom” and “Bunsen Is a Beast” fanfics I started because... I just kind of want to dip my toe in each of the Hartman shows once since I already went through all the effort of worldbuilding for them to make them canon in a single Hartman show universe. “ChalkZone” is another show I adore and might touch someday (You may recall I have a full outline planned for an FOP/ChalkZone crossover ‘fic called “Dust to Dust”).

Will I write all of these things? Maybe not. I have no idea if I want to spend the next 10+ years writing fanfics, or if I’ll simply be done with all misc. fanfics immediately once I decide to be done with my main ‘fics. I definitely intend to write for a few more years and finish my main ‘fics, but I might not go through with some less popular side ‘fics if life is getting busy for me.

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What is the posting schedule for FOP ‘fics?

Reedfilter Rules, Frayed Knots, Origin of the Pixies, the 130 Prompts project, and “Come What May” are all high priority FOP writings. I will swap between them depending on my mood that week.

Here are some other ‘fics I want to work on.

- If you like, you can send me Asks requesting I work on a specific story above the rest. I will try to prioritize whichever stories interest you guys most.

Snips and Snails is a ‘fic I started and posted the first chapter for years ago. I’m not sure when I will get back to it, as I ran into some writer’s block. It’s still on tentative hiatus for now..... Possibly forever, though I hope it isn’t forever since it’s only supposed to be, like, five more chapters.

Pink and Gray is on official hiatus. I actually have a lot written for it, but I know it’s a little weird to put so much time and energy into Gary and Betty content when... well, let’s be honest: they’re my niche favorites and most of you probably don’t care. So, I am lifting my usual “no spoilers” policy from my Ask Box. If you would like to ask about my Gary and Betty backstory headcanons, feel free. I will tag my replies as “ridwriting spoilers” for anyone who wants to blacklist the tag, and spoilers will be hidden under a Read More line. 

I’d like to return to this story someday because there are tons of things I like about it (ranging from Betty’s secret tattoos to Gary’s plot drama with his mom to the background drama between Talon and Anti-Cosmo, but I always feel immense pressure to make it extra cool to make up for the fact these are weird side characters, so... it’s officially at the bottom of the priority pile. Once Talon shows up in Frayed Knots and readers understand who he is and why he exists, I’ll consider coming back to it.

Identity Theft is a story about Foop and his time in the alternate dimension he was flung into following the episode “Playdate of Doom.” To put it short, Foop was abused by alternate versions of his parents in this dimension and he witnessed some pretty intense stuff, including the death of the alt version of himself who existed in that reality. The trauma he experienced resulted in his alternate personality, Hiccup. Foop himself has very few memories of what happened, as Hiccup has all of those memories. This story is canon in my works, and it is regularly referred to during the 130 Prompts as part of Foop’s backstory. It’s my highest priority side story to work on.

Along the Cherry Lane is a 20-chapter work focusing on the lives of the main human cast from age 11 to age 30, with one chapter showing a snippet of their lives each year. You see Timmy raising Tommy and Tammy in this ‘fic, and it ends with them receiving godparents. Since the 130 Prompts don’t give humans much attention, this ‘fic does. You’ll probably see it debut two years from now, closer to when the 130 Prompts is ready to talk more about humans.

If this becomes a popular ‘fic of mine, I’ll probably write a sequel or continue it past Chapter 30 and write about Tammy and Tommy living with fairies, but I won’t if there’s no interest in that.

Little Imperfections is a Pixie AU ‘fic of mine about what life would be like in a universe where the Fairies are even more like insects than I play them as during my main works (where I already play them as semi-similar to insects). In this world, the Head Pixie is a figurehead whose duty is to reproduce for the sake of the colony and do nothing else, and he’s bored out of his mind until he befriends Sanderson, who introduces him to music. It’s extremely self-indulgent and silly because I like Pixies.

Francis is a multi-chapter ‘fic about bully Francis’s life getting yet another fairy godparent in a long string of memory wipes and godparents. It takes place during the canon series, and when you see an “orange fairy” mentioned in some of my writings, it’s usually referring to this fairy. His name is Rover and I occasionally post art of him. I feel like I can’t truly call myself an FOP fanfic writer until I actually write about a godkid and their godparents, haha...

Hawthorn Haven is a side ‘fic that will be posted towards the end of the 130 Prompts, as it veers off from the prompts in its own self-contained multi-chapter story. It will be approximately the length of “Baby, You’re a Rich Man.”

Acacia Arcadia is a far-past ‘fic detailing the fall of the ancient fae, the imprisonment of the nature spirits, the rise and fall of the chimera nation, the fall of the Martian genies, and the early days of the cloudlands. This is close to the bottom of the priority pile... It’s something I spend time on for personal reference to ensure accuracy in my other ‘fics, but it’s probably not what you guys came here to read.

AA has a bunch of characters in it that you might vaguely recognize, such as Ezekiel Whimsifinado, Evadne, Ione, Two Feathers, Rho, and Sablewood (If you’re astute, you might recall cloudland legends and landmarks in modern day that refer back to these characters). There are also a lot of characters who were reincarnated as Anti-Fairies, in accordance to traditional Anti-Fairy beliefs; Foop for example exists as a main character in one of his past lives, and you’ll see a hint dropped about each of his lives in the first chapter of Identity Theft. My tentative plan is to use Foop’s past lives as my central characters, following the events of each part of the timeline until he gets killed and reincarnates at a later point of the timeline.

I also keep some one-shots in a file I call Mixed Nuts and I may possibly post them someday (they’re mostly just one-shots of main cast characters I do to get a feel for their personalities, I have some Wanda and Cupid in here). @zachbrightside and I are also working on a collab ‘fic called Like a House On Fire that shows more of Timmy and Chloe’s lives during Season 10 (especially around the time of “Which Is Wish?”) No news on a release date for that yet.

-

As I’ve said before, once all my other FOP works are complete, I will write Devil’s Backbone, which is my far-future ‘fic and the finale of my FOP writing. I do not plan to write any more FOP content after that story is finished, as I expect to have all other FOP projects done by then.

- Devil’s Backbone is a finale 'fic, so all worldbuilding from all stories is fair game to blend together, and it’s highly recommended you read everything else first. This story has been outlined since 2016, and it might not be published for another 10 years... Who knows! But it’s something I always work towards as a concrete endgame goal.

- If something serious comes up in my life and I officially decide I don’t want to write this story, I will post the outline for it. The link to this draft is included with all the other Google Docs links I have in a far-future queued post unveiling my WIPs in case I unexpectedly die and you still want to know how my stories would have gone, so you’ll get access to this story eventually even if I die young. Yes, share access is turned on for them all and I do take extra careful measures to be sure that post doesn’t get posted early skldfj

===

What is the plan for the main blog?

Every Friday, I will post either a fanfic chapter or a progress update. You can blacklist the tag “ridlife” if you do not want to see the progress updates on your dashboard. Fanfic updates will not have the “ridlife” tag, so you will not be blocking them.

During the rest of the week, I might post doodles, reblogs, or general comments. Basically... you’ll see the blog become active again. Feel free to send in Asks about my worldbuilding and thoughts on fanfic characters.

@fountainpenguin is my personal blog, so you will see non-fandom things on here sometimes

@riddledeep is my FOP-exclusive sideblog. It contains all my lore notes and goes into a ton of depth, more than my fanfics give in one breath

===

What does this mean for the Riddledeep sideblog?

I really want to go back and edit those character profiles that were posted early by mistake. The reason they were queued is because if I turned them into drafts, they would have been buried all the way at the beginning of my draft collection, and I have many, many drafts saved. There are no page numbers to navigate quickly through the draft collection, so I would have to click through each page one by one if I ever wanted to look at them. I hated doing this, which is why I kept my posts queued.

I was regularly updating the queue deadlines, trying to keep things in the order I wanted to post them in, but Tumblr made a change to the way drafts are dated and it kept throwing off my system. My inability to remember when my queued things would post combined with my busy schedule led to some profiles being posted early and incomplete. I want to fix these.

Over a year ago, my good friend Vulpix150 helped me finalize my designs for the Aos Sí and Daoine Sith. I’ve been sitting on that art in secret for a while, and at some point I plan to post it on the sideblog and talk more about that lore.

Updating fanfics is my higher priority (and it was the priority my followers voted for when I asked you to send votes to my Ask Box a while back). So, I will usually spend my free time working on fanfics unless I need a break from them and want to work on sideblog profiles instead. Thank you for your patience!

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TL;DR

I’m posting fanfics again soon. I’m going to take a more relaxed approach to posting them. I’m going to post more of what I want to post and what I feel motivated to post, not always a main ‘fic update. If I’m not “feeling it” when working on a draft, then I’ll set it aside for a while unless I know my followers and readers have high interest in the next chapter of that story. I always write for me first, but if I know there are other people who care a lot about a story, then of course I want to write it for you too!

I’m going to embrace my decade-long love for WordGirl and post more ‘fics and art or this fandom. I’ve always been a little shy about doing this, but I’m ready to make it an official fandom on my main blog (unless there are lots of requests for WordGirl things to be contained in their own sideblog). I will be posting the first chapter for a ‘fic called Factor It In very soon. Love my easily frustrated alien kiddos having a long day.

I am working on Creature-Crossing stuff too, and will be especially busy in November and December. Updates will be slow for a few months, but I hope to find my groove and a good pace soon.

Each Friday, I will post either a fanfic update or a mention of what I am working on. I will be checking in on Tumblr regularly. Feel free to talk! I much prefer you send messages to my Ask Box, not my private messenger, please <3

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Is there a specific story of mine you like and want more updates for?

Asks and reviews help me know which ‘fics people are enjoying. I plan to keep writing ‘fics no matter what, but I definitely give more time to the ‘fics that get more attention (and I have been spending so much time writing for Creature-Crossing because that’s where the attention was coming from)

It’s easy to stay motivated and get the next part of a story out soon if I know that people like it. It’s always harder if you feel like people are silently judging you and ignoring your posts. So, let me know what you’re interested in. And if you only leave Likes or Favorites instead of asks and reviews, that’s okay too! Thank you for interacting anyway and enjoying my work.

Thanks for reading!

[tellerford13]

MO ASTOR- CHAPTER 36

We don’t own the bikes, brothers, or any “related” Sons of Anarchy, trust us, if we did we wouldn’t have the time to write. No money is being made from our stories. So, please don’t sue. It’d be a fruitless endeavor indeed. That being said, Harley, Journee, and any other newbies are ours, and we don’t share. :Whispers in creepy voice: “My precious.” The universe This reality is a mix of cannon, and our own ideas. We strive to keep the boys cannon, but since we will be shifting around some of the events, that will reflect in our writing and their personalities as well. It’s our goal to provide you with quality fiction, and solid, fleshed out OFC. We appreciate constructive criticism and love LOVE reviews, they are a writers life blood and definitely help encourage us and inspire us.                                                       A/N: Oh My God We’re Back Again. It’s been a long time, but we never lost our love for Mo Astor. We’ve been plotting, and writing, and editing behind the scenes. We’re back to posting once a week. Thank you to all the readers who’ve left comments, favorited, and waited patiently. Grab a drink, sit back, and get ready to become lost in the world we’ve created.

                                         Mo Astor Chapter 36

Jax

It’s been a long time since it was just me and my baby sister. I’m looking forward to the one-on-one, though I’d never admit it out loud. She’s been my rock through some hard times.

I imagine she’d say the same for me. When life around you is constantly shifting, you look to each other to remain stable. That’s something most don’t understand.  That bond you have with someone who holds you down through all the bullshit is lifelong. It doesn’t break when you do jail time, have a difference of opinions, or get busy with life. So yeah, I guess civilians right, we ain’t like them.

“Morning,” I call as I walk into the house and disarm and reset the alarm.

“You’re making me regret giving you a key.” I follow her voice into the kitchen.  

“You love it when I visit,” I retort.

“Did you tell the incubator I’m coming with you?” She asks cutting straight to the point.

I snicker. “Believe it or not, she prefers you.”

Journee scowls.

“Proves how fucking stupid she is,” she mutters.

“Jesus, Baby J. hold a grudge much?”

“Pot meet kettle. Mr. Let’s measure our dicks with Kick.” She finishes rinsing off her dishes, and piles them into the dishwasher.

“That was setting boundaries.”

“Riiight. Whatever you need to help you sleep at night. At least I own my crazy ass tendencies.” She pouts.

“’Cause that’s better?” I lean against the counter beside her.

“Oh, yeah bro. Always best to know yourself.” She winks

“You’re full of shit.”

“Guess that’s why my eyes are brown, huh? Wait that can’t be true. Cause your eyes are sky blue, J.”

“You’re supposed to be coming along for moral support,” I reminder her wryly.

“I am.” She pats my cheek as we head out of her house towards my bike. “I’m breaking you down to build you up stronger.”

“That’s some fucked up Gemma logic.” I mutter.

“She did raise us to be like her.”

“You say that with a straight face and it becomes a scary story.” She laughs.

“I know.”

“Such a little shit.” I’m smiling as I say it. Like a true little sister, no one can get away with more bullshit than her, and she knows it. It reminds me of the year she and Tommy were as thick as thieves. He was a lot like her in many ways—more soft spoken and thoughtful. As an only kid she had a crazy patience for him, reading him books, and letting him trail along beside her.

Part of me wondered if they’d have ended up together if things were different and she’d be a Teller for another reason. Especially with how things ended up for me and Lee.

I push the thought out of my mind. What if’s did nothing but drive you crazy.

“So, what exactly did I agree to go to anyway?” she asks.

“Don’t you think you should’ve asked that beforehand?” I tease.

She shakes her head. “You know I’m your ride or die.”

“I do. Basic check-up, and then lunch. I get the feeling she’s got some new man.”

She whistles. “Damn that fast?”

“Hey. If it keeps her from dicking with me and Lee, and doesn’t affect my boy, let her be happy.”

“All kidding aside.” She shuts the door to the dishwasher and turns to me. “ I’m proud of you, big brother. You’ve come a long way.”

My neck grows hot. “We both know Lee had a lot to do with that.”

“Your, opening your eyes and seeing what was in front of you did that. You and Lee were always just a matter of when not if.” She starts the wash cycle.

“So sure.” I roll my eyes.

“I could see it. Over the years you got so close, but something always kept you from clicking.” “Deep down I knew in order to keep her I’d have to get my shit together, and I wasn’t ready to do that. So I stayed back ‘cause fucking things up between us wasn’t an option, you know?”

“Things came out the way they were meant to.”

“You really think that?” I glance into her soft brown eyes, and she gives me that Madonna smile that makes me feel like everything is going to be alright. I can always be real with my sister because I know she’s going to give me the truth. Wither I want it or not.

“I do.” She reaches over and places her hand on mine. “You both had some work to do before you could commit to forever.”

“You think I have it in me?  Forever and kids and all that?” I ask cautiously. So far, I’m screwing up the baby thing with my first born. It’s scary thinking of another person depending on me, let alone a child. It changes everything, and our life is unpredictable.

“You are your father’s son. Is there even a doubt?”

“Naw.” I lie, trying to fake it till I make it like I always do.

“Didn’t think so. You’re paying for lunch right? ‘Cause I’m starving.”

I laugh.

“You about to try to put a hurting on my wallet?” I hand her my spare helmet before climbing on my bike.

“Better than putting a hurting on your ex.” She says with a shrug, clipping the helmet on.

I chuckle, pulling my helmet on.

“You have a valid point. Damn you are our mothers’ child.”

She blows a raspberry, before mounting my bike.  Little sis knows since she’s doing me a favor, she has the upper hand—and she’s going to milk that shit for all it’s worth. It’s the Teller way.

~~~~~~~ I’m pleasantly surprised and slightly bewildered by the manicured lawn and uncluttered space by the garage. The large black garbage cans are lined up neatly by the curb on the street.

Pulling into the driveway, I remove my helmet and pause to take in the freakish cleanliness it’s lacked in prior visits.  This is above and beyond the duties we assigned the prospect keeping tabs on Wendy’s house.

“Well. This is different,” Journee whispers.

“Yeah.” I frown and turn to look over my shoulder.

“Maybe Ma sent over multiple prospects to tidy up.”

“Nu-uh.” Journee shakes her head.

“She said this was your mess to handle.” I purse my lips. “Which means it’s up to me to help you out with the pile of shit you’ve landed in.” Journee sighs.

“I feel the love.”

Journee shrugs. “I’m only speaking the truth big bro. You choose poorly for your first baby Mama. I told you how I felt about her long before you decided to give her your crow.”

I scowl. “No need to rub it in.”

“I’m just reminding you to listen to me. Sometimes I know things.” She flicks my ear and climbs off the back of my bike gracefully.

“Let’s get this torture session over, please.”

“You think it’s bad for you? I got eighteen years of this bare minimum.”

Storing our helmets in my saddlebags, I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, be my buffer.”

“I should let you go up in flames,” She mutters.

“That’s not sisterly,” I say with a grin.

“Jaxass.” She mutters.

We climb the steps, and the door swings open to reveal Wendy before we can even knock.  My jaw drops at her appearance. I glance over to find Journee equally shocked.

She looks like a fucking Stepford wife in a pale-yellow sundress complete with a flared skirt and heels. Last time she dressed like this a waffle iron came flying at my head.

“Jackson.  Cat got your tongue?” Wendy smirks.

Journee growls. “Aaaah, the little cocoa sidekick.”

“You know it only takes nine months to bake a baby, and you’ve got what...” Journee taps a finger against her cheek. “Less than three months left?”

“Nice to know you can count,” Wendy sneers.

  This is a new woman in front of me. I’m glad that she’s gotten the idea of us getting back together to be a family out of her head, but this one-eighty makes me uneasy.

I scan her body, and notice the thick strips of white medical tape over her entire right forearm.

They stand out against her nineteen-fifties get up.

“The fuck.” I grab her arm. “What are you hiding?”

“Your mark. Which meant nothing.” She spits, tugging her arm away.

“Let me see.”

“Fuck you, Jackson.”

Journee moves forward, blocking the doorframe with her body to keep me from dragging the smart-mouthed bitch out.

“I swear to God. If you’re using again.”  My breath quickens, and my visions tints red as rage builds up inside me like an inferno about to blaze out of control.

“You can take it off on your own. Or I can make you,” Journee says softly.

“One of these days, someone is going to put you in your fucking place. You don’t even belong here,” Wendy growls.

Journee climbs up another step, getting in her face.

“I know exactly who I am, where I belong, and where I’m wanted. You could never say the same, could you? Poor little lost girl, with loose legs begging to belong.”

Wendy blinks and turns away. Her hands tremble as she unwraps the tape and thrusts her arm toward me. “Look your fill. You dick.”

I peer down at the unmarred skin, and my knees nearly go weak with relief.  “It better stay this way.”

“I have someone to take care of me now, Jackson. I don’t need your bullshit concerns.”

“The minute you give birth to my baby you can do whatever the hell you want. Until that time, your business is mine.”

“It’s my baby too.” Her tone makes me stand up straight.

“What was that Wendy?” My voice drops an octave. “Is the junkie with no job trying to tell me she thinks she’s the better parent?”

“Inside.” Journee whispers.

Of course, We always have to keep up appearances here in town.” My mother’s voice plays in my head.

The fresh scent of cleanser and scented candles greets me. The house has never looked this good.

Who turned her into June Cleaver? I search the place for clues. The laundry basket resting on the couch has t-shirts that are far too big for Wendy, and the black boxers are a dead giveaway.

I don’t feel anything for her. I haven’t for far longer than I care to admit.  But I do worry about the company she’s keeping with my boy still in her belly.

He’s not a junkie. Shit’s too put together for that.

“Going somewhere?” Journee asks, nodding toward the kitchen.

I spot the half-packed boxes and bare spaces on the counter.

“I don’t want to stay in this house of lies.” Her dark eyes burn into mine.

“And where do you plan on going?” I ask. She looks away.

“Do you really want us to have to find you?” Journee asks.

Wendy crosses her arms under her breasts, pulling the material tight around her waist.I take in the bulge that’s grown over the past month.

“I’m just preparing.”

“You’re not supposed to be lifting heavy things right now.”

“I have help,” She snaps.

“You aren’t the only person who’d ever want me.” Her hands ball into fists. “If you can move on, so can I.”

“No one is saying you can’t, you crazy bitch. Calm the fuck down before you distress my godson. There’s no reason for everyone to get all worked up. We get it. Wendy bagged herself a new man. Good for you. We’re here to get our report on the baby, and we’ll be gone. The quicker you update us, the sooner we’ll be out of your hair.” Journee holds her hands out like she’s wrangling two high school kids about to fight.

Huffing, she stalks over to the large chair and sits down crossing her ankles, like some kind of proper lady. I’m in the fucking twilight zone. I lean forward with my arms on my knees, drinking up her reports. My boy is growing properly and healthy. It’s more than I could’ve hoped for, considering how fast and hardcore we were living when she got knocked up.

We were both empty shells looking to fill up spaces neither of us could ever fit into.

It’d been fun for a while, but it had never been built to last. She wasn’t even a consolation prize post-Tara tear down— Wendy was a pretty thing to warm my bed and play by the club rules without question. Now I’m paying for my poor choices.

“You satisfied?” Wendy asks. Journee looks at me, and I nod.

“For now.” Journee nods her head, and we both rise.

“Same time next month, Case.” Journee drawls. Such a little shit. Makes a brother proud.

She scowls as we leave.

“What. the fuck, Jax?” Journee whispers.

I shake my head. “Not sure, but if he keeps her shit together for the next 2 and half months, I don’t much care.”

~~~~~~

Sitting down at the table in Hannah’s, I wait for J to finish most of her meal before bringing up the main reason I wanted to go out to lunch after.

“All right Baby J, so…I gotta admit there's another reason I brought you along today.” I begin, wiping my hands off with my napkin. She rolls her eyes playfully at me. “Of course there is. So, which of my skill sets will you need for this favor? I've got a few spots saved in the woods for disposal and Hap gave me an amazing cleaner kit for my birthday.” She says with an excited grin and a bloodlust in her eyes. She is so her father’s daughter. I can't help but chuckle, shaking my head in Disbelief.  By looking at her you'd never guess what she was capable of.  But with her dad the Sergeant at Arms of Grim Bastards, and her mentor Happy Lowman…there’s a side to her that I never want to get on the bad side of. “Well I do need your skills, just not those ones.” I say, taking a sip of my water. She raises a curious eyebrow at me before smirking.

“Sorry bro, my other skills are only allowed to be enjoyed by my husband and my wifey. As kinky as my old man is, I don't think we're ready to swing just yet.”

She teases with a wink and I damn near spit my sip out. “Jesus J, not that either! Shit little sister, I’ve only just begun playing in Lee's pussy myself. No other dick is going to be poking around in her till it’s been claimed to completion.” Her eyebrows shoot up.“Already planning on making her your second baby mama?” "Second and final. But not just yet. I just got her to say I love you to me. If I plant the seed too soon, I'm worried she'd rip out the roots.”

She rolls her eyes. “Naw Bro, Lee'd never terminate.”

“Oh I know, I wasn't talking about the baby. I was more concerned with her going Loreena Bobbitt on me.”  I say honestly, shifting in my seat at the imaginary pain. She bursts out laughing, nodding her head in agreement. “Yea, that uh, that might be more likely.” She says between adorable little snorts.

I nod my head in agreement. “Exactly and seeing is how I ain't planning on changing my singing voice anytime soon, I'm real careful how I'm navigating this one.” Feels like the story of my life right now. It’s been a unique experience having the girl be hesitant with me.With Tara and Wendy, we went full steam ahead, and the crows afterwards all but jumped on my dick the minute I looked at them.

Lee is different. And being with her like this has shown me just how special she is.

She’s worth the time and the energy to make this work for both of us.

J offers me a soft, approving smile. “That's good to hear.” I nod. It’s a relief knowing how much baby sister supports us. None of this would’ve happened without her, and I know she’s got my back to help me navigate these new relationship waters. “Besides she's got that IED thing in her arm.” I add.

She bursts out laughing again and this time I'm a little confused.

“It's an IUD dumbass. Lee doesn't have a fucking bomb implanted in her arm.” She teases and I can't help but chuckle.

There's a joy in her eyes I haven't seen since before the whole Kyle debacle. I'm not the least bit surprised her old man helped put it there. I've known about his crush on her for years, but I knew better than to say shit. I figure if Chibs was taking his time there had to be a reason. Brother was one of the most strategic mother fuckers I knew. I was fifteen when he patched in, and after losing my old man, I saw him like the big brother I never had. There was no one I listened to and trusted more than Filip Telford.

I loved Ope and, there would always be a lifelong bond between us, but when he met Donna, we both felt something sever between us. He became a family man almost overnight, and I wasn’t done sewing my wild oats. Plus, the way the whole thing went down with him hurting J, it never sat right with me. Those two had been headed in a direction that would’ve been something real special. But then Mary got involved, dragged him away and he came back with Donna.

I can still feel my anger at the look of heartbreak he’d put on Journee’s face.

He’s been out a few months now and I rarely see him. The separation has been painful, but he’s trying to go the way of the straight and narrow for his family. Donna’s laid out the rules damn clearly. If he gets into trouble again, she’s out. Should’ve had brown babies Ope. This was the real danger of marrying and procreating with a Civi. They never fully understood our world, and few respected the price that sometimes must be paid to be apart of it. I don’t resent Ope for finding love, but I do resent his love for taking him away from his family.

“All right, Well then I'm lost Jay boy. If it ain’t cleaning and it ain’t playtime…what could you need from me?” She asks, taking a sip from her drink. My stomach flutters excitedly. I reach into the pocket of my cut. Producing the crinkled, early stages of a sketch I’ve been working on, I slide it over to her.

“Need the artiste in you little sister.” She glances at me and then opens the paper. My excitement turns to nerves as I watch her eyes studying the picture presented to her. "What am I looking at here J?" She asks and I scowl slightly. "I mean I know I'm not a great artist like you, but you can tell it's a crow.”

She chuckles. “I mean I know that, but I’m wondering why I'm looking at crow?”

"Right so, I need your help J. I want to design a new crow for Lee. After the shit with Kick, I need her inked. I want everyone to know she's claimed.” Her eyebrows shoot up again. “Wait what? A new crow, but your dad designed the first one. Why do you want to do new?” “I know dad designed the first one, but he designed it for my mom. And then ya know other old ladies got it and it just sort of became trademark.” I pause. “But there's nothing trademark about my old lady. I want her to have one just for her, cause she's damn special to me and she deserves something that represents not just me but us. Like you and Chibs did. Seeing the crow designed specifically for the two of you made me realize, I don't want her wearing the same generic shit that both Tara and Wendy got. Lee is never gonna be an ex, I know she's my forever and I want this crow to be more than just the generic SAMCRO trademark.”

I explain my thought process to her watching the smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

“So, that's what I need your help with. No one loves Lee as much as me and no one knows her better. I've got an idea and I can explain what I want, but I need your help executing my vision and making it something that represents us both and that she'd be proud to wear.”

I wait for her reaction. She studies the sketch and runs her fingers over the lines. “Where are you thinking she wears her brand?” I can’t help but remember before we were together, standing in my dorm room at Journee's engagement party.  Journee running her slender fingers over Lee's chest saying how sexy a chest piece would look. I lick my lips and shift in my seat before clearing my throat. “Depends what we come up with. I know I’m definitely going to want her to get a chest piece so anyone who looks knows exactly who she belongs to, but I also know she's gotta be careful with size given her business dealings in the upper crust. So maybe just property off Jax across her chest so she can cover it up if need be. But this crow, HER crow...I don't want to worry about size. Maybe her shoulder or tricep for when she's in tank tops. After we design it and I give it to her, I'll let her decide where.”

Journee nods thoughtfully. “All right so explain to me what you're thinking.” She reaches into her oversized satchel she almost always has with her, and pulls out a small sketch book and pencil. I chuckle at her. She shrugs sheepishly. “Hey I'm an artist, never know when inspiration might strike.” She says flipping the book open to an empty page. “So I like what you have going here with the crow but what if you go with a two headed crow. Sort of like you and her becoming one.”  She explains, masterfully sketching out what I'd already drawn and adding on to it. “Now, tell me what else you're thinking.”

By the time we’re finished, the idea is a fully formed tattoo. The two crows each have a wing.

A bleeding heart in the middle of the crows speaks to our passion and dedication for each other. One crow clutches an A.K. 47 for the club, and the other crow clutches an olive branch to represent the peace she brings me.  With her, I’m completely balanced. Journee’s thrown in a few other hidden easter eggs to symbolize Lee.  My name sits above the entire thing to let everyone know who my old lady belongs to. I love that in a way Journee is woven in there. There would be no me and Lee without her wonderfully “subtle” match making ways. We stand to leave, and I toss 20 extra bucks down on a 24-dollar bill. SamCro always makes sure to tip extra well in town. Keeps our business running and our business owners happy to have us. As we're walking out my phone rings and I can't help but grin when I see Lee's name on the caller ID.

“Hey beautiful, I was just thinking about you.” I say answering the phone. “How'd your meeting go?” I ask as we walk towards my bike. "Hey baby, went good. I think your mom and I were able to nail down the last of the details for the taste of Charming festival coming up.” I can hear the relief in her tone.

“Glad to hear it Darlin. J and I just finished up lunch. Headed back now.” I pause.“I mean, headed home.” I correct, winking at the smirk J gives me. “Glad to hear it darlin.” She mocks on the other end. J and I get to the bike and she grabs her helmet. “How’d your meeting go with Wendy?”

“Went good. I’ll tell you more about when I get there.”

“Okay baby.” I can hear her hesitation for a moment.

“Something wrong?”

“No, not at all. But umm Sack came by this morning with a few boxes of your stuff. And I hope you don't mind that I started unpacking some things. You know I hate boxes.” My heart damn near soars at her words. “Of course I don't mind Lee. You know how I hate unpacking, so unpack away. I can't wait to see it. My shit mixed in with yours. Bet it's gonna look amazing.” I say honestly. After our bathtub wall breaking session we both wanted as much of my stuff into her house as soon as possible.

Mostly cause I didn't want her changing her mind on me. “I think you'll like it. I’m headed back to the house now. You done for the day or you got Club stuff you gotta do?”

“I got some free time babe. I'll head over after I drop J off.”

I mount my bike so J can get on while I finish up my phone call. “Okay sounds good Jax.” She grows quiet for a second before a sweet "I love you Jackson," comes through the earpiece. I can't help the smile hearing her initiate the L word that been circling my head for months.

“I love you too Harley.” I say sincerely, picturing her bashful, smile on the other end.

“I'll see you soon babe.”

“Okay, bye baby.” She says before disconnecting the call. Journee is settled in her seat behind me and I can practically feel her smile. “How'd that feel?” She asks learning forward to wrap her arms around my waist. “Pretty Amazing, I’ll never get tired of hearing that from her.” I answer honestly, pulling my helmet on.  I can always be honest and real around J. “I know the feeling.” She says giving me a squeeze. She leans forward to place an affectionate kiss on my check.“I'm so happy for you Jackson. For both of you.” She says.

I thread my fingers in her course curls and cup the back of her head. After Pressing a firm kiss to her cheek, I rest my head on top of hers for a moment. “Thank you, Journee. For everything.” I sincerely say.

There is no doubt in my mind if it hadn’t been for my baby sister I wouldn’t be in this amazing stage with Lee.

Knowing me I would’ve fucked us up by now. She gives me a squeeze before situating in her seat. “All right, enough with the chick flick moment. Take me home chauffer, time for me to go see my old man.” She says like a little kid getting ready to open presents as soon as she gets home. “Yes ma'am.” I tease starting my bike and heading out. ~~~~~ A/N: In case ya’ll were wondering this was what Tellerford was thinking Lee’s Crow Looks like. It’s based off a Design the show produced and was tweaked to fit our image lol. So we thought you might like a little glimpse into what’s in our head. 

[daikon1]

2020 Fanfic Year in Review!

@floraone and @nari20 encouraged me to participate in the Year-In-Review so okay, here we go!!

1. List of fics completed this year:

Completed (as in marked-as-completed) is only two!

Advice From Her Fairy Prince (which I actually wrote in 2019!) and

Swipe Right - A Tinder Tale

I also have two ongoing short story collections that I started this year and then two multichapters that will be carried into the new year, though Teammates Don’t Kiss is fully written and R is for Reverse is more than three quarters done.

2. Number of words written:

86,680!

Not bad considering I only started in August! (Do note that I’m only counting words that got posted, so since I work with buffer chapters this is a little less than what I’ve technically written!!)

3. Your most popular fic this year:

R is for Reverse, for sure! I’m so thrilled that the thing I’m most excited about also seems to be resonating with people.

4. Your personal favourite this year:

Definitely R! It’s such a delight to work on. There’s a reasonable chance I’ll be a bit lost when I finish it.

5. Your favourite scene:

Oh god... the more I think about this the harder it gets to pick just one!! There were so many scenes that I feel like came out really, really well.

I love pretty much every single moment of chapter 6 of R (so much UsaMamo!) but honestly I think the bit where Minako and Ami show up at Mamoru’s apartment might be my favorite? I ADORE writing Minako, she’s such a trip and honestly writes herself most of the time, and the way she and Mamoru play off of each other gives me a lot of really fun completely non-sexual tension. Plus, she’s the WORLD’S BIGGEST UsaMamo shipper and I love that.

Second favorite...I think the bit at the end of Chapter 4 of R, where Usagi and Tuxedo Mask talk after he defeats Leshy. That was totally unplanned - per my outline, Usagi was supposed to leave the tree and be gone when the battle was over - but thankfully she refused, and instead we got some really sweet bonding moments with the two of them. AND THEN HE GETS THE NERVE TO GIVE HER THE DANGOS and you can’t tell me that isn’t hella sweet.

OH and the bit in Chapter 7 of R where Mamoru totally panics over wanting to hold Usagi’s hand. I ADORE that and was so so happy with it.

6. A fic or scene that challenged you:

Pretty much ALL of the sexting scene in Tinder was HARD to write. It’s very personal to write someone masturbating, it turns out, and this was also my first major work of smut. SO there was a lot of alcohol consumed and hand-holding needed from my beta as I made my way through it.

7. A line of writing you’re proud of:

So the bit I’m currently most proud of hasn’t been posted yet (it’s from a later chapter of TDK!), so I’m gonna pick another one!

I skimmed several chapters and found quite a few bits that I’m pleased with. The bit in Chapter 7 of R where he tries to get up the nerve to hold Usagi’s hand comes to mind, but it’s pretty text-heavy so instead I’m going to specifically highlight the bit at the end of Chapter 6 of R:

The smell of her hair lingered in the hallway, her pink slippers lined up next to his black ones, and the dishes from her breakfast still sat, unwashed, on his coffee table. Hints of her presence were everywhere, and yet all he wanted, even moments after she'd left, was to see her again. The kaleidoscope inside him was back, but rather than fragmenting his emotions, this time it zeroed in on only one with crystal clarity.

Even if that rational part of him knew that this wasn't what he was supposed to do, he wasn't strong enough to fight it anymore. For the first time, he allowed himself to consciously think his dearest wish:

Maybe he could get her to fall in love with him.

Also, this one is from Advice From Her Fairy Prince, which is a Skip Beat! fanfic, but I CRACK THE HELL UP every time I reread it:

"Morizumi-san tried to throw you off a building?"

Yeah, I dunno. It’s a gloriously delayed reaction in context and I find it wonderfully absurd, so I wanted to shout that one out, too.

8.  A comment that touched you:

Oh my god, I’ve received so many nice comments this year??? I go back and reread them when I’m having a tough day and just glow. I’ve had a few people tell me things like something I wrote is one of their all-time favorites or that my writing style reminds them of another author I admire and I’m basically ready to crawl under my bed like “Who, me??” I also LIVE FOR the long, detailed comments in which people react to specifics from the story (I have several readers who do this for me and it makes me giddy every time).

One comment in particular does stick out as being far, far too kind and praised me in ways that made me feel insanely flattered and gave me a huge bout of imposter syndrome simultaneously, where they basically performed literary criticism* on one of my chapters and found all this meaning and value in my work that honestly left me a bit embarrassed in a good way. 

*Note: While I personally found this extremely flattering, I wouldn’t necessarily recommend trying this at home if you haven’t received a positive response to it before, because fic is meant to be fun, and unprompted literary critique (especially unsolicited ConCrit) can make some authors feel very hurt or defensive. YMMV of course!!

9. Something that inspired your writing this year:

So @floraone ‘adopted’ me into the fandom early this year, and spending so much time with a bunch of wonderful, creative, like-minded people not only saved my mental health in this shitstorm of a year, you all also inspired me to start writing fic again, including in several genres and events I might otherwise have shyed away from. So, I mean, that! You all! I’m so thrilled to be here and so wonderfully delighted to have found this amazing and supportive little fandom corner to play in. Thank you for inspiring me and welcoming me <3

10. Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc)

I’d say a toss-up between Tinder (writing a whole smutpiece where they are never physically in the same room together is an accomplishment, I’m just saying) and chapter 4 of R. Chapter 4 just came out so friggin’ well, and on the occasions I’ve gone back to reread it I feel very proud of it (whereas Tinder I’m more inclined to nitpick at upon reread). So, one of those!

11. Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

Oh man. I would love to finish R before my birthday (it’s in February so eh, we’ll see). And I’d love to like, not totally lose momentum and fall out of the fandom once I finish R! I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever feel quite this inspired again, so maybe finding something else that makes me want to write like this is a good goal for the year LOL. I’d also love to see if I can top my proudest bit of writing from TDK, and I think that’s a good thing to aspire to - but if I can’t, I get to put it in my wrap-up next year! Okay! So that’s my year in review, but I would love to see some other people do these! I’m not going to tag anyone because most of the people I would tag already have been, but if you see this and want to participate, consider yourself tapped in.

Here’s to the end of 2020, and fingers crossed that the next year runs more smoothly!!

[fairytail-incorrectquotes]

Hi ess! I hope you're having a good day/night! So, what do you think the strauss siblings are doing while in lockdown?

hiii anon!! it's currently 1:24am, so night I suppose!! and I'm really not, but a little message like yours just made my day much better 💕💕💕

strauss siblings in lockdown, eh?

well, elfman has decided he's gonna get buffer and be even more of a man! he's been working out near constantly. they had to order 600kg weights for him - he does 100 situps and 500 pushups with them on his back every morning before breakfast. he's decided he'll leave lockdown strong enough to crush a hippo's head between his thighs, and he seems to be pretty close to that goal! he's also taken up baking cookies for his sisters. he brings them to the girls in the morning. he's not much of a baker, and his recipe is definitely a work in progress, but he's getting better! the last batch weren't even thst burnt, and you could barely taste the salt! he spends most of the time trying to lift his bed using only his lower jaw. he seems to coping okay - he's the one who does all the shopping, and he's not even shaved his hair off or made a raincoat for a liquor bottle yet!!

mira is struggling. she can hardly get out of bed in the mornings, and she stares aimlessly at the cieling for hours every morning. her skin isn't clear anymore and her hair is getting greasier, but she can't find the motivation to bother with either. she's been browsing the Internet and has pretty much done everything that can be done in acnh. her coping mechanisms are really just memes and vine compilations from 2015 that she's seen 450 times each. she's not designed to stay inside, away from others. it's messing with her, she can't function without routine

lisanna has taught squirrels how to perform her restaging of cats and has even knitted little mungojerrie a costume. it's cute. she has no idea there's a pandemic, that's just liss

[clevercatchphrase]

2020 Year Review~

2020. Pretty unique year, don’t you think? It’s the first year since 2002 to have only two different digits in it. After 2022, this won’t happen again until 2111. Yep. Absolutely nothing more interesting than that.

Anyway! It’s time I reflect on my 2020, look back on my yearly goals and rant about things that happened to me this year. I made a post like this last year, where I went over my 2019 goals and talked about what I accomplished and what I didn’t, and it’s only fitting I do the same again this year. Read more under the cut for a random stream of consciousness ramble!

So, first things first, let’s look at my 2019 goals;

Finish paying off that last student loan

Put more stuff on my redbubble

Illustrate my own fan fics

Sew at least one stuffed animal

Make an enamel pin

Read one new book a month

Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic

Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make

Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch

Boost my patreon

 Paying Off My Last Student Loan: Going down the list, I am proud to say that I FINALLY paid off all my student loans! (and not a moment too soon. The last payment I made was literally days before the first quarantine rolled out). It took me roughly 4 years on my part-time paycheck to pay off all my loans, and once I finished, I had no money to my name (literally; I had less than 1k as emergency money in case of car troubles or health issues). Heck, I’m STILL living at home as a save up for a place of my own. Finally paying off all my student loans DID activate my secret 2020 new year’s resolution, which was to adopt a cat! I did this too, literally a week later! She is the best thing that’s happened to me this entire year and I love her so much and she is the snuggliest cuddle bug I’ve ever met. I’m so happy she’s in my life now~

Put More Stuff On My Redbubble: ah ha ha ha… I thought I did this, but then I went and checked, and it turns out-! I did not. I made art I intended to go on my redbubble, but haven’t put there yet. They are all drawings of some OCs from a game I want to make, but because I haven’t progressed on making the game this year, I never got around to putting more stuff related to it on my redbubble. At the time of writing, there are 7 days left in December, so I guess I could go and put it up on my redbubble right now, but without context on where the characters are from, there wouldn’t be much point, now would there?

 Illustrate My Own Fan Fics: Another goal that I was so stoked to actually do… and then just didn’t. Gee, I wonder why I couldn’t find the energy or motivation to do it this year? Truly a conundrum. (Hey, you know what? If Ghost Switch counts as a fan fiction in a visual form, then I am doing GREAT on this goal. 2.5 years in, 1 of ~4 arcs done, and still going steady~)

 Sew At Least One Stuffed Animal: Okay, I have a valid excuse for not doing this one. I even knew which stuffed animal I wanted to make, and had the pattern drawn out and everything, but I had no money for materials because I had just paid off my student loans. And then, by the time I did have enough money again, quarantine was in full effect and I couldn’t go out to the fabric store. I’m still trying my best to stay out of public places even if the rules are laxer now, because I don’t want to catch the plague even if everyone in my goddamn city thinks and acts like the problem is over already. Even if they’re all wearing masks, even if they’re staying 6 feet apart, I still don’t want to risk it. I will stay inside until health experts give the all clear, and when that day comes, then I will buy some fleece and make a plush.

 Make An Enamel Pin: I ACTUALLY DID THIS ONE. TWICE! Halfway through quarantine, I was feeling anxious and depressed about my job and how they were planning to have me work with the public despite climbing infection rates and positive covid cases. I didn’t quit then, but in a desperate move to try and become self-sufficient, I went to madebycooper and made two enamel pins based on some butterfly dragons I drew last year. They’re on my etsy store now! I even went out of my way to open a P.O. box just to start a small business! I haven’t sold a single pin yet, and I’m actually really nervous to sell my first because I don’t trust the efficiency of the postal system thanks to the actions of the GOP that really screwed them over this year! (If you would like to see my enamel pins, click here!)

 Read One Book A Month: I did this! With dragon books I bought a couple years back! In fact, I read FOURTEEN dragon books, and still have more books for next year to read! The 14 books I read this year were:

 The Hive Queen

The Poison Jungle

Wings Of Fire Legends: Dragonslayer

Dealing With Dragons

Searching For Dragons

Calling on Dragons

Talking to Dragons

The Bronze Dragon Codex

The Brass Dragon Codex

The Black Dragon Codex

The Red Dragon Codex

The Silver Dragon Codex

Dragon Strike, and

Hatching Magic

 To be honest, I had read The Red Dragon Codex years ago when it first came out, but completely forgotten what it was about. I remembered liking it, and I knew the reading level was on the lower side, but the whole dragon codex series was pretty good! So far, the Silver dragon codex was my favorite, and black dragon codex was probably the worst! Hatching Magic was also really slow and bad and had plot points that went nowhere, but the book was written in the 80s, so I don’t know what I expected. The Dealing with Dragons series was very charming and great for the most part, save for one line in the last book that really rubbed me the wrong way, and all the Wings of Fire Books go above and beyond in this third arc. The second legends book could be a little tighter, though (sky and wren are the best duo and I want a book solely about them, but I honest to god do not care about leaf and ivy’s stories.)

 Write one Page of any story every day/ complete at least one fic: I… did this? Okay, I kinda cheated near the end of the year. I was keeping up the one page a day thing for the first four months, but then the world went to shit and my schedule and habits got disrupted and I fell off my good track record. I completed 7 out of roughly 12 one-shots I had planned for this year (my goal WAS supposed to be one short a month, but… you know how it happens) I kept trying to catch up on this goal all year, but the days kept piling up…. Until November hit. I managed to write over 250 pages for Nanowrimo, and I consider this goal a win. 365 pages of fiction in total, which averages out to about one a day~. SHUT UP IT COUNTS.

 Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make: Another goal I didn’t have the mental energy to commit to this year. Truly a mystery to where all our willpower went in 2020.

 Fully Finish Scripting Ghost Switch: still haven’t done this one yet! The Snowdin arc is completely planned, but I just haven’t gotten around to getting the other areas. I’m not worried, though. I know all the major plot points I gotta hit, it’s just weaving them together in a way that flows nice is the final task. I’m not too worried though. I don’t expect to finish the Snowdin arc for another year and a half, at the bare minimum.

 And my last goal of 2020, Boost My Patreon. I did this at the beginning of the year, but then very intentionally stopped about a third of the way through. It didn’t sit right with me to tell you guys to donate to me when suddenly EVERYONE was financially strained from layoffs or being furloughed. I told my patrons the same, and if you ever need to stop donating to me to take care of yourself first, then by all means, please do. I would feel much better knowing you’re using your money to see yourself fed and housed instead of given to me (where it is pretty much only used to buy gas for my car, honestly)

 Welp! That was all my goals for 2020! I achieved 4 out of 10 goals plus 1 secret goal! Pretty much the same ratio as last year, but now this time I can blame all my failures on the pandemic! I don’t feel so bad about myself anymore~

 ON TO 2021!

 I have 11 goals for the new year, again some rolled over from this list, and some from even older years. They are, in no particular order;

 Read 12 new books (roughly 1 book a month)

Finish the first draft of 2019’s Nanowrimo project and rewrite it

Script TDV

Finish Scripting Ghost Switch

Build A Comic Buffer

Sew 1 Stuffed Animal

Finish 1 Song Comic

Make another Enamel Pin

Finish 2 short original comics (this one counts as 2 goals)

Finish the 5 remaining one-shot fics

 Now to go into depth on each one, more for my own sake, really. I want to know exactly what I have planned for each goal this year, and sometimes just looking at a short list doesn’t capture all the smaller details.

 1)Read 12 new books. Same as last year! I The only difference is I might not be able to make it all dragon-related books. (I try my hardest not to buy from amazon anymore, but half-price-books doesn’t always have the obscure stuff I’m looking for)

 2)Finish 2019’s nanowrimo project. If you read my 2019 year reflection, you’ll notice I said I wanted to do some original writing. And I did! The story I wrote for nanowrimo back then was a story I’ve been toying with since 2017, but it was only last year I finally got pen to paper. Now, you may find it odd that the keyword says “finish”. You may think, “but isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for nanowrimo?” and to that I say, WRONG! I wrote 50k words for nanowrimo, but the draft was only about halfway complete. I was kinda discouraged about what I had written last year, because I didn’t like how it was coming out, but I did manage to get it half done. Now it’s time for me to bite the bullet and just finish the thing so I can finally revise it and make it into something I DO like. (It’s still gonna be hella long, tho. That’s what I get for trying to write an epic fantasy, I guess.)

 3)Script TDV. TDV is the abbreviation of the game I want to make. I… still need to do so much for this project OTL… In addition to getting the story solidified, I still need to draw art and game assets, and learn how to code for it, both of which are no small task. I keep having some sort of new year’s goal related to this on my list, and every year I just don’t hit this one. Will 2021 be different?

 4)Finish Scripting Ghost Switch. (Or at the very least, get the waterfall arc completely written out). I have a plan to break this down into simpler steps, by focusing on just one arc for a month or two. Every major arc has 2 to 3 parts, broken up by flashbacks, and if I can just finish one section a month, then I should have the entire thing scripted by the end of the year. It’s not a difficult pace, but seeing if I stick with it will be the real challenge, as it is will all my goals it seems.

 5)Build a Comic Buffer: I’m actually working on this one right now! Since I paid off my last loan and got a new job this year, my current Patreon goals are kind of out of date. They had all been centered around me paying off that last loan, and working towards full-time employment, but those are both completed now! So instead, I would love to get to a place where my patrons could read pages at least a week ahead, and to do that, I need to build a buffer. And since I’m working 5 full days a week now, I can’t afford to fall behind. But you can’t fall behind if you constantly stay ahead! I would like to have… a 10 to 12 page buffer. That’s roughly 3 months’ worth of pages to always have on hand in case I get swamped with work, or something. Right now I currently have a buffer of 3, which will cover me for half a January, which is better than not having anything at all, but still not the best. (ultimately, I would love to have a buffer so big, I could queue them up for the whole year. Wouldn’t that be something?)

 6) Sew one stuffed animal: same as last year. ASSUMING the plague gets under control in 2021, I don’t expect to get to this goal until the summer at the earliest.

 7)Finish 1 song comic: I have 7 song comics planned. One is a gift, one possibly for wandersong, one is a collab that’s currently in the works, but I’m waiting on a friend to do their part before I can continue mine, 2 are UT related, and 2 (well, technically 3, but one is the collab) are KH related. It’s one of the UT ones that will probably get finished, if I’m being honest. It’s completely story boarded, and now I just need to ink and color it. I would like to get it done for UT’s 6th birthday, since I made a song comic on the fly for the anniversary this year, and it was fun, and I’d like to do it again! So, look forward to that next september~

 8) Make another enamel pin: I have a dolphin design I’d like to make because dolphins are cute, if not little murder machines. (need to save up some expendable income first, tho. THESE THINGS AIN’T CHEAP TO MAKE.)

 9 and 10) start and finish 2 original short comics: I’ve got some comic ideas I want to do, but I need to get them written out first. I don’t think either would be too long. Each maybe a couple “episode’s” length, if envisioned on a website like webtoons or tapas. They’d both be heavy in allegory, but not overly drawn out (hopefully)

 11)And lastly, Finish the 5 remaining one-shots I had planned for this year but never got around to. I’m going to try to write one every other month. Pure self-indulgent shipping fluff. If I finish these 5, then maybe I’ll ask other people for more prompts and ideas, which I’ve never done before. We’ll see how it goes~

 Also, Like last year, I’d like to look at everything that’s happened to me this year, though to be honest, I’m not sure how much I remember/how accurate it’ll be. God, I don’t even remember what January was like. Who was I back then? Who were we all back then? I guess I’ll start my yearly retrospective in march because, heh, god we ALL know what started happening in march.

 Firstly, I paid off my last student loan! Then a week later on March 18th, I drove half an hour out of my city to adopt a cat and I love her and it was the best day of this year for me. Spring break is just beginning this weekend, but the attendance at the zoo is shockingly low this year. Apparently, a lot of people watch the news, and they’re all taking precautions about social distancing. I wasn’t too disappointed. Fewer people at the zoo, the easier my job is for me. I was looking forward to getting some free overtime on spring break, since I’m broke after paying off that loan, and I’m a cat parent now and have a furry child to feed. Monday rolls around. My manager calls me and tells me that the zoo is going into lockdown until further notice. I worry for the birds I take care of, but understand it’s for everyone’s safety.

 For two months I sleep in and watch way too much YouTube. I join a couple writing discords. I have nightmares about my birds escaping their enclosure and I dreamed one of the security guards I really like at the zoo gets covid and has to go to the ER. I woke up really upset.

 I started and finished BBS for the first time. I also replayed and finished KH2 final mix for the first time. It had been about 5 years since I last played KH2 before my PS2 died, and it was like coming home~ I also finished tearaway, and played and beat Ryme for a second time (which I can’t remember if I did that last year, but it was a fun experience regardless)

 Mid-June, and I’m allowed to start going back to work, be it on reduced hours. The zoo is still closed to the public, but I’m loving it! I get to work with full-time keepers and do full-time keeper things. It’s so much fun not having to deal with the public. August starts to creep up and there’s a rumor that the zoo will be opening to the public again, which I’m not stoked about. I don’t want to go back to standing in one exhibit all day, talking to guests who don’t listen to the rules or to me. 2 of my younger coworkers (who had both only been there a couple of months) get chosen for full-time positions, while I get passed up which really pisses me off. My other 2 coworkers quit when they think we might be reopening because they cannot risk catching the virus due to at-risk family. I am now the last keeper in the interactive bird exhibit.

 I keep working, the zoo slowly opens, but with me as the only interpreter in our interactive bird exhibit, we can’t open because I can’t run the entire exhibit by myself. So my exhibit stays closed. September comes and goes, and then October starts. Now there is more serious talk of opening my exhibit before the end of the year because the zoo expects to bring in larger crowds for the Christmas lights event in November/December. I ask if I get hazard pay or health insurance since I’m doing full-time hours until they hire more staff. They say no.

 I immediately start searching for a new job feeling incredibly indignant/hurt/slighted/insulted/used/abused/ALL the negative feelings at my job. I had been there for 4 years, but never got a chance to work full time, while the two newest hires who had only been there 2 months both got moved up. I can’t help but feel they were holding one mistake I made two years ago against me and never wanted to give me a chance. (that, or they knew I was reliable when it came to showing up for work in such a volatile position that sees a lot of new faces, and they didn’t want to bother going through the process of hiring someone new) I don’t want to risk my life working around guests who don’t wash their hands and don’t properly distance. I don’t want to gamble with my health when they won’t offer me health insurance because I’m part time.

 Mid October, I get an interview for a full time job and get hired on the spot. I peace out at the zoo 2 weeks later, literally 3 days before they planned to open my exhibit to the public. It was a close call for me to escape before they opened to the public (and pettiness was only partially the reason I dipped out so close to opening). Sorry new hires who are now in charge of the bird feeding exhibit. I taught you the best I could in the short time I had. If the managers are struggling with what to do with one less person, I can’t say I feel bad. I can only hope they delayed opening/closed you down again for your own safety. You are not lightbulbs. I really hope the higher ups stop considering you as replaceable as one. Will I go back to the zoo to visit? Probably. But not for a year at least.

 I started my new job the very next day after I quit the zoo, and have been there ever since, (which isn’t that long yet, tbh. Christmas day was my 2 month anniversary). It’s full time, but it’s also a small business, and everyone’s hours this year have been on the short side due to the plague. I understand, though. They don’t want us to work if they can’t afford to pay us. Everyone is nice enough, though some people smoke and it’s hard to avoid them with how frequently we have to go in and out, and I really don’t want to get lung cancer, sorry not sorry, please and thank you. Also, with such a small team, gossip is certainly harder to go undetected, so it’s a relief knowing people don’t talk behind one another’s backs.

 I participated and beat my 4th nanowrimo in a row, I made TWO apple crisps on thanksgiving, and made baklava on Christmas and both of these recipes were my first time making them, and they both came out adequately! I voted the first day of early voting, and I did an art trade/collab with two of my friends for my birthday! (normally we would have done monthly “art days” where we get together and do art projects for fun because we’re adults and we can spend our time together however we want, but the plague said otherwise this year) We drew pokemon and it was fun! (hopefully I can show you all the results soon. At the time of writing, I’m still waiting for the last two colored parts to get back to me)

 I reached 100 pages on my undertale comic, and finish the first arc out of…! (im not sure. It’s either going to be 4 or 5, I haven’t decided yet)

 Over all, I managed to stay healthy as far as I know. I wasn’t as productive as I wanted to be this year, but then again, who was? (don’t answer that. I don’t need that kind of comparison in my life right now)

 Will 2021be any better? Honestly? I don’t think so. Not right away, at least. Just because a new year is about to start does not mean the slate is completely wiped clean. The change of the calendar year doesn’t magically make all our current problems disappear. Covid will still be here and cases will still climb when January starts. Small business will still be strained when the month rolls over, police will still go on murdering innocent civilians and getting away scot free, amazon and disney will still be monopolizing all consumer goods and media, and I can’t help but feel like there’s an impending shit show about to go down on inauguration day. I do hope things will get better, though. It’ll be arduous and unpleasant, but I do hope things will improve, because sometimes hoping is all you can do.

 Good night.

[lonestarbabe]

Mom’s In Town

T.K. struggles when his mom comes into town. The 126 and Carlos help him through, and prod him to make amends with his mother. (AO3)

---

“You didn’t tell me that your mom was in town,” Owen says. His tone is casual, but T.K. can feel the tension radiating from his father. The team stiffens, and they try to mind their own business, but T.K. doesn’t doubt they’ll hang onto every word, so he’s got to be careful with what he says. Just like he always was just before the divorce, during it, and then after. He’d always been sure to say the right the things to the right parent. He excels at splitting himself into different people based on what the situation requires.

His mom has been in town for just a few hours, and T.K. feels like a little kid again, standing between his parents’ fighting, feeling completely unheard. Gwyneth and Owen have learned how to play nice for his sake, but the old feelings always return in specks, built up and matted together like lint from the dryer. His parents are scarily cordial around T.K., but he knows that they talk shit about each other when he isn’t around. They had too many unresolved issues in their marriage to have zero unresolved issues during their divorce. The worst part is that T.K. knows that his parents still have gushy, fond centers for each other. They don’t hate each other. They just act like they hate each other because it is easier to be hateful than to acknowledge that they’d always love each other, even if tragedy made it impossible for them to ever be together again.

Owen was the one to mess everything up, but he’s a hero, and there’s not much T.K.’s ever been able to criticize Owen on that doesn’t somehow end up being about 9/11. Everything between them is about 9/11, but 9/11 is also something that they don’t mention expect to honor all those lives that were lost. Because nothing he says can compare to 9/11, T.K. finds himself being angrier with his mom about everything that went wrong with his childhood, even though she’s the one who actually gave a damn when, by some freak accident, he won his second grade spelling bee or when he starred in his fourth grade play about the planets or when he had ambitions of being a tennis star when all the sixth grade boys at his cushy private school thought that tennis was cool.

To keep his hands busy, T.K. gets to work washing the firetruck, and even as he’s handling this big machine, he still feels like that eight-year-old using his toy firetruck to put out the burning anxiety that raised voices have always caused. “I didn’t know that you needed to know everything mom does,” T.K. says with a terseness to his voice. It’s about as angry as he ever gets with Owen, especially since Owen’s diagnosis. It feels wrong to yell at someone who was sick.

“It just seems like something you’d mention.” Owen’s voice is still so casual, and it grates on T.K.’s nerves because he can feel himself being put in the middle and asked to show his loyalty. For nearly twenty years, he’s been asked covertly to take sides, and despite his bitterness, he’s almost always taken Owen’s.

“I didn’t ask her to come.” T.K. won’t admit that his mom being there felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He’d missed her. They weren’t that close, not like he and his dad, but sometimes, he still just wanted to be close to her and smell the perfume that she still wore even after all these years.

“It would be okay if you did.” That line was from the “How to Be Nice About Your Ex in front of Your Kid” handbook, and T.K. saw right through it with a stinging skepticism he always had when it came to his parents.

“I don’t know why she bothered. I probably won’t have time to see her, anyway.” She could enjoy the sights of Austin without him because seeing her would be too complicated. She’d be pissed off, but she’d been disappointed by Strand men enough to know not to get her hopes up.

“You can’t ignore you mom, son.”

“Yeah, she’s kind of hard to ignore.” The truth was that T.K. wouldn���t actually not see her. He wasn’t that much of a jerk as much as he wished he was. He couldn’t stay away if he tried.

“Why don’t you go to dinner one night? Bring Carlos along. Your mom would love meeting him.” She’d subtly hinting that she wanted to meet Carlos for weeks. T.K. had mostly brushed her suggestions off, but Carlos might be a good buffer. He was great with moms from what T.K. had seen. No one charmed middle aged ladies better.

“Yeah, maybe,” T.K. says before getting back to work. He doesn’t want that conversation to linger because there’s too many blisters that might just pop open if he pokes too hard. Even when Owen gets the message to let the conversation drop, T.K. still feels a grumpiness come over him.

---

Paul is the first of the 126 to bring up T.K.’s foul mood. He broaches the topic carefully, giving T.K. that knowing look, the one that says, “I’m not going to push you but prepare for some light prodding.” T.K. almost runs away when he sees that look, but he’s in the middle of lifting a weight, so he doesn’t have much choice but to stick around. He groans, and he’s not sure if it’s from heaving the weight up or the heaviness of what he knows Paul is about to say.

“My parents got divorced when I was young too, you know,” Paul says. “It sucks.”

T.K. sits up on the bench, and he really doesn’t want to be part of the divorced parents’ club. He acts like he’s over it. Pretends that it was best for everyone. Deludes himself into thinking that the divorce cured a lot of heartache. Maybe it helped his parents, but for T.K., the divorce was didn’t make anything easier for T.K. “It sucked more when they were fighting all the time. The divorce was a relief.” Relief was the wrong word, but it felt like the right thing to say, the thing that a well-adjusted kid of divorce would say. The divorce didn’t change anything. It just made things quieter, and the quiet only made T.K. feel more alone.

“Yeah, I get that, man. My dad was a new person once he divorced my mom. Happier. Mom took more time, but eventually, she was happier too.” The issue with T.K.’s parents was that no one was happier. The divorce left them all sullen and heartbroken.

“What about you? Were you happier?” T.K. could’ve been happier post-divorce, maybe, but for whatever reason, he’d never stopped being angry about it. After 9/11, he stopped feeling like he had a family.

“It took time. Less time than my mom but more than my dad. My sister took the longest of us all, but we figured it out. We learned to be a family again without being a family together. For a long time, I thought that coming out as trans would send ripples through my family and destroy the steadiness we’d finally found, but I realized that I couldn’t run away from myself to please them.”

“That’s an unfair burden to carry.” T.K. comments. He doesn’t like where this conversation is heading, but he doesn’t want to invalidate Paul’s feelings, especially because he doesn’t know exactly what trauma Paul has faced for being trans.

Paul gives a half-smile. “Yeah, but it turned out okay in the end. It took a little adjustment, but we survived it.”

“Sometimes surviving is all you can do.” T.K. picks up a weight and starts doing bicep curls. He looks down at the pendant hanging around his neck. “After 9/11, my dad never really came back to us. He got obsessed with the job, and to be a part of his life, I had to become obsessed with the job as well.” T.K. realizes that he’s said more than he wanted to, and he tries to backtrack. If only you could press the undo button on the things you say. “What I mean is that we worked out our shit.”

Paul quirks an eyebrow. “Is that so?” but he doesn’t comment on it any farther.

---

Judd is blunter when he brings it up. “You angry at your dad?” T.K. looks up sharply. They’re just supposed to be playing foosball, not taking a deep dive into T.K.’s psychological state. Everyone seems to have thoughts about how he must be feeling.

T.K. plays it cool because getting angry will be a dead giveaway that he’s defensive and when he’s defensive, he’s probably avoiding the full truth. “Nope. We get along great. We couldn’t spend as much time together as we do if we didn’t. I’m not sure why you think something is wrong.”

“You can get along great and still be angry. Feelings are complex.” Cowboy Judd was now an expert on feelings.

Judd doesn’t stop there. Of course, he doesn’t. Judd doesn’t stop until he’s drilled it through his head what he wants you to hear. He’s not about subtlety. “You know I love my dad, but we haven’t always gotten along. There use to be a time when we’d bicker all the time. Couldn’t be in the same room without fighting.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know. I guess we stopped dancing around each other and we started saying what we were really mad about. No point in keeping it hidden.”

“My dad and I don’t even fight, not really.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have stuff to fight over.”

“We’re fine Judd.”

“You’ve been tense ever since your mom came into town.”

“Then, maybe she’s the one I’m mad at.”

“Maybe or maybe she’s just the one you take your anger out on.”

T.K.’s defenses go up. “Whatever.” Judd gets the memo, and he goes back to focusing on the game.

Judd hits the ball, putting it into the goal.  “Game over, pretty boy. You can’t cheat your way into winning.”

“I don’t cheat.”

Judd laughs, “Sure you don’t, spin master.” Judd gets more serious. “You can’t run from who you are forever either.”

“I don’t try to,” But Judd’s words stuck with him. Sometimes the cowboy could pretty damn wise. Must’ve been Grace’s influence. She rounded out Judd’s edges. Judd and T.K. they were a lot alike- hot blooded and quick to fire up. They used their passion to be better at their jobs, but too often, their passion burned them.

---

Dinner with his mom starts as it always does. They hug and Gwyneth kisses him on the cheek, smiling broadly and saying how handsome he looks. Then, T.K. introduces Carlos to his mom, and she fawns over him, look positively delighted that T.K. found such a nice man. She’d hated Alex, and most of T.K.’s boyfriends before that.

They sit at the table, and T.K. can feel his anxiety rising up the longer they sit. Carlos is great. He’s filling the gaps of the conversation and the perfect balance of cheerful to T.K.’s sullen. Gwyn can’t get enough. Carlos has her laughing, and it sends a bitter jolt through T.K. that he’s the only one not having fun.

“So, Tyler, how’s your job been?” Owen had gotten T.K. in the divorce while Gwyn had gotten Tyler.

“What do you care?” T.K. snaps.

Hurt fills her face, and Carlos looks alarm at the shift in mood. “I’m your mom. Of course, I care.”

“You hate that I’m a firefighter.” She thought his job was too dangerous, especially after he got shot, but mostly, he figures that she was mad that he’d move across the country with his dad instead of staying behind with her.

She shakes her head, her smiling becoming tense, but she’s obviously trying to control her emotions. She’s an expert of controlling when she wants to. “That’s not true. It’s what you’ve always wanted to be.”

“Yeah, but you think it’s only because of dad. You’re bitter that I chose what he wanted instead of what you wanted,” he’s really lashing out now, and he can’t help the words rolling off his tongue. He’s doing the equivalent of yelling, but his voice is softer as to not cause a scene in the restaurant.

“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to do what made you happy. I worried you were just being a firefighter to please your dad. I never had a problem with you choosing to be like him. I fell in love with your dad in part because he followed his passions and wanted to help people.”

T.K. rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“I like those things about T.K. too,” Carlos chirps, trying to ease some of the tension, and it only does enough that T.K. shuts up, trying to get through the dinner. He gets through. Just barely, and not without getting in a few snippy remarks.

Carlos is seething after the dinner. They get back to Carlos’ apartment, and T.K. just wants to blow off some steam, but Carlos isn’t in a kissing mood. “Why were you such an asshole to your mom? You’d never yell at your dad like that.” T.K. doesn’t want to have to keep defending himself to everyone he knows. They don’t know what it was like back in New York when he was a kid trying to balance out his parents’ wishes, and always having to be a disappointment no matter what he did.

“Because she doesn’t give a damn about what I want. She’s upset that I chose to be a firefighter instead of a lawyer or whatever else she wanted me to be.”

“She only asked you how your job was, and you flipped out! You got mad at her when she asked anything about you.”

“That’s how my parents are! Everything they say is a chess game trying to make me choose a side. Every time they ask about my interests or what I want, they’re really just trying to test who I love more. That question about New York… that was her trying to get me to say that I like her home better than his.” She had asked if T.K. missed the city. T.K. said he didn’t, but T.K. would always miss the city, at least a little. He loves Austin, and Austin has healed him, or started to. It has given him a family, and friends, and Carlos, but New York would always give him a special kind of rush. He grew up there, and it would always feel like home even if it wasn’t always where his heart was.

“Maybe she’s not the one you’re angry with.”

“Have you been talking to Judd?”

“What?” Carlos sounds confused.

“Judd said basically the same thing.” Having a family meant a lot of meddling.

“When there’s a pattern, you shouldn’t ignore it,” Carlos says, voice still biting.

“Just because I’m not as close to my mother as you are with yours, it doesn’t mean I have some bigger issue that I need to work out. Sometimes, parents and children just don’t get along.”

“I mean that maybe she’s a stand in for the person you want to yell at.”

“Yeah?” T.K. seethed. “When did you get your psychology degree?”

“I’ll drop it if you answer this one question honestly.”

“What’s that?”

“Why did you become a firefighter?” Now, that is a loaded question, one he couldn’t answer without reaffirming some of what Carlos was suggesting. T.K. doesn’t want to think about the truth. He doesn’t want to vocalize it and start to unpack all those feelings he’s been packed away since he was a little kid.

“Because I wanted to save people.” He did want to save people. When he sees a person in trouble, he wants to save them, even if it means sacrificing himself, especially kids. When he sees a kid in danger, he wants to keep him safe because no kid should feel unsafe, unloved, or unworthy of being helped.

“You could’ve chosen a dozen career paths if that saving people the main reason, but it’s not.”

“I don’t know, Carlos. It was convenient.”

“Convenient? Really? It doesn’t seem to me that you do things because they’re convenient.” The anxiety was revving up in T.K. again. All those repressed thoughts, bubbling in his consciousness.

“It’s easier to be mad at her,” T.K. admits.

“Why?” Carlos presses.

“I wanted my dad to love me, but he left. He checked out, but she was always there. I knew she would be there. I knew if I yelled at her, she wasn’t going to go away. When my mom got upset, she’d get mad, but she never left. When dad got mad, he couldn’t’ t handle it and would make an excuse about having to work. It wasn’t his fault. He was going through a lot and a bratty kid didn’t help anything, but I always worried that one day, he wouldn’t come back, so I learned not to yell at him. I learned to avoid his triggers. I learned how to keep him in my life.”

Carlos sighs, some of the anger dropping from his face, “You can’t keep that all bottled up, T.K., and it doesn’t help anyone to keep being angry at your mom about something that has nothing to do with her.”

“I know that. It’s just so fucking messy in my head.” He’s starting to feel sick to his stomach. He needs to talk to his mom. “Can you do me a favor?”

Carlos brushes a hand down T.K.’s arm, “What do you need?”

“Can you take me to my mom’s hotel.”

For the first time since they got to Carlos’ apartment, Carlos smiles. “That can be arranged.”

Carlos drops T.K. off and parks the car, giving T.K. the chance to have a few minutes alone with his mom. He nervously knocks on the door. She opens it, looking surprised to see him. “Tyler? What are you doing here?”

He throws his arms around her and drops his head to her shoulder. “I’m so sorry mom for treating you like shit all these years.” She ushers him into the hotel room and sits him down on the chair.

“It’s okay,” she says, combing her hand through his hair, which only makes T.K. feel worse for the way he’s treated her. He knows she’ll never hold it against him. She’ll love him just the same, and he wants to try to be a better son for her. He wants to let her into his life and mend all the bitterness he unfairly feels against her. He knew he’d need to talk to her, and his dad. It would take time, but maybe somehow someway, his mom being in town wouldn’t have to feel like bad news because it was good to feel close to her. “I’ll always be by your side.”

[spacecakes20]

Begin Again

(Chapter 4)

Chapter 5: Luna, Pool Night

Friday came so quickly; Luna barely had any time to even notice. All her days were starting to blur together now that she wasn’t in charge of scheduling meetings and appointments. Looking through her planer, she had nearly forgotten about the plans she made to meet Sam and his friends at the Stardrop Saloon. Well, she didn’t make any promises, but she was still planning to go. She just didn’t want to commit just in case she chickened out and didn’t show. First things first; she needed to wash up and change. She wanted to look more presentable; her current mud crusted overalls didn’t exactly scream “Friday Night Out with Friends.”

     Friends. Would she consider them friends? Acquaintances perhaps. She’d only been living here since the start of spring, and summer was fast approaching. But despite her short amount of time in Pelican Town, everyone seemed to welcome her with open arms. Well, almost everyone. Some were warmer than others, but Luna didn’t really blame them. She still considered herself a stranger here, and it’ll probably take a while for her to find her footing.

     After a nice warm shower, Luna went through her fresh clothes. It was surprisingly hard for her to find anything casual that didn’t scream “business party” or “important meeting.” Most of her wardrobe consisted of dress suits and cocktail dresses. Only at the very bottom of her unpacked boxes of clothes did she find her more casual wear. Zuzu University shirts that were way too big for her, sweats, and short-shorts that were way too short. Luna made a mental note to go shopping in the city sometime soon for more casual wear.

     Don’t overthink it, Luna. I’m sure no one’s going to pay attention to how you’re dressed. Unfortunately for her, overthinking seemed to be one of Luna’s hidden talents. Working with the higher-ups at Joja HQ, she had no choice but to be self-conscious about how she was dressed around other people. Especially if she was with Charles...

     Luna shook those thoughts away, and decided fuck it, she’ll wear what she wanted; and decided to put on the tee-shirt and shorts. It was supposed to be a relaxing and fun night after all, and Luna was tired of overthinking herself into oblivion. Throwing on some socks and her favorite pair of high tops, she grabbed her keys and was off to the saloon.

     The sun was still up, but it was still comfortable outside, despite summer being just around the corner. Her stroll wasn’t too long, but she took her time to enjoy the soothing sounds of spring. She made it to the saloon, already able to hear the music and chatter from outside. Upon entering, scanning the inside, she noticed there was more than just a few people in here.

     She noticed Leah off at her own table. She had a glass of wine in hand, tapping her foot to the beat of the music playing on the jukebox. Pam was seated at one of the bar stools, nursing an ale while holding a conversation with the bartender, Gus. Next to Gus was a blue-haired woman. Emily, if Luna remembered correctly. She was conversing with a man in a worn-out blue jacket with a five o’clock shadow. Shane, right? Marnie’s nephew? Before she even had time to think about it any further, she heard her name being called. Searching the room for the source of the voice, she saw Mayor Lewis seated at one of the tables near the entrance. She smiled and made her way over to him with a small wave.

     “It’s nice to see you out and about Luna.” Lewis smiled kindly, “Your grandfather could be quite stubborn, I feel like he rarely ever took breaks.” His smile turned bittersweet.

     Luna couldn’t help her own sad smile gracing her features. She remembered how hard-working her grandfather was. Remembered the pride and joy that always decorated his face whenever he spoke about his farm. How frustrated and heartbroken he was when his old age started to slow him down and keep him from his work… Shaking those sad thoughts away, she decided to try and lighten the mood, “You’re speaking too soon!” She chuckled, “According to my dad, I’m just as stubborn as my grandpa. I just haven’t shown you my fullest potential yet.”

     That got the amused response she was hoping for. Lewis simply shook his head, a light laugh escaping him, “Of course. Just be sure not to overwork yourself, okay? Your grandfather would haunt me for the rest of my days if I let anything happen to his granddaughter.”

     Luna smiled warmly at that, “Don’t worry sir, I’ll take care of myself.”

     Lewis took another sip of his drink before shooing her off, “Don’t let me keep you. Grab a drink and relax.”

     “Will do,” Luna nodded. She did another quick scan of the saloon before she noticed the game room that was off to the side of the building. She made her way over to one of the arcade machines. Reading the cabinet, she realized it was Journey of the Prairie King. Luna was suddenly hit with a strong wave of nostalgia. She remembered she used to play that game with her dad. Lola wasn’t too good at video games, so she’d usually just watch. It was how the three of them would spend time together on the rare occasion their dad wasn’t too busy with work. Before her parent’s split…

     She was mercifully brought out of her thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat. She froze for a second, unaware someone else was here too. Turning to the source of the noise, her heart stopped at the site. A familiar tall man in black high-tops ripped skinny jeans and a black hoodie. But what caught her most off guard were his eyes. Of course, she wouldn’t forget those eyes. They reminded her of quartz. So cloudy, like a rainstorm, yet crystal clear and cool, like filtered water. And they were looking right at her.

     Sebastian mumbled out a, “Hey.” Before getting back to chalking the end of a cue stick. That was when Luna noticed there was a pool table in the middle of the room. 

     “Hey.” Luna returned the greeting, slowly making her way to the said pool table. “I’m sorry, did I show up too late?”

     He shook his head, eyes never leaving the table, “Early, actually.”

     That did make her feel relieved, but also a bit nervous. This would be the first time Luna and Sebastian were truly alone together since the door incident. Sure, they made amends at the Flower Dance, but they had Sam and Abigail there with them as a sort of buffer. Come to think of it, had she ever been alone with Sebastian before? There was their first meeting at the docks, but she hadn’t even known his name and they were only together for a second. Did that even count?

      “Do you play?” His question caught her off guard.

      “Huh?”

      “Pool.” He finally looked at her, “Do you play pool?”

      “Oh.” She was a little surprised at the fact that he was the one trying to start the conversation. Was he trying to make her feel more comfortable? This was probably awkward for him too, so perhaps this was just his way of breaking the ice? “No, I’m afraid I haven’t.”

       He hummed out as a response, and the room filled with silence again.

       “What about you?” Luna asked, trying her best to fill the stillness, “Do you play?”

       His eyes never left the pool table as he smirked to himself. Something about it looked cocky and she had to admit; it looked good on him. “Yeah, I play. Me and Sam play every Friday. He still hasn’t managed to beat me.”

       Luna hummed, amused by his slight change in demeanor. She decided to humor him. “How do you play?”

       “Huh?” He blinked at her, the confidant gleam in his eyes now replaced with genuine surprise.

       She smiled up at him and asked again, “How do you play?”

       He stood there a while, still as a statue. For a minute, she wondered if she might have said something wrong. Her mind was set at ease however when he grabbed the other cue stick and handed it to her. She graciously took it and watched as he took the balls from the table and organized them in a triangular rack.

       “The goal,” He said, giving the rack a light shake, “Is to pocket all of your designated balls, and then the eight ball.” He pointed out the round black orb with an “8” written on it in the middle of a white circle. 

         Luna nodded in understanding, but her brows were furrowed, “That sounds… simple…”

         Sebastian just chuckled. What a wonderful sound. She wouldn’t mind hearing that again.

         “Simple huh?”

         “I mean…” She looked away, distracting herself by looking at the pool table, “What’s to stop me from just, getting the eight-ball pocketed on my first try?”

         “You’re not allowed to do that.” He said, “You’ll have to sink all of your designated balls first,” He explained simply, “I’ll go first.”

         “Okay…” She fiddled with her cue stick and watched Sebastian’s form closely. He gracefully knocked the white ball, crashing it into the other colorful round orbs. They rolled around the pool table easily, but none fell into any of the pockets. He bit his lip, eyes focused, brow set in concentration before looking over to her.

         “Your turn,” Sebastian said simply.

         “Huh?” Luna looked to him and the pool table in confusion, “Wait, how do I know which balls mine are?”

         He gave a soft lazy smile, “Just pick stripes or solids. I’ll take whichever you don’t.”

         She nodded silently, walking around the ends of the table, searching for an advantage. Finally, she decided on solid colors, leaning over the table and knocking the cue ball into a red one. She missed the pocked by a mere inch.

         “Close.” Sebastian sounded almost impressed, and Luna couldn’t help but feel a little proud. The two went back and forth like this; analyzing their moves, looking for strengths and weaknesses. It was a surprisingly strategic game, and Luna felt a little silly for underestimating it.

         It was nice seeing Sebastian look so relaxed. Which was an amusing thought, because Luna also noticed he seemed to have a bit of a competitive streak. But it wasn’t like she didn’t have one herself. She did enjoy problem solving and challenges, and he felt like the perfect opponent. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was holding back.

         “Not bad.” Sebastian’s voice took on an almost teasing tone, as he hit the eight ball into the closest pocket, “But looks like I win this round.”

         Luna shook her head with a hum, “I can’t help but feel like you went easy on me though.”

         He gave her a half-smile, and she could have sworn he had a dimple, “Do I seem like the type who does that?”

         She didn’t know if she could believe him or not. Sure, he really didn’t seem like the type that would hold back in a game, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was showing some restraint.

         “You don’t look so sure.” His expression was unreadable, “Want to play another round?”

         She agreed to it without a second thought. She watched him closely this time around. He seemed to be in his element; much more at ease here then he seemed to be at the Flower Dance. Perhaps if they had met someplace as relaxed as the saloon, their first meeting might have gone a lot smoother.

         “Hey, Seb!” The new familiar voice caused Sebastian to lose his focus, making him overshoot his target. The cue ball missed the pocket, deciding instead to roll off the table, hitting the floor with a thud and a roll. Sebastian sucked the air between his teeth, eyes darting in the direction of the new voice.

         Sam and Abigail had finally made their way to the saloon, entering the game room with a tray of drinks at hand and a pizza. Sam had seen Sebastian’s missed shot, and gave him a sheepish look, mouthing “sorry” under his breath.

         Luna tried to stifle a giggle, drawing the attention of Sam in the process. “Luna!” He sounded surprised, “You made it!”

         “Yeah,” She smiled a bit sheepishly. “I did.”

         Sebastian had picked up the fallen cue ball, placing it on the table. He gave Luna an embarrassed smile, “Looks like you win by a technicality.”

         Luna wrinkled her nose, “That’s an anti-climactic win.”

         He simply shrugged, “Wanna play another round?” He offered.

         “Wait!” Sam interrupted before Luna could give her answer, “You two were playing pool together?” His eyes looked almost pleading, “Please tell me you won, Luna?”

         She shook her head with a grimace, “Nope. He’s just too good.”

         This answer must have amused Sebastian because he let out a very light chuckle.

         “Don’t encourage him, Luna!” Sam said dramatically, “His ego’s already big enough as it is!”

         Luna just shook her head with a giggle. Looking up to Sebastian, she said, “I’d take you up on your offer, but I know when I’ve been beat.” She smiled simply. Her innocent smile seamlessly morphed into a teasing one, “But I promise, I won’t lose next time.”

         That got her the reaction she was looking for. His lazy smile melted into a smug smirk, “Don’t get too cocky.”

         Abigail cleared her throat, interrupting the playful banter. She grabbed Luna by the arm, surprising her in the process, “Alright,” Abigail said, “You guys can finish this later. I want to get to know our new farmer.”

         Come to think of it, out of the three here, Luna did feel like she interacted with Abigail the lest. They had run into each other a few times in town, only to give out a “hello” in passing. She hadn’t even realized she was a friend of Sam’s, until the Flower Dance.

         Abigail’s bright blue eyes looked over to Luna’s green ones, “Have you ever played Journey of the Prairie King?”

         That earned her a lopsided smile from Luna, “I used to play it a lot as a kid.”

         Abigail’s smile seemed to have brightened upon hearing this. “Think you could help me out than? I’ve been stuck on this one level, and this game is so much easier with two people.”

         Luna looked over to Sebastian and Sam with an apologetic smile, but Sam just waved her off. “No worries Luna.” He said, “I’ll avenge you in pool!”

         Sebastian let out a snort at that, “I highly doubt you can.”

         “Wanna bet?”

         “Sure,” Sebastian answered dryly, without missing a beat, “I could use the extra cash.”

         Luna couldn’t help but giggle at their banter.

         “Try not to lose all of your money, Sam,” Abigail added while placing some change into the arcade machine. The screen blinked to life, and Abigail stepped aside to make room for Luna.

         “You two have no faith in me.” Sam whined dramatically, before pouting at Luna, “You’ll root for me, right?”

         Luna bit back a laugh, “Sure. I’ll cheer you on.”

         Luna was happy she didn’t place any bets by the end of the night. It turned out Abigail and Sebastian weren’t joking; Sam truly was just that bad at pool.

(Chapter 6)

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Banished (Part 23)

*Not my Gif*

Summary: When the 100 was sent to the ground, Y/N Y/L/N was one of them. Having been locked up for almost 8 years, how will she react to surviving on Earth? Especially when she gets banished…

Post Date: 11-8-19

Paring: Bellamy Blake x Reader (slow burn)

Word Count: 2K

A/N: I know it’s got an abrupt ending but like it’ll make sense next chapter I promise!

~Banished Master~

~Master List~

*Based off episode 2x10 of the 100, Survival of The fittest

**Bold Italics are in Trig so you can understand!!

When the grounders came to Camp Jaha you went with them, marching next to Indra and just watching. No one wanted them here. They made that completely clear by the way Kane was the only one to make any move to welcome them in. You kept your head down, listening to Indras words the best you could.

Kane has stopped you all the first moment he could, welcoming you all. He couldn’t help as his eyes drifted to you, softening momentarily.

“Weapons there please. Only the guards are armed.” Indra was the first to drop her weapon, the grounder behind her comping fast but you just gripped right onto your weapon and your jaw set. “Y/N?” Kane said as a slight warning, making your eyes shoot up to him.

“Kane.” The silence coming over you too was short as Octavia acted as your buffer, running up and placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, it’s alright Kane. I got this.” She nodded towards the man who was reluctant to leave you. After the other night at the camp fire you’ve acted like Kane didn’t exist. In fact, getting you to say his name was a huge step. You met Octavias eyes who just smiled lightly at you. “You have to get up your weapon. I know, it sucks.”

“Can you blame me? Everyone here either wants me dead or wants me gone.” Just to prove your point, a Grounder had shoved you with his shoulder, making you scoff.

“Hey! You have a problem?” You asked him bitterly, squaring up to him as best you could.

“With you, Skaikiler? You’re a murderer.” You clenched your fists, glaring start the Grounder you didn’t know as Octavia pulled your arm back, giving the man a look at pulling you to the side.

“Not everyone wants you dead, Y/N.” She whispered as you finally pulled your attention back to her. The grip on your arm loosened when you pulled her in for a hug. You heard a few shouts coming from the entrance to the Ark as a few grounders and sky people ‘met’. You grabbed the sword still hung by your waist, ready in case something escalated. But after a few minutes the grounders kept moving and the guards went back to standing around. “It’s a start.” Octavia whispered, putting her hand over yours. “Neither of them trust each other.”

“Why should they? After Finn and Gustus, I’m honestly surprised Lexa agreed to this.” You told her as you looked around camp, hoping to get a glimpse of a certain black haired man but mainly just looking out, trying to get used to everything. Octavia saw your movements as your eyes darted from the front gate to the entrance to the ark to the areas surrounding it.

“Come on.” You both make your way into the ark, trying to find where Kane would’ve taken Indra when you ran into someone you hadn’t seen in a while.

“Well, What do you know? Crazy lives.” Murphy said as he comes around the corner, almost running right into you two. You matched his smirk with one of your own, crossing your arms over your chest and shook your head.

“As does the cockroach.” He chuckled at the nickname, raising a brow and stuck his hand out. You looked gingerly at his hand before grabbing it with yours. Murphy had done lots of shitty things since you landed on the earth, yet so had you. “I honestly thought you’d have gotten yourself killed Murphy. Glad to see I wasn’t completely right.”

He laughed at your joke as you all made your eat through the ark. The meeting was just starting as you all filled the empty spaces, you staying as far from Kane as you could. You leaned on the wall as Kane made a speech about a common enemy, Mount Weather, and a common goal, getting everyone out of there.

“You got a problem?” The grounder from outside had been staring at Murphy during Kane’s speech and as soon as you noticed you were off the wall, coming to Murphy’s side.

“You stood there watching while my village was massacred.” You barely understood his words but you got the gist, stepping in front of the Murphy.

“He doesn’t understand you.” You told him right before he shoved you to the side, making you crash right into the wall where you slammed your head into it.

“Hey! Watch it!” Murphy yelled as he helped steady you, looking at the blood coming from your new wound. Octavia was by your side soon too, her hands on your shoulders as Kane tried to make Murphy apologize.

“For what?! He was the one who came to me and pushed Y/N into the wall!” Kane wasn’t taking Murphy’s arguments as he continued to make Murphy apologize by threatening work detail. It wasn’t long before fist were flying and you were pulling some man off Murphy.

“Stop! Get off him!” You looked to Kane who was staring at the door as you called his name. “Kane a little help here!” His eyes widened as he obliged, breaking up a few fights as Indra left the room, soon clearing until you were left with Kane, Murphy, and Octavia. “What the hell was that Kane?” You barked out as the man quirked a brow. “That was your big plan for peace? A meeting and some training?” You didn’t even listen as you stormed out of the room, holding your bleeding head with your hand.

The grounders has started their training already, hand to hand combat as you watched for a minute. Penn, as you heard Indra call the grounder who had made your day hell, kept sending you glares as you bit your lip, taking in each some of their moves before walking up to Indra.

“I’m next.” You told her as she blocked a punch thrown her way by rolling on the ground. She gave you an incredulous look as you stood your ground. “I want to learn to fight like this.”

She stopped her training when she held up her hand, making everyone watch the interaction. “You might dress like one of us, but you’re still one of them.” She whispered in your face as you swallowed thickly.

Yeah, Octavia was totally right. Not everyone wants you dead or gone. Some couldn’t care less about you.

“We’re supposed to train together.” You reminded her in Trig, trying to fit in as best as you could. A few snickers around you made you think you’d made a mistake as Indra walked away, a smirk on her face.

You weren’t going to give up that easily though.

“Indra, you know you need this alliance and building trust between Skykru and Trikru starts with us. Let me fight with you.” She seemed to hear your words, looking at you through the corner of her eye when her back is turned. But she didn’t act upon them, instead she completely ignored you.

You walked away with a huff, finding the first place you could to sit down. This whole plan of peace with the grounders was going awful. Indra still didn’t trust you and neither did Skykru. Kane was getting on your nerves by acting all mightier than thou, and you couldn’t find Bellamy anywhere. You just assumed he had gone with Clarke to Tondc to talk to Lexa where you should’ve stayed. You were worried about him. You couldn’t help but try and guess what he wanted to talk to you about by the fire and the fact that he wasn’t around right now just increased your worries.

A gun going off pulled your from your thoughts as you followed the loud boom, finding a few men firing the guns. You watched in awe, you knew your way around weapons but a gun wasn’t some bind you had experience on. You watched.

“Want to try?” You spun on your heel, catching Kane walking up to you. You kept from rolling your eyes, watching the shooters again. “Come on Y/N. You Mount Weather has guns, we should too.” He begged much to your distain.

“I’ve made it this far without them.”

“Barely.” You snapped your head back at him, glaring your eyes. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Kane caught onto your silence, mistaking it for agreement. “Just a few minutes Y/N.”

It surprised you almost as much as it surprised him when you finally gave in. You stood facing your target, your hand wrapped around the metal object as you pointed it. Kane adjusted your grip, moving your fingers and helping you aim. It felt like normal. Like you were back on the ark and Kane was teaching you how to fight again. And that scared you more than anything.

“Stop!” You yelled as you let the gun clatter on the ground. Kane just stood shocked as you took a step away from him, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. A few people around you looked your way, stopping their training to do so. “Just stop Kane. I cant... I can’t take this right now.”

Kane watched as you walked off, the gun long forgotten on the ground.

It was almost a game of cat and mouse with your emotions. No matter what they sneak up on you and you aren’t prepared for anything. The last thing you wanted was for tears to pour down your face but as you walked away from Kane, finding a spot to sit all alone, all you could think about was not crying.

You stared at the scuffled dirt in front of you as you buried your head in your knees, the feeling of dried blood running across your fingers as you felt your newest wound. It felt like your head was spinning and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

How come pain seemed to be the one thing you couldn’t control? You wanted it to stop, you wanted to feel nothing and yet you couldn’t do it. But you knew how.

You made your way back to the Grounders training area, seeing Octavia stand up to Indra only to get turned away.

“Let us fight.” You demanded, meeting Octavia’s side as she turned to you with a grin. Indra just scoffed.

“Step aside Skygirl.” She spat, looking you up and down as you took a step forward.

“Make me.”

Indra wasn’t expecting that answer as she turned to the men around her. “Fio! Penn! Give them what they want.” The two men stepped out, Fio challenging Octavia and Penn for you. He took the first swing, making you dodge to your left as you brought an elbow in between his shoulder blades. He faltered but didn’t fall, making you stumble back. You took the next swing, missing and receiving one in the back that sent you to the ground on your face, gasping in pain. Your already pounding head felt like it was on fire as you started seeing double, shaking it off and standing up again. You risked a glanced at Octavia seeing her on her knees with a bloody face as you felt the warm liquid dribble down yours. You barely had time to look back at Penn before his fist was sent flying into your jaw and you fell to the ground once more. Only this time you couldn’t get up. Blood spilled on your mouth as you coughed it up, spitting it down your cheek and into the dirt as your vision blurred more than you thought possible. It felt like someone dropped a tree over your head and when you tried to push yourself back up you couldn’t, only landing back on the ground. Penn took the opportunity of you incapable of getting up to stand over you, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and barely lifting you up. Your head lulled to the ground, not even able to be held up correctly.

“This is for my people, Skaikiler.” He whispered before bringing his fist right in contact with your left eye and soon all you could see was darkness as you passed out from the excruciating pain.

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*Reblogging with Banished Tags*

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[patandpran]

The Nuisance and the Handsome Prince - A Sarawatine Medieval AU - Chapter 9

Tine is an aspiring Squire who has been training his whole life to work alongside the Kingdom’s finest Knights. Sarawat is a Prince who, on the outside, seems fierce and unapproachable. He is disinterested in any of his royal duties, namely his Knight training. What happens when Tine is assigned to be the fierce and handsome prince’s Squire?

Find the Masterpost here Read on Archiveofourown here.

Lord Mil and Sarawat arrived together on the field just as Man and Boss were completing their story of the two young men’s coming of age ceremony. Tine could practically feel Sarawat’s intense gaze boring into him but as soon as he saw the pair approaching, Tine made a point of turning back toward his work but not before catching Lord Mil shooting him a look with narrowed eyes.

Tine had never experienced hostility of any sort from the Lord so the interaction threw him for a bit of a loop. Tine recalled over the few weeks of training that Mil had made a point of being quite friendly and instantly worried that the Prince had shared the happenings of the evening before with his close friend.

Before Tine could overthink it any more, Dim called the Squires and Knights to attention with a booming voice, “All right. I am sure you all are feeling the effects of last night’s festivities but I have no sympathy for your bad decisions so we are jumping right in today whether you like it or not. There is only one month until the final Knight trails so training is going to be more intense than you have ever imagined. In a week’s time we will be venturing beyond the castle walls on a battle and survival training mission so make you sure you have your helmets on straight for it will be an experience that you will not soon forget. Squires will also be in attendance for this journey of wills.”

The announcement sparked a flurry of discussion amongst the Knights and Squires. Tine saw out of the corner of his eye that the Prince was about to approach him but, thankfully, Ohm ventured over and the Prince froze in place before opting to join Sir Man and Sir Boss instead.

“You disappeared last night.” Ohm accused as he neared Tine. “Mil had us up far too late. I think I consumed a whole barrel of wine to myself. Needless to say I woke up feeling as if your brother was hammering my head on his blacksmith slab.”

“Did I do something to offend Lord Mil last evening?” Tine wondered with his tone lowered. “I mean, I know I am not very warm to him for obvious reasons but he seems to also view me as an enemy now. I suppose that, at least, puts on a level playing field.”

Ohm shrugged, “Mil can be so hot and cold with how he feels about people. Did you say something to the Prince while you two ran off together? You know they are close so maybe Mil is just being protective.”

“No. Nothing happened.” Tine sputtered, trying to keep himself calm so that his best friend did not see through the ruse. He remembered the promise he made to Fong earlier than morning and questioned, “Would you be inclined to see Fong again?”

At the very mention of Fong’s name, Ohm’s eyes lit up and he responded eagerly, “Yes. I mean, of course.”

“Okay. I’ll arrange it.” Tine nodded curtly before noticing that Sarawat had walked over, clearly ready to put on his armour.

“Your Highness.” Ohm nodded respectfully to the Prince. “Tine, I should go help Lord Mil but keep me informed on the… situation.”

Tine smirked at his friend but wished Ohm could remain near them to serve as a buffer but he and Sarawat were going to have to navigate the previous evening’s event at some point and it looked like that moment was now. Tine braced himself for an accusation or a question from Sarawat but instead the Prince was silent as Tine began to outfit him with his amour.

Throughout the whole practice, Sarawat did not say a word beyond what was necessary to Tine. It felt like a sharp wind had extinguished the fire that usually seemed to be lit inside Sarawat. It seemed like something had dimmed and Tine even noticed his gaze was not as sharp as it usually was. The Prince was going through the motions and it was incredibly hard to watch.

At the end of the morning practice, Tine made to follow Sarawat to the storage quarters but the Prince held up a hand and simply ordered, “Thank you, Squire. I can take it from here.”

Tine felt as if he had been slapped squarely across his face as he watched the Prince walk away, his head hanging. Tine turned away from the sight and was met with another intense glare coming from Lord Mil. Tine forced himself to remember his purpose in the castle: rise to take revenge.

This was exactly what was needed to get him back on his path. It was no use to him to build relationships when, ultimately, his goal was to disrupt the very class system that some of those people operated in. The way that Lord Mil was looking at him affirmed this belief for Tine. There was always going to be those who looked down on him, even if he now carried a title with his name and lived within the castle walls. The kingdom was corrupt. The system was broken and even though he know that it was impossible for one commoner to change that, he was going to do the best he could with the little power that he had and that started with helping Sarawat to complete his Knight training.

+++++++

A pair of eyes watched as the Prince walked away from his Squire.

The Head Knight had noticed a while ago that the Sarawat had a unique relationship with his Squire and through the whispers he had heard from the servants, the pair even met outside of the usual training times. The Head Knight recognized skill when he saw it and the Prince’s Squire was a valuable fighter. He would have made a great Knight if he had not been a commoner.

His son had informed him that since the Squire’s arrival, the Prince had changed, some might even say for the better. His work ethic in practice was strengthened and his overall mood seemed to be lifted. Mil, of course, being the Prince’s friend said this with fondness but the Head Knight never approved of his son’s friendship with the Prince. Since they were young, they were meant to be rivals, not comrades. If the Prince was becoming a stronger fighter, this threatened Mil’s station as the Kingdom’s most promising new Knight.

The Head Knight would not have that so he set the wheels in motion to eliminate the new factor of the equation….

++++++++++

The days passed at an snail’s pace and Tine found himself focusing on their trip beyond the castle’s walls to keep himself from imploding mentally. The silent treatment from the Prince had become a daily practice, even during their private training sessions, although they were not exactly private anymore as the Prince had invited Sir Boss and Sir Man to join them which Tine actually found himself relieved about.

One evening during one of the practices, Sir Man approached Tine as Sarawat and Boss were in the middle of a scrimmage. Man looked a bit nervous and Tine had no frame of reference for what Man was going to possibly say to him.

Man cleared his throat and reached into a pocket before revealing a small piece of parchment, tied with a strip of leather. Man looked to see if Boss or the Prince was looking their way before passing it off to Tine who looked at Man incredulously.

“From your brother.” Man explained in a whisper.

At this, Tine’s eyes widened but he concealed the message quickly, wondering how much Man had risked even bringing it into the castle. He knew that Type had made Man’s mask for the ball but he did not know that Man had managed to see Type again after the initial interaction. Type found himself envious of Man but did not bring this up. It also worried Tine that Type had shared their familial connection with Man, a person Type barely knew. It was all so out of character for his brother but Tine was grateful that the link had been made if it meant easier communication with his family.

Man seemed to notice Tine’s anxiety and shared, “Don’t worry. You can trust me. I am extremely fond of your brother. I would do nothing to put either of you in harm’s way.”

Tine’s breath hitched at how open Man was about his feelings. It was a breath of fresh air amongst all the secrecy and concealed thoughts that Tine found himself immersed in. It seemed that he had found himself another ally within the confines of the castle.

“Thank you.” Tine murmured. “Just so you know, my brother is a difficult person to get to know but I have a sense you are up for the challenge. Good luck.”

Man’s eyes danced with anticipation, “More than up for it. Thank you for the encouragement.”

With that, Man ran off to meet up with his friends again. Later that evening, when Tine made it back to his own sleeping quarters, he lit a candle and opened the letter form his brother, buzzing with excitement.

Except the letter was not from his brother, it was in his father’s handwriting and the contents read:

Tine, my beloved son,

Your mother and I are extremely proud of everything that you have accomplished. We have heard rumours from Ohm’s father that you are progressing well with your work with the young Prince. When you first announced that you wanted to be a Squire, I recall wondering for a brief moment: who had I raised?

But I think you know the path you are on. You know where it will lead you and I know that wherever your journey will take you, you will always be driven by your inner strength and morality. Stay safe and stay true.

Most importantly, remember who you are.

By the time Tine was done reading the message for the third time, the parchment was stained with his tears. The ink began to blur but he quickly concealed the message for safekeeping so it did not weather any further. It was incredible to know that his Father knew he needed such a reminder without even being able to see Tine or know what he was faced with.

The internal battle that was tugging him in so many directions settled itself with his Father’s words. He had to be true to his mission, even if it meant sacrificing whatever semblance of a connection that he had built with the Prince.

There was no room for distracting emotions. He had to keep himself focused on accomplishing his goal and ready himself for the battle he was sure would land him in the dungeons. He did not have time to watch the Prince become King, Tine was not sure he would be around for that long after he exacted his plan.

++++++++

“You know, Sarawat, I don’t know if I approve of this new… energy that you are emitting.”

Sarawat looked up from the book he was studying to see Lady Earn regarding him with an air of disapproval. The Prince had not seen his friend since the night of the ball where they had been forced by their parents to dance with one another, even though both of them knew that was never going to happen. Their relationship was perfectly platonic and they liked it that way.

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Sarawat countered with a grumble before he attempted to return to his reading.

“No, but I am going to give it anyway as I am your friend.” Earn answered which caused the Prince to close and set down his book.

He knew he should have taken the book back to the East Tower but the chairs in the Castle library were much comfier than the one he had in the tower. He sighed and decided to indulge his friend, “And what exactly concerns you about my energy concerns you, Lady Earn?”

Earn sat down on armchair across from Sarawat’s, adjusting the train of her dress so that she could sit more comfortably. “Before the Ball, you seemed like your spirits were high. You were dedicated to your training more than I ever have known you to be and dare I say it, some of the court members who are not as familiar with you even described you as ‘pleasant’. Now, here you are, hiding away in the library and scowling at anyone who dares to pass by, even a dear friend like me.”

“I am fine.” Sarawat protested flippantly. He hated being under the eye of accusation which is why he liked to keep mostly to himself although he did have to acknowledge his slight change in demeanour ever since the beginning of Knight training.

Earn reached across to rest a supportive hand atop of Sarawat’s. “You seem like you are hurting and while I don’t expect for you to tell me why, I hope that you are able to find it in you the bravery that it takes to be happy.”

The Prince shifted uncomfortably. The thing about Lady Earn was that she was wildly observant and while this sometimes benefitted him, he did not like to be seen in such a way. Sarawat purposefully chose to close himself off from the world so that he did not get hurt and now one of his closest friends was encouraging him to open up again.

“The thing that will make me happy is unattainable for many reasons.” Sarawat explained soberly.

“You are the future King.” Earn stated plainly. “You can shape the world in any way that you please. Don’t deny yourself happiness just because you are worried about what the court will think.”

“I wish I had the same courage you have.” The Prince remarked and earned himself a small smile from his friend. “You would make a much better ruler than I ever will.”

“I doubt that very much.” Lady Earn chuckled lightly. “You have the warmth in you to have the whole kingdom fall in love with you, the drive to make great changes for the better of ALL people and the strength to stand up to those who cross you. You just have to trust in yourself and learn to show people who you really are. I think you would be shocked by how people would respond to the Prince Wat that I know so well…”

Sarawat appreciated Earn’s words greatly but it still not change his particular predicament. “I can’t marry someone who I don’t love.”

“Looks like you have a month to figure out who you love, then.” Earn stood to her feet and with a cheeky wink, she declared,  “And, Sarawat, for the hundredth time, I will not marry you. I know I am one of the most lovely maidens in the Kingdom but… I’m taken.”

Sarawat shook his head fondly as he watched Lady Earn strut her way out of the library, her words of encouragement playing in his mind.

++++++++++

“Father, can I go on the training excursion with the Knights and Squires?”

Phukong had found about the Knight’s expedition beyond the castle walls and wanted desperately to go along for the adventure. Plus, it would give him great opportunity to paint some new scenes and be able to spend more time with Lord Mil.

“We can not have both of our Princes venturing outside of the Kingdom.” The King muttered and gestured for Phukong to leave him.

Phukong stood his ground and bowed down onto one knee, “Please, Father. I know that you want me to be more like Sarawat and, maybe, if I go with them, I might be inspired to pursue Knighthood myself.”

The King made a sound that indicated he was considering the idea and when Phukong raised his head, he saw that his Father was nodding. “I will enlist one of the more capable Knights to over see your journey then.”

“What about Lord Mil?” Phukong suggested.

“My son would be more than happy to protect the younger Prince.” The Head Knight’s booming voice echoed through the throne room as he approached with heavy steps.

Phukong shivered as he turned. He always been afraid of Mil’s father and he struggled to see the family resemblance aside from the thick brows that they both sported. Where Mil was playful and open, the Head Knight had no patience for such frivolity. He was all business.

“All right, it is settled then.” The King declared. “You will join the caravan tomorrow morning with them. I expect that you will strongly consider the path of Knighthood since I am granting this request, son.”

Phukong nodded eagerly before dashing from the room but not before pausing outside of the throne room to catch his breath as he was so excited. As he was about to set off to pack his things after collecting himself, Phukong paused when he heard his father say something quite peculiar:

“If you are so worried about this Commoner, take him into custody. I will not have whispers of treason in my streets. I expect that you will deal with this promptly and discreetly. Last time you did not follow my orders and made a scene that was not so easy to brush under the rug.”

The Head Knight responded before Phukong took off down the hallways, “And so it will be done, Your Highness.”

Phukong did not like hearing things like, especially not from his Father. He understood that Royal duties meant that it was important to keep peace within the castle but this sounded like they were using their swords to solve the problem rather than talk through it. The thought made Phukong ill and he hoped that when his brother was King, violence would not always be the first course of action.

++++++++++++++++

The Knights and Squires were loading up the materials necessary for their journey. The Knights were working in on section and the Squires in another so Ohm and Tine were free to socialize as they pleased.

“You look quite exhausted, my friend.” Tine smirked at Ohm as he tied one of the Prince’s parcels to a horse.

Ohm’s cheeks burned slightly before admitting, “Fong and I went walking at around midnight and I got back to my quarters only minutes before I had to head out here.”

Tine was delighted to see that his matchmaking seemed to be going quite well. “Yes, Fong looked quite out of sorts when he delivered my breakfast this morning. I am happy for you both. It is good to have a positive distraction such as this.”

“You need to find yourself a companion.” Ohm encouraged. “You can’t just spend all your time plotting or training with the Prince. You deserve happiness too.”

At that very moment, the Knights began to head toward their houses, ready to depart. Sarawat still seemed quite distant but there was a more relaxed sense about him that morning, likely due to the notion of a rare escape from the castle to look forward to. Tine muttered, “I have good friends. I don’t need anything more than that.”

“Don’t resign yourself to loneliness just because of your pride, Tine.” Ohm warned before the Knights arrived.

Lord Mil side-eyed Tine and beckoned for Ohm to join him for final preparations. Tine had shared with him earlier that they would be responsible for accompanying Prince Phukong on their journey so there was an added pressure that was sure to be keeping Lord Mil focused on his task. Tine hoped that was what was keeping Mil so abrasive, but this made it easier for Tine to refocus on his own task.

Sarawat finished chatting with Sir Boss and Sir Man who both gave Tine a respectful nod as they watched the Prince make his way over to his Squire. As he held the highest rank of the Knights in Training, aside from Lord Mil, they were at the front of the caravan, something that made Tine quite nervous.

As he neared, Sarawat got a concerned look on his face as he studied Tine. “Are you up for this journey? You look somewhat pale, Tine.”

Tine could not stand this this extreme back and forth that the Prince put him through. Sarawat either ignored him completely, saying as few words as possible, or stepped back into this realm of care and comfort that made Tine’s head spin with confusion. Why couldn’t they find a neutral in-between where they could work alongside one another without Tine’s heart racing at a million miles an hour?

“Don’t worry about me.” Tine stated plainly. “There is only three more weeks until the final Knight trials. Once you pass them, you have the power to choose your own Squire and then we can part ways so… we don’t have to keep doing this.”

The hurt was apparent on the Prince’s face but he concealed it quickly. Tine continued, “Plus, you will be so busy with upcoming wedding plans as well, you won’t have time to worry about a Commoner like me.”

“I don’t know why you’re doing this.” The Prince hissed in a low whisper that made Tine’s cheeks heat up and reminded him of the evening in the East Tower. “It’s like you want me to hate you, Tine, and, well, we both know that’s never going to happen.”

Tine froze at the word ‘hate’. He didn’t want the Prince to hate him but there was no reality where they could be anything more than comrades and it was tearing them both apart. There was something intangible rippling under the surface and if it revealed itself, Tine was not sure how either of them would turn back from it…

How the hell were they going to survive a week in the wilderness when the biggest threat to them was each other?

[damienthepious]

hello it has become my solemn duty to make all of y’all ship mangelo with me. @shorter-than-her-tbr-pile & @bluerayofsunshine it’s both of your fault that I ship this and therefore this entire fic is because of y’all. thank you

Feel Some Sort Of Way

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Sir Angelo/Sir Marc, background Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Sir Marc, Sir Angelo, Talfryn, Dampierre, Sir Damien, Rilla, Lord Arum, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Mutual Pining, (mutual dumbasses), very mild angst, Fluff, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Crushes, (they're just....... so fucking ridiculous)

Summary: Traveling with Sir Angelo proves to be very confusing, for Sir Marc.

Notes: I've been working on this goddamn fic since July. They're soft, I'm soft, you're soft too probably. Let's be soft together dangit. Title from the song UWU by Chevy.

~

It can’t be intentional, Marc thinks. Must be near the hundredth time he’s thought it. It can’t be intentional, or the big guy would just say something, right?

“Here, friend Marc!” Angelo swings his arms up, draping the thick, heavy material of his cloak around Marc’s shoulders. He beams as Marc furrows his brow in confusion, squawking half a protest as Angelo’s hands lift the hood to pull it over his head, shielding Marc’s face from the driving rain.

“Wh- wha- why?”

“You looked cold up upon the delightful Dampierre, friend Marc,” Angelo says, his face open and sincere. “I find myself quite warm despite the rain, and so I imagined that you might benefit more from my cloak than I myself would.”

Marc reaches a hand up to grip the clasp of the cloak, intending to pull it off, but-

It is much warmer with the heavy, sturdy cloth around his shoulders like a hug, and… the cloth, strangely, smells like baking, sugary and friendly and sweet. How-

“That’s very kind of you, Sir Angelo,” Talfryn says, in that particular tone of voice that means he’s chastising Marc for being rude. Judging by the unwavering grin on the knight’s face, though, he isn’t bothered by that rudeness, so Marc doesn’t feel too awful about it either.

“Yeah,” he says instead, his thumb still brushing over the clasp of the cloak as Dampierre whickers softly beneath him. “Uh. Thanks, Angelo.”

~

It’s weird, traveling with Sir Angelo. It was different when it was the two pairs of men traveling sort-of together to find Rilla. Even after the Nymphs, when they reached enough of an understanding that they weren’t at each other’s throats anymore, it still felt like two different groups of people who just happened to have the same goal, who happened to be in a position to be watching each other’s backs. They weren’t really one collective group, at least not by the time that Dampierre lost a shoe and Marc had to fall behind.

This time, there’s less pressure on the whole thing. No one in deadly peril, no dire threat looming large over the Citadel. It’s as simple as the three of them taking the scenic route (as in, not by magical portal) to visit Sir Damien and Rilla and Scales.

Actually, in technicality, Sirs Angelo and Damien are supposed to be traveling to “assess the level of danger presented by the monstrous occupation of the area known as the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms,” but obviously, that’s… not exactly a real issue, even if it would be impossible to explain that to the Queen.

Marc wasn’t there when Rilla heard the assignment her fiance and friend were saddled with, but the way he understands it she wasted no time in grinning wide, grabbing Damien by the wrist, and sing-songing something about a month’s vacation, totally justified.

Apparently, since Angelo went all puppy-eyed at the prospect of not having his joined-at-the-hip best friend for the little trek, and he’s too damn dutiful to sit on his haunches for the few weeks it should take to pretend to walk to the swamp and back, Rilla had also suggested Marc and Tal as traveling companions before she and Damien slipped into her hut and then, uh, disappeared. And, despite some initial grumbling, Marc is actually kind of excited for the opportunity to get back to that swamp and maybe get another look at Scales’ cool self-defending castle, and for Tal to have the chance to do a little more exploring in the swamp proper.

What Marc is surprised by, though, is how much odder it is to spend time with Sir Angelo without the buffer of Sir Damien. Angelo seems… genuinely delighted to get to know Marc and Tal better, he’s a courteous and generous traveling companion, and he has this habit of just- catching Marc’s gaze and smiling.

Which shouldn’t be a big deal, Marc thinks. But it’s the way he smiles that concerns Marc. It’s this wide, slow-blooming sunflower grin, like remembering that Marc exists is enough to smack the knight full of joy. Which is totally bunk, because when most people remember that Marc is there, he usually gets more of a roll-the-eyes response.

Angelo smiles at Tal, too, which is nice, but Marc… Marc has this strange feeling that it’s different from the way Angelo smiles at him.

Anyway. It’s weird, and it makes Marc feel a little like his stomach is doing cartwheels, and it’s been distracting enough that Dampierre has needed to sputter at him to keep the both of them on the path more than once already.

He should be able to stop himself from staring when Angelo smiles. So far, though, the effort has proven to be a total pain in the ass.

~

It can’t be intentional. The knight is just nice to everyone.

The reason he keeps giving Marc more cookies than Tal (where does he keep getting cookies from?) is because he knows that Tal has less of a sweet tooth. He just- pays attention! That’s all!

Marc takes an aggressive sort of bite from a soft, sweet piece of shortbread, and he pretends that the delighted grin that Angelo shoots his way doesn’t make his face feel hot. Because, and Marc cannot stress this enough, it doesn’t mean anything.

~

Angelo gently strokes Dampierre’s neck, smiling in an awestruck sort of way as the horse snorts and then nudges his nose into Angelo’s other hand, snatching up the wild berries the knight has collected along the road today.

“Such a clever beast you have, friend Marc!” Angelo says with a wide smile, eyes sparkling, and Marc feels his heart do something swooping and strange.

“Y-yeah,” Marc says, and Angelo won’t notice that Marc is staring so long as he’s preoccupied with Dampierre, right? “Best horse in the whole damn world.”

“And lucky to have such a brave and caring partner in yourself, my friend!"

Nope. Angelo swings his eyes up towards Marc, warm and fond and to hell with this, actually. Marc presses his heels into Dampierre and the horse knows to skip forward a few steps, whickering softly and startling that look off of Angelo's face enough that Marc's fists can unclench.

"Got a mind of his own sometimes, though," Marc says casually, apologetically, and when he pats Dampierre’s neck Angelo smiles again, soft and understanding.

"As a good partner should!" he says. "I've been learning much, lately, about the benefits of consulting many perspectives rather than limiting oneself to the viewpoints one is familiar with-"

Angelo continues as he keeps pace with Dampierre's slow walk, and Marc listens. He listens, and Angelo’s smile gleams as bright as his armor, and Marc feels a little bit like he could do this forever, actually.

Which is ridiculous, because Angelo is like this with everyone, right? Marc swallows uncomfortably, tearing his eyes away from the knight. Angelo is just like this with everyone. He’s just trying to do exactly what he’s talking about- getting different perspectives. It’s not about Marc at all. He tears his eyes away from the knight again. He’s not treating Marc special. Of course he isn’t.

~

The cooking is a nice surprise.

Normally, Marc and Tal switch off cooking meals back and forth while they’re on the road, though usually it’s Tal that has to remind them to stop regularly to actually do any cooking instead of just gnawing on hardtack and jerky as they ride. Marc tends to get distracted, tends to focus more on whatever is right in front of him until his stomach is rumbling and he finally remembers that yeah, his body needs stuff like food and probably a quick nap or whatever. Tal’s a slightly better cook, though neither of them are really good at it. Marc can skin a rabbit caught along the way, can skewer some meat to roast over the fire, and Tal can usually find some edible greenery nearby to make the food suck slightly less, but it’s never enjoyable like a good hot meal in a tavern would be.

Traveling with Angelo, though, mealtime is a different story.

The guy seems to have a weirdly endless supply of treats, little candies and baked goods that he pulls from his pack and carefully unwraps and never hesitates to share, but beyond that he never seems to treat any meal as perfunctory. He can take whatever ingredients they have in their combined packs and make something that could actually be called dinner out of it. What would have just been slightly burnt skewers of rabbit and wild carrot in Marc and Tal’s hands turns into a surprisingly flavorful stew when Angelo gets ahold of it, when he gently asks if Talfryn would be so kind as to find him a few more edible roots, mushrooms, sprigs of herbs. Angelo carries little jars of seasoning blends in his pack with him, too, that he inevitably smiles when he opens. He has a habit of sniffing the top of the jar and then sneezing aside, because of the spice, obviously, but he always just grins wider as he adds a few pinches to the pot, filling the air around their campfire with a different sort of warmth than just woodsmoke.

He makes it feel- homey, honestly. Comfortable. Marc doesn’t know what to do with that feeling, but he’ll enjoy it while it lasts, at least.

Maybe when they’re done with this little trip, he’ll get up the nerve to ask the big guy if he can borrow one of those jars of spices. He can’t cook like Angelo can, obviously, but- it’d be a little something, anyway. To keep, when Angelo is gone again.

~

Briefly, madly, Marc thinks that maybe Angelo is more aware than he lets on. He thinks that maybe, maybe, Angelo is doing this on purpose. Being so nice and friendly and- all touchy-feely or whatever. To mess with him. To make Marc feel guilty about the way the four of them butted heads at first, or something.

But when Angelo offers to clean up after dinner (again) and Marc reacts with suspicion, Angelo seems so genuinely confused that Marc knows he isn't faking it. Angelo is… he's just that nice. Marc feels guilty enough about confusing the knight that he winds up doing half the cleanup with him anyway, resolutely ignoring every time their shoulders bump together.

~

Marc wakes when he feels hands upon him, but the touch is so gentle that the waking is too. He knows it isn’t Talfryn, because when Talfryn moves him to bed from whatever random spot he drops in, his brother always whines at him the whole time, and he does more pushing and shoving than this soft sort of…

It’s Angelo, obviously. It’s not like a monster would have crept into camp just to make sure Marc didn’t get a crick in his neck falling asleep somewhere stupid, and Marc has been hit by enough monsters to know that they usually don’t have big, strong, sword-calloused hands. And there’s no reason to make the big guy feel awkward about it, Marc reasons, so he keep his eyes closed and tries not to change his breathing as Angelo slowly shifts him to horizontal, and there’s a pillow waiting beneath his head before it hits the dirt, which is nice.

Angelo drapes blanket around his shoulders, and Marc usually thinks of the guy as clumsy but there’s nothing clumsy about the careful, gentle attention of his hands tucking the cloth around his shoulders.

Then, he feels those fingers feather-light on his face, brushing the hair that must’ve come loose from the tie at the back of his head away from his forehead, and-

There’s a strange sort of moment then. Angelo’s hand lingers, or Marc imagines that it does, and he feels something like a static charge, like anticipation.

But the moment breaks, and Angelo moves away. Marc is alone, then, still not warm enough beside the fire as he curls the blanket closer and tighter around his shoulders, and he tries to bury all the stupid wildfire confusion that burns through his idiot body whenever Angelo actually touches him. He tries to bury all of it, because Saints know that’s the only way he’s ever going to get back to sleep with the tingling echo of Angelo’s hand still lingering on his brow.

~

They rescue a young woman separated from her caravan of traders, lost in the jungle. They find her stuck in a monster-made snare that looks years old, half rotted through but still just solid enough to keep a hold on the lady. She’s grateful for the help, and even more grateful when Angelo lifts her up onto his own horse when they realize that the snare cut her ankle. Talfryn wraps the injury, but none of the three of them are physicians, exactly, and it’s probably better for her to be off of her feet until they find her companions again.

Sir Angelo is absurdly chivalrous throughout the whole thing. He leads the horse at an easy pace, asking the gal questions about her friends and attending to the answers with quiet attention, his expression diligent and serious, like a schoolboy trying to impress. All in all he acts a perfect knight and a perfect gentleman about it, while Marc and Tal follow behind until Marc kicks Dampierre forward enough to walk side-by-side with Angelo’s horse.

And yeah, Marc flirts a bit.

With the lady. Obviously.

Part of it is just habit. She’s pretty enough, with amber skin and soft grey eyes, but Marc doesn’t actually expect anything. He’s not even really trying, and when she scowls at him all he feels is a twinge of relief, because her irritation with him seems to be distracting her from how upset she was before, at least. Distracting her from the pain in her leg, too. He may not be a knight, yet, but he can still be at least a little bit useful, even if it’s only as a convenient annoyance. He says as much, and that finally startles a laugh out of her, and she rolls her eyes but she’s still smiling, which Marc counts as a win.

Angelo frowns, then, just slightly, and Marc’s hands tighten on his reigns though his own smirk doesn’t budge. Talfryn, behind them, frowns as well, but Marc pretends not to notice.

They have her safely back with her group in less than an hour, and Marc clenches his jaw far too hard when Sir Angelo oh-so-gently lowers the woman back down from the horse, the very goddamn picture of gallantry. Tal hisses at him, asks him what’s wrong with him, and Marc has to look aside, muttering something vague about Angelo glory-stealing the rescue. Which is stupid on multiple levels, but Marc doesn’t need to defend his position because the whole caravan of traders pull all three of them to join their group for the evening as thanks, offering dinner and the safety of other eyes and booze, and even music to entertain while they all sit together.

It’s comfortable, and warm, and a hell of a relief. And Marc barely enjoys a second of it, because he can’t stop the way his eyes keep drifting towards Angelo in the firelight. The woman they rescued sits beside the knight all evening, laughing and leaning too close, and Angelo smiles so damned kindly that it makes Marc want to just-

Nothing. It makes him want to nothing. Marc scowls at the fire and ignores Tal’s questioning look. Angelo is probably the nicest person that Marc has ever met. He deserves- he deserves for someone to laugh and lean too close around some safe and happy fire, while a pot of fragrant stew bubbles up towards done. Angelo deserves that, and he deserves to smile that kindly at someone smiling back.

And despite his reputation, Marc isn’t actually stupid enough to hope that he could be that someone.

~

Angelo likes to sing to himself as they ride.

His voice is a little scratchy, frequently off-key, often dips into the territory of too loud, and he has a habit of forgetting words and just sticking nonsense syllables or switching phrases around mid-line.

Marc can’t for the life of him understand why he finds it so comforting.

~

Angelo slices the wriggling, screeching vine monster in half with a clean, skillful slash, but the vines twine back together almost the same moment that his blade passes all the way through.

“Blast,” Angelo cries as the creature writhes around his blade, and dammit dammit dammit the thing is climbing up the hilt towards Angelo’s arm entirely too quickly, and Talfryn could maybe get the thing with his spear but chances are it would just reform again and they’d be risking stabbing Angelo’s arm at that point too-

“Throw the sword!” Marc shouts, and without a second of hesitation Angelo does, flicking his wrist and sending the blade in a spinning arc with the creature squealing along for the ride. Marc launches his newest modified net-bomb (now including a literal bomb) in the same direction, and the mass of the monster tangles wildly with the ropes of the net for only a half a second in midair before the entire mess ignites in a blaze of blue and white.

By the time the sword hits the ground, the monster and the net are both nothing but ash, dirtying the steel.

“We did it!” Talfryn cries.

“Of course we-”

Marc is interrupted as Angelo wraps his arms around him and lifts him into the air, beaming bright.

“A spectacular maneuver, friend Marc! Such quick thinking and strategy!”

Angelo squeezes him in a tight hug and Marc’s heart squeezes too, his body entirely too warm.

“Ah,” Marc manages in a strangled sort of voice, and Angelo doesn’t seem even remotely burdened by Marc’s weight.

“And such a skillful deployment of your invention, as well!” Angelo booms, and his beaming face is almost too close to focus on, and he still smells like cookies somehow, and either Marc is going completely insane or Angelo’s cheeks are flushed. Which is- almost certainly just from the strain of the fight, right?

Marc-

Marc panics.

“Put- hey! Put me down, will you?” he says, squirming against Angelo’s sturdy and gentle grip. “I didn’t say you could grab me up like a- like some sack of fruit or something, did I?”

Angelo’s grin disappears, and he blinks in confusion for a moment before he lowers Marc back to the ground, ducking his head.

“I… I apologize, friend Marc,” he says, chagrined. “I simply wanted to ho-” he pauses, purses his lips for a moment, and then continues, “I was caught up in the moment, I’m afraid. I did not mean to overstep.”

“Just-” Marc notices Talfryn shoot both of them a funny look as he retrieves Angelo’s sword from the dirt, carefully wrapping the hot metal in a cloth before he grabs the hilt. Marc looks away from his brother, and he keeps his gaze away from Angelo, too. “Just- don’t pick me up unless I ask you to, alright?”

“Of course,” Angelo says, his tone completely and totally abashed. “I am terribly sorry.”

“Stop-” Marc winces, then motions for Dampierre to come close enough that he can pull himself up into the saddle. “Stop apologizing already. It’s not- it’s not a big thing or anything, just-” he scrambles for words, pretending to readjust the straps of Dampierre’s saddle around his legs for longer than he really needs to. “Just don’t do it again unless I ask.”

Angelo purses his lips, probably to keep from apologizing again, and nods before he turns to Talfryn to take back his blade.

As soon as no one is looking at Marc again he sags in the saddle, biting his lip and feeling like the biggest idiot in the damn world.

Stupid battle high. Stupid touchy-feely knight. Stupid blinding smile.

Stupid beating heart, pounding hard against his stupid ribs as his stupid brain tries to puzzle out why those stupid strong arms aren’t still wrapped around him, warm and safe.

~

Angelo laughs at all of Marc’s more straightforward jokes. If they’re too complicated or layered the knight might get lost on the way to the punchline, but on the whole he actually seems to think that Marc is funny. And- every time he can make Angelo laugh, every time he can get him to give that big, energetic guffaw, it makes Marc’s stupid heart skip and thump like a rabbit in a trap.

He’s been telling a lot more jokes, lately. It makes Tal give him a look somewhere along the path from confused to frustrated almost every time, but it’s worth it.

At least he knows that Angelo doesn’t laugh like that for everyone.

~

Sir Angelo is asleep first tonight. The farther they get from the Citadel, the more dangerous the jungle is going to get, and since Angelo is gonna be taking second watch, he’s getting in his sleep early. So, it’s just Marc and Tal left sitting by the fire as the stars brighten one by one, and there isn’t anything besides Marc’s own self-control to keep him from saying something stupid.

So.

“Hey Tal,” Marc says, and he tries very hard to sound casual as he fiddles with the trigger on one of his net-bombs. “Do you think- do you think the big guy-” he bites his lip, tries a different question instead. “What d’you think of the big guy?”

“Sir Angelo?” Talfryn asks, and Marc nods. “I mean, he’s been okay to travel with, I guess. I think he’s been trying really hard, y’know? To be more considerate, to listen better and all that. And I think he appreciates that you’ve been acting nicer to him too.”

Marc flinches, dropping the mechanism in his hand. “Wh-what?”

Tal blinks. “You’ve been trying to be nicer to him, too, right?”

“Uh.” Marc flushes dark as his fingers scramble through the leafy jungle floor, trying to scrape up his device. Tal noticed? He’s been noticeably nicer to the knight? That’s- that doesn’t seem- “Ah, I guess so,” he stammers. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve been- have I been? I don’t think I’ve been acting weird.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t say that you’ve been acting weird, Marc,” Tal says, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I said you’ve been acting nice.”

“Nice.” His fingers finally brush across metal, and he snatches the mechanism back up. “To Angelo?”

“Who else?” Tal says, and then he laughs. “Seriously, Marc, I know we got off on a weird sort of foot and all, but I’m glad we’re at least getting along with him. This would’ve been a pretty rotten journey if you two were fighting the whole way.”

“Yeah,” Marc says. “Uh, yeah.” He jams the net bomb back into the bag with the rest of them.

“Marc…”

Marc perks up to hide the way he wants to flinch at the worried sort of tone in Tal’s voice. “Yeah Tal?”

“Is something… is something wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong?”

“Because,” Tal says, in a mostly-patient voice, “you are acting weird, now.”

“What? No I’m not-”

“Marc,” Tal half-whines, and Marc winces more visibly.

“It’s nothing, Tal,” Marc insists. “I just- I mean- he’s- I wasn’t expecting him to be so nice to m- to us, like this, y’know? It’s not like the knights have ever been… I figured this whole thing would just be us tolerating each other until we met up with Rilla and Scales and Damien, y’know?”

“So you’re acting weird… because Sir Angelo is being too nice?”

“Not- no,” Marc shakes his head. “Is it- is he just being nice? Or does he actually…”

“Does he actually what?”

“Like.” Marc’s words falter. “Does he actually like me? I mean-” he shakes his head quickly. “Does he actually like us, I mean.”

Talfryn frowns, tilting his head slightly in confusion. “It… it is Sir Angelo, Marc. Do you think he would fake something like that?”

“No.” Marc shakes his head, rubs the back of his neck. “Nah, it’s not that, he’s- he’s sincere and all, it’s just-”

“It’s just what?”

“I mean, he’s nice to everybody, Tal, he’s just- he’s just nice. And if he’s so enthusiastic about everything, how am I supposed to tell how he actually feels about me? How am I supposed to tell if this is just his normal nice or if- uh-”

Tal’s eyebrows are climbing towards his hair, his expression slipping towards incredulous.

“You…” Tal narrows his eyes. “You really care what he thinks about you, don’t you?”

“Wh- no I don’t.” Marc laughs, but it sounds strained even to his own ears. “That’s ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous. Don’t- don’t be ridiculous, Tal. I just- like to know where I stand with people.”

“Marc-”

“Usually I don’t have to dig too hard, y’know? If folks don’t like me I tend to get the picture pretty quick, even if I pretend not to. I just- wanna know what he’s thinking. That’s all.”

“Well…” Tal says, and he sounds nearly patient, “I think you just answered your own question, then.”

Marc blinks. “Come again?”

“You just said that you think he’s sincere, and Sir Angelo has been going out of his way to make sure that we’re comfortable with him, so don’t you think you should just, I dunno, try to take him at face value? He likes you enough to be nice to you. I think that’s enough, don’t you?”

It’s a decent point. Marc’s stomach still feels a bit like a butter churn in the hands of an enthusiastic kid, though.

“Yeah,” he says, looking at the fire instead of at his brother. The earnest concern on his face is just- a bit much to try to deal with. “Yeah. Thanks, Tal. You’re probably right.”

~

Dampierre keeps walking too close to Angelo’s horse, no matter how many times Marc scowls at him and tries to urge him forward or back or at least another foot to the side. The horse just flicks an ear, sputtering lightly and smugly sticking his nose in the air as Marc is left helplessly close to the knight, who only ever grins and either doesn’t notice the closeness, doesn’t care, or is just too damn polite to comment.

Makes it easier for Angelo to hand him his share of Angelo’s apparently endless supply of sweets as they ride, at least. Marc certainly isn’t complaining about that.

~

Once they actually cross the border into Arum’s territory, the swamp itself is surprisingly easy going. Marc suspects that it’s pulling punches these days, at least when it comes to humans who might be friends of the lizard lord’s paramours. It’s nice in that it means they get to relax a little bit more, but less-than-nice in that relaxing gives Marc way too much time to think. Thankfully, that doesn’t last too long. Apparently, this big swamp thing and slash or the bug-lizard’s big castle was keeping an eye out for them, because they’ve only been traipsing through the muddy mottled green for a few easy hours before there’s that wild song again, and a literal magic portal pulls itself out of the mud.

Rilla’s got her arms around Tal’s shoulders in a laughing hug before Marc even realizes that she’s bolted through, and Angelo is laughing too, a booming, ridiculous sort of guffaw as he and Sir Damien clasp hands for only a moment before Angelo decides that just isn’t good enough and he’s lifting Damien fully into the air, making him squawk and kick his legs and laugh as well, and Marc’s cheeks hurt from grinning already before Rilla is patting Dampierre’s nose and gripping his wrist and smirking up at him.

“You boys have a good trip?”

Marc shrugs, feigning good old fashioned nonchalance as he watches Angelo smile like the sun at his best rival. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I guess it was alright.”

~

Tal loves the Keep, once he gets past the initial anxiety about hanging around inside something sentient. Marc really thinks he should have predicted that, actually. It’s a big weird plant. Tal loves big weird plants. He can’t seem to stop talking about how cool it is, and Scales doesn’t seem to know what to do with that exactly, and he settles somewhere between obviously pleased and puffed up indignation, but even Marc can see that the lizard is… mellower, now. He still snarls and rolls his eyes and complains kind of nonstop, but with Rilla and Damien around, he just seems… happier?

Or, y’know, maybe that’s just in contrast, considering Marc really only hung out with the big lizard before when his house was getting marched on by a bunch of weird animals, so what the heck does he know?

Angelo seems delighted by the structure too, and Marc gets a little ego boost when the Keep greets him personally with a strange little vine-hug, apparently remembering him from his little siege sleepover with Scales, and Angelo blinks at him in surprise at their familiarity.

“What?” Marc says with a feckless sort of smile, patting one of the vines with a hand. “Big cool castle and I go way back.”

~

Marc can’t figure out if it’s difficult to sleep in the Keep because it’s the Keep (like, he’s literally sleeping inside of a giant plant monster, seriously), or if it’s just because he’s gotten too used to Angelo’s snoring.

Either way, Marc thinks as he rolls over for just about the hundredth time tonight, it’s too damn quiet and he can’t say he likes it.

He can’t sleep. He’s making himself miserable, and for what? For some big ridiculous grinning-

For some knight, he’s wallowing in insomnia. It’s completely stupid, and completely untenable. He can’t- Marc can’t-

The trip is over, he thinks suddenly. This little experimental excursion is over and done, right? There’s no reason to stick around anymore, is there? Ta da, the knights on their quest to lie to the queen are reunited, and Marc and Tal are free again to go do… whatever. Whatever they want, wherever they want, with no random tag-along knights making Marc’s stomach do hourly backflips with his stupid smile.

Marc rolls over again, stomach feeling sour.

In the morning he’ll talk to Tal, and then they’ll both say their goodbyes to Rilla, and then they’ll get the hell out of here.

No point in hanging around where he’s not needed, anyway.

~

“And then, brave friend Marc called out for me to throw the sword, and when I did as he advised, he most skillfully intercepted my blade with one of his clever net traps, and the beast and sword were both consumed by the most brilliant flame - friend Marc is forever improving his tools and traps, you see, he often works upon them as we ride, or while we sit around the fire before the day’s meal is ready - oh, and of course the creature was utterly destroyed, leaving the blade quite easily reclaimed, with not a one of us so much as suffering a scrape. It truly was an incredible fight, my friend, I wish you had been there to see-”

“I feel you have described the skirmish quite adeptly, Sir Angelo,” Damien says with a warm smile. “I feel as if I were there to see it, as I can picture it that well.”

“Oh.” Angelo gives a pleased little grin. “I appreciate the kind words, Sir Damien, though I know my storytelling is not nearly as deft or skillfully dramatic as yours.”

“The true heart of a story, my friend, lies in the enthusiasm of whomever tells it, regardless of the verbal decoration.” Damien lilts, and Angelo is pleased, so pleased and proud of how happy and how settled his best rival looks. “I can tell how thoroughly you have enjoyed your journey with the brothers, and I am delighted that you were not unhappy in my absence.”

“I had no reason to be unhappy!” Angelo cries. “I missed you, of course, my friend, but I did not feel lonely for a moment on the road. Friend Talfryn is a clever and kind man to travel with, and friend Marc-”

Angelo pauses.

Damien raises an eyebrow. “Did he give you some trouble, Sir Angelo?”

“Oh, Saints above, no! Of course not! Quite the opposite, in fact, he was- that is- the journey was quite enjoyable by his side. He- well, I cannot say that I have ever laughed quite so much upon a journey as when he and I rode beside each other.”

Damien looks at Angelo, his brow furrowing just slightly. “Is that so?”

“Quite!” Angelo says with a soft sort of smile. “And he is rather knowledgeable about a great many subjects! And he has a sense of justice befitting the greatest of knights! And his skill with the blade has improved even further since our first encounter of single combat, when already he was a skilled opponent, and he is brave and clever and he always smiles so grandly and- oh, well, I suppose that I have set to rambling again, haven’t I?”

Damien stares at his rival, as Angelo laughs at himself and shakes his head, his cheeks distinctly pink.

“Sir… Sir Angelo…”

Angelo blinks, resettling his attention on his comrade. “Yes, of course! I apologize, my mind was elsewhere for a moment, my friend.”

“It is… quite alright.” He pauses, and then turns more fully to face the other knight. “Now… Sir Angelo, you do know that I support you in all things, yes?” Damien starts.

Angelo grins, wide and boisterous, and slaps a hand on Damien’s shoulder. “Of course I do, my friend, and I support you in all things as well! I would not be your best rival if I did not, now, would I?”

“Er- right. Yes.” Damien winces, just a little, and reaches up to rub at his shoulder where Angelo slapped it. “Well. What I mean to say is-” he pauses, and takes a deep, steadying sort of breath. “You know that I am not particularly… fond of… Marc-”

“You aren’t? Why ever not, Sir Damien? He is not anything like we were told-”

“I know,” Damien says with a grimace. “I know, Sir Angelo, and I am still- adjusting to that knowledge. But- what I am trying to say is… whatever my feelings are, towards Marc, I want you to know that you…” he pauses to sigh, then places his hand on Angelo’s shoulder gently, giving his friend a small smile. “I want you to know that you have my full support and loyalty in whatever direction you happen to aim your romantic endeavors.”

“Romantic… endeavors?” Angelo furrows his brow, blinking curiously for a moment. “Sir Damien, I am not sure what you mean. What could my growing friendship with Marc have to do with the idea of ro- oh.” Angelo’s entire expression flickers out, like a candle beside a door that opened too fast. Then, dawning in his expression is obvious shock. “Oh. Oh! Oh my Saints, Sir Damien- oh goodness, but I think I may have developed romantic feelings for friend Marc!”

Damien blanches, his expression falling open in dismay. “Y- you mean to say that you didn’t- you didn’t- realize? You didn’t know?”

Angelo doesn’t seem to hear him.

“Oh, Saints, oh mercy, this- I will- I must-” he pauses. “What… Sir Damien, what- what do I do?”

“Wh-what do you mean, Sir Angelo?”

“I have never- that is to say- I do not believe I have ever felt-”

Angelo pauses again, fidgeting in place, and his expression is something close to a grimace, his eyes gone wide.

“Sir Angelo-”

“Is that what this feeling is, Sir Damien? This- this strange warmth, his smile, the way I- I wish to h-hold him.” Angelo squeezes his own arms around his chest, tense and uncertain. “What- Sir Damien, what is one supposed to do, when one feels this way?”

Damien stares at his rival for a long moment, mouth agape. “Sir Angelo, have you never… no, no, certainly you must have, we... I am certain that we have discussed romantic intent in the past. There have been fair maidens of which you have spoken quite fondly-”

“Of course,” Angelo says, but his eyes are still shocked and he shakes his head. “But- but that was merely- that is how knights speak, is it not? I was simply-”

“Oh,” Damien says, his heart pulling. “Oh, Angelo…”

“Sir Damien, you know everything there is to know about following one’s heart,” Angelo says, seizing Damien’s hand. “Upon this subject, certainly you are the expert to whom I may turn. What- what do I do?”

“Er-” Damien goes wide-eyed himself, then. “Well, er, does he- do you think that he feels-” Damien stops short as Angelo flinches. “Right,” he says. “Right, you are unsure. And- and the idea of simply asking- of course it is a frightening prospect. I understand that, of course, Angelo.” Damien ducks his head, thinking hard. “What- Angelo, what do you want to do? Do you wish to… to court him?” he asks uncertainly.

“I… Sir Damien, I don’t know. I don’t know what is- what is supposed to happen next. If he does not feel as I do- I am very fond of h-his company, I would not wish to- to cause him to dislike my presence if these feelings are unwelcome. And certainly- friend Marc is deft with words, and quite outspoken. If he had any such affection for me in return- surely he would have spoken so, would he not?”

Damien opens his mouth, then closes it again for a moment before he sighs deeply. “Marc is… I very much doubt that Marc would… treat you in a judging way for your feelings, even if he does not feel romantically towards you in kind. That is… that is not the way that he is.”

Angelo’s shoulders sag. “You are… probably correct, Sir Damien,” Angelo says. “But somehow that does not make me feel any more sure, or any less afraid.”

“Sir Angelo…” Damien’s expression flickers, his concern clear and open on his face. He steps closer, flinging his arms around Angelo’s shoulders in a fierce hug. “I meant what I said. You have my support, in whatever way you need it. And…” he pauses, pulling back and giving a wry sort of look. “I know you as I know myself, and I know you well enough to say that you are not the sort of man to shy away from a difficult situation. You are brave, Sir Angelo, and bright, and undeniable as the dawn. I know that you will face this, and whether or not Marc is smart enough to see how brightly you glow- I know that your light will not be doused, not by this, and not by anything.”

Angelo’s arms tighten around Damien in return, squeezing until Damien’s breathless laugh cuts off in a squeak. When he sets the other knight back on his feet, Damien gives him an earnest sort of smile, gripping his arms.

“I think you know what you must do now, my friend.”

Angelo pauses. “… Continue to act as a stalwart friend, but now with the knowledge of my own feelings more clear within me?” he suggests, and it is only partially a joke.

“Speak your heart, Sir Angelo,” Damien says gently. “If you speak your heart, you may learn what lies in his own, and then take whatever step is next with that knowledge. And I will be here for you, and I will dearly love you, regardless of that outcome.” Damien’s smile goes a little tearful, then, the force of his emotion overtaking him for a moment. “I wish you only happiness. If there is any possibility that Marc can make you happier- Sir Angelo, you must attempt to find out. It is worth some risk, is it not?”

Despite his fears, despite his confusion, Sir Angelo finds that he agrees.

~

It takes a bit of time to find him, but eventually Angelo catches Marc outside the Keep’s walls, waiting by the treeline with Dampierre’s saddlebags packed and full. Angelo’s heart flips, then, and sinks, and his stomach wraps in anxious knots, but still he steps towards the other man. Still, he moves forward.

“Friend Marc!”

Marc’s shoulders go stiff, and he turns slightly in the saddle to glance back towards Angelo.

“Heh… hey, big guy,” he says, and then he turns towards the swamp again, his hands fiddling with the straps around his legs. “Just barely caught me. Tal’s just grabbin’ a little more from inside, and then we’ll be off.”

“You are- leaving so soon, friend Marc?” Angelo’s heart flops over in his chest again, nerves and disappointment crashing together. “I thought that perhaps… rather, I was hoping we would all spend some time together, at least a meal eaten side by side before…”

“Nah, sorry, big guy. We’re just gonna skip to the part where we get out of your hair,” Marc says, his smile tight and flat. “Tal wants to get a better look at the swamp since we kind of skipped most of it with that portal, and it’s not like Scales wants us hanging around his castle any longer than we need to, anyway.”

“But you were simply going to- leave? Without a proper farewell?”

“Figured that we’d be seeing you again soon anyway, Angie.” Marc is decidedly not looking at Angelo, now. And his hands are fidgeting on Dampierre’s saddle, not doing anything but simply pressing awkwardly and picking at the seams in the leather. “And goodbyes are always too damn sappy for me.”

Angelo does not know what to say. If Marc wishes to leave- of course he should not stop him. Perhaps their time traveling together has worn on the other man, perhaps he has grown tired of Angelo’s presence. Angelo has been told, before, that he can be wearisome. Too loud, and possessed of too much intensity, and too clumsy in body and mind and word. Angelo looks up, and Marc is still looking away.

… but Sir Damien is right, and even if Marc is determined to take his leave… Sir Angelo still must say what he has come to say.

“Before you- before you leave, Marc.”

Marc tenses, oddly, when Angelo says his name, but he finally looks at him after that, his smirk firmly set and his eyes- careful. “Yeah, sure, what’s up?”

“I- I- Marc, I… I quite like you,” Angelo blurts, and his cheeks feel hot as embers.

Marc laughs, then, and the embers all go out. Angelo feels like he has been dipped in ice, now.

“Yeah, Angie, I know,” Marc says, his tone high and tight between chuckles. “We’re friends, big guy, you don’t have to point it out or anything.”

“No, no that isn’t-” Angelo stops, feeling too large, feeling utterly foolish. “R-right. Yes. Of course. My apologies, I am- I know that I can be-”

“You don’t have to-” Marc’s smirk cracks for a second, goes strange like a grimace, but he waves his hand in between them and it flickers back. “Don’t apologize, Angelo, I know you’re just- being nice. Being you.”

“Er- y-yes.” Angelo pauses. “No,” he corrects, wringing his hands awkwardly in front of himself. “To be perfectly honest, no. I am not simply being nice, friend Marc. I- I do not know how to…” he trails off, brow furrowing in deep concentration, and Marc looks distinctly nervous as Angelo comes closer, and Angelo automatically pats Dampierre’s nose, though he keeps his eyes set on Marc.

“Angie-”

“I am not the most… skillful, friend Marc, when it comes to expressing my thoughts and feelings clearly. Or- or even in properly understanding them, at times. And I am- I am well aware that the feelings I have only very recently recognized may not be- returned, but I feel that it would be both cowardly and dishonest if I did not at least attempt to explain myself to you before you- before you leave.”

“Angelo, bud, you’re not getting all serious on me, are you?” Marc says lightly, but there is clear panic in his eyes.

“I intend to be precisely as serious as the situation and my feelings dictate. I apologize, also, if that is uncomfortable for you, friend Marc, but I am determined to say what I must.”

Marc fidgets in the saddle, his shoulders tense and his lips curved into a shape that isn’t really a smirk and isn’t really a frown either, and Angelo is a little bit overwhelmed by the understanding he feels. At last, he recognizes how very often his mind is preoccupied with the lines of Marc’s face, with the very casual sort of beauty that hangs upon him. How had he not noticed?

“Ah…,” Marc says, “I mean- if you’ve gotta get something off your chest I’m not gonna stop ya, Angelo.”

“Thank you,” Angelo says, and then he realizes that he is going to have to continue speaking, now that he has convinced Marc to hear him out. And- he had been laboring under the impression that I quite like you was going to be sufficient to reveal his feelings, so he had not planned well beyond that. His words are- he is not skillful in expressing himself, not compared to someone as poetic as his best rival or someone as quick and clever as Marc, so how can he show how he feels?

Angelo summons up from his reserve of courage and reaches out, and Marc’s eyes go wide when he settles his palm over Marc’s wrist, his thumb brushing against the skin there. “I think, perhaps, that you misunderstood the nature of my- my words. When I say, Marc, that I- that I like you, what I mean is- well-”

He hazards a glance upward, and Marc is staring at him, eyes still wide and cheeks flushing dark and something like-

Something like hope in his expression. Hope looks like a flare of sparks, on Sir Marc.

Angelo very gently shifts his grip, watching Marc watch him as he takes the other man’s hand. Marc’s fingers flex, his breath escaping in a very small ha, and then Angelo lifts his hand, calloused and scattered with scars and exactly as lovely as Angelo imagined. He lifts Marc’s hand, and brushes his lips over Marc’s knuckles in a kiss.

Angelo’s cheeks are hot, and his heart is warm, and when he raises his eyes again Marc is still staring down at him, and all he looks is stunned.

“A-Angelo,” he says, but he does not say anything more past that, and Sir Angelo is afraid, yes, of being mocked, of losing the camaraderie that he and Marc have eased into together- but his fear is not useful. Even if the worst potential outcome is realized, honesty is more befitting of a knight by far, and more befitting of Angelo himself, as well.

“I understand, of course, if you seek my company in the bonds of friendship and nothing else,” Angelo says, “I expect nothing from you. I only wish to be honest.”

And now that he has been honest, he knows he should not linger. If nothing else, Marc clearly requires time to- to overcome his surprise. He releases his grip on Marc’s fingers-

Marc, however, does not release his grip on Angelo’s.

“You-” Marc pauses, his throat working as he swallows. “Hang on. Angelo. You- like me? Like- kissing, like? Like you want to- to- with me?”

The idea of actually kissing Marc seems- distant, like a fable. A fable that makes his cheeks heat again instantly.

“Y-yes, yes indeed.” Angelo swallows roughly, dropping his eyes. “I apologize if- if this shall be a source of discomfort, between us. I value your friendship quite highly, Marc, and I do not wish to-”

Marc pulls on Angelo’s hand, and Angelo is surprised enough that he stumbles a step closer to Dampierre, blinking up at the strange new determination in Marc’s expression.

“Hey, catch me?” Marc asks, squeezing his fingers as his free hand quickly undoes the straps around his legs.

“Um. Yes?” Angelo nods, though he is quite confused by the suddenness of this turn. “Of course. If that is what you would like-” he lifts his arms, and then Marc is swinging himself out of the saddle, landing sideways in Angelo’s grasp with one of his arms slung around Angelo’s shoulder, and Marc’s face is very close, then. Very close, and his cheeks seem darker than usual beneath the scattering of his freckles.

“Angelo,” Marc says, breathless, and Angelo realizes that he quite likes the way that his own name sounds, in Marc’s voice. He quite likes Marc’s weight in his arms, as well.

“Marc,” he says in response, because he is still not sure what Marc intends, exactly, and he finds it is often most helpful to take his cues from those around him.

Marc’s hand is on Angelo’s cheek, then, his rough fingers only gentle, now, and that is already so very stunning that it takes Angelo a stuttered heartbeat to realize that Marc is leaning closer, leaning up, the hand on his cheek carefully angling his face towards Marc.

And then Marc is kissing him.

Kissing him.

His hand slips from Angelo’s cheek to his hair, tangling there and pulling him just a little bit closer, and the press of Marc’s lips is warm and tingling and wonderful and Angelo was right, before. Kissing Marc is like a fable. Like something out of a soft, safe dream.

Marc pulls back, eventually, and Angelo blinks his eyes back open, though he does not remember closing them.

“I, uh,” Marc pauses to clear his throat, and his crooked smile looks shy, of all things. “I like you too, Angelo.”

“Oh,” Angelo says, stunned past other words for a long moment. “Oh. Truly? You- truly you do?”

Marc laughs then, knocking their foreheads together. “Saints, Angelo, yeah! Obviously! The kiss wasn’t enough of a clue for ya?”

Angelo feels his cheeks heat. “I- I don’t- I’m sorry, friend Marc, I am very- unpracticed in-”

“Hey.” Marc leans up again, pressing their lips together quick and soft. “Relax, Angie, you’re fine, we’re fine. I don’t- I just can’t believe you actually- I can’t believe you like me too.”

“I,” Angelo pauses to laugh as well, something warm and bright bubbling up in his chest. “Yes. I feel precisely the same.”

Marc grins, squeezing the arm still wrapped around Angelo’s shoulder, and as Marc is leaning forward for another kiss, they both hear footsteps.

“Marc, I couldn’t find your bedroll. Are you sure you didn’t already... pack… it?”

Angelo glances to the side, where Talfryn is standing and staring, his pack slung around his shoulder and his horse following behind him.

“Suh, uh, yeah, sorry Tal,” Marc says. His voice is bright and flustered, but he makes no move to remove himself from Angelo’s steady grasp as they turn to address his brother. “I think we’re actually gonna- maybe stick around another night or so before we- y’know.”

“O-oh?” Tal says, his eyes flicking back and forth between the pair of them, dawning with slow realization. “Uh. Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Marc says. “I think- I think me and the big guy here have some stuff we gotta talk through together before we go running off again.” Marc looks up into Angelo’s eyes, smiling a lopsided, eager smile, and Angelo feels like he could sing. “Does that sound good, Angelo?”

“Yes,” Angelo says, holding Marc close and warm in his arms, and he feels just brave enough to press a kiss to Marc’s freckled cheek, smiling automatically when that causes Marc to stutter out a laugh. “In fact, I think that sounds absolutely perfect.”

[longhornhudson]

And Baby Makes Four || HudroseBerry

Who: Marley, Finn, and Rachel @longhornmarley @longhornrachel

Where: Marley and Rachel’s room

When: April 21st, 2020

Notes: The expecting parents decide to tell their best friend and girlfriend that they’re pregnant. It goes about like you would expect... 

Marley

Marley went over everything like she was hosting a party or something. Comfort foods from all over the place were present and appearing on the table in the common area her and Rachel shared. Chinese, pizza, mac and cheese, and all sorts of desserts were there and she checked over and over to see if there was anything else anyone could possibly want between the three, or maybe four, of them. As she was craving them, Marley kept going after the curly fries she got from Arby's. She had to get extra just in case someone else wanted some, but her own stash was almost gone. Maybe it was more a stress eating thing then pregnancy cravings, but she couldn't tell the difference anymore. She just knew she was hungry and wanted this right now. She was ready for this. Not in the slightest. However, she knew it had to be done. Rachel needed to know about the baby and she was really glad Finn was coming over to help tell her. After all, it was going to be part of all their lives; at least if Rachel was okay with it. She didn't want to think about the possibility of not only a relationship but a friendship ending tonight. That couldn't be the case. It had to go good, right? Babies were a good thing, after all. Or were supposed to be. She finally decided everything was good. They had enough. They probably had enough to feed the entire dorm, actually. So she sat down and waited for anyone to show up first. She was kind of hoping for Finn to arrive before Rachel so she wouldn't have to come up with a distraction on her own until he did show up. But she would if she had to. It wouldn't be for too long, she hoped, and then this would be out to the only person left she needed to be in the know.

Finn

There was nothing that Finn could do to prepare himself for tonight. If it had been up to him, he would have stayed hidden under blankets and avoided everyone and everything for the foreseeable future. He hadn't gone to classes in two days and he honestly didn't care. He wouldn't have been able to concentrate anyway. All he would have been able to think about was Marley and their baby. It still sounded weird to say and he wasn't sure he would ever get used to it. Still, the concept of being a father didn't scare him, it was a goal he had always wanted. What scared him is knowing he wouldn't be a good one. At least not at this age. He shook his head, shoving his hands in the pocket of his hoodie as he made his way to Marley and Rachel's room. He had no idea what to expect from his girlfriend. They hadn't even been dating that long and get Finn feared the worst. Most women didn't want to date someone with a child already so her finding out he had one on the way might be too much for her. Even though they hadn't done anything wrong, they were still of course carrying guilt that would never go away. He was so scared of not being enough for her..  he was scared of not being good enough for Marley, but mostly he was scared that one day he'd wake up and change his mind. He rubbed his temples, the sun's rays hitting him right at eye level as he walked towards the now familiar dorm. He hoped Rachel wasn't there already... it was already going to be awkward but walking in to a dinner where he wasn't invited would have been even worse. Finally after what felt like a lifetime, he arrived and after being let in, he hurriedly made his way up, the smell of food filling his nostrils immediately. "Dang Marley, did you buy the whole menu?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood while they waited for Rachel.

Rachel

Rachel Berry had never been what anyone would call lucky in love. When she was younger she had been overbearing and intense and it had pushed the boys who had known her growing up away. She had only ever kissed one boy, who turned out to be a spy for a rival show choir who used it as a way to try to crush her. And the girls in school never let her live it down, even voting her most likely to die alone in the yearbook. Rachel was used to being alone. But then she had come to UT and had finally found her footing. She had made friends, was the unofficial head of the glee club and was finally finding herself as a woman. She had been so lucky to find Marley through a mutual friend and the Glee club and she and the brunette had become best friends, Rachel considering the girl as if she was her sister. And now, she had found Finn. Of course they had known each other for a while but he had always been in some weird will they or won’t they kind of relationship with Quinn (another friend) and even though she thought he was exactly everything she could ever want, she wasn’t that kind of girl. No one picked her over the Quinn’s and Marley’s of the world. But then Finn had. He had kissed her on the playground, he had asked her to the faire, he had asked her to be his girlfriend.  Somehow, she had gone from the girl with nothing but her voice to keep her company to the girl with such a wonderful group of people surrounding her. She was incredibly happy. Happier then she knew was possible. But things hadn’t been the same since the weekend. Marley hadn’t been home, even though she had said she wanted to talk. Finn had cancelled his own date on her and Mercedes was posting about being his Queen and the insecure little girl who had watched as all the other girls got to play dress up and go to dances with the boys was back and Rachel was scared. What if she was someone who wasn’t meant to be happy? What if her voice (which was leaving too) was all she was allowed to have?(edited)

Rachel sighed and got out of her car, having just been in the campus gym, running the track and singing her parts for competition. She needed to win. She needed to be the best. At something. Anything. She let herself into her dorm room. “Can I grab a shower before we...” she gasped softly as she saw the spread, but also Marley and Finn. “Finn...” her hand flew up to her hair nervously. “Hi...” she murmured, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek (that’s what girlfriends did right?). “I wasn’t expecting you...But I’m so happy to see you! To see both of you!” She said smiling over at Marley. “My absolute two favorite people in the world here...”she looked between them. “Hi...I’m gonna shut up now...”

Marley

Marley nearly jumped to the ceiling when she heard the ring for someone to come up. She knew it had to be Finn since Rachel obviously would just come on up. She let him in and unlocked her door before going back to her place on the couch with her fries. The glorious fries that now needed some ranch. She grabbed some from the table and started dipping them as Finn walked in and commented on all the food. "Too much? I wanted to cover the bases and then I kinda started getting cravings..." She bit her lip. "Come join me so I don't feel weird. Please." She begged just as the door opened again and Rachel came in. Marley stood up for some reason and put her food down while she watched Rachel kiss Finn's cheek. "Hey, Rach." Marley said with a forced smile and looked over at Finn. "I invited him. I hope it's okay." She bit her lip. "And I got food. We can get more if you want something else. On me. Whatever you want. Maybe more curly fries?" She said rather quickly before covering her mouth. "I guess I should, um, shut up too, right?" She looked at the ground before she sat back on the couch. How did they do this? Do they jump right in? Should she start or Finn? They really didn't discuss this part. She just picked back up her fries and took a bite of one to keep her mouth shut. She just wanted this to be over with. Her eyes met Finn's and then she looked at Rachel. Her friend. Her sister. This was definitely a mess.

Finn

"Not at all. I think food is a perfect buffer for explaining to your best friend and my girlfriend that her two favorite people are having a baby together." He said, walking over to the food and grabbing a few things. He still hadn't quite come to terms with it, and with Regionals coming up, breaking this news to Rachel didn't seem ideal but he agreed that she needed to be told by the two people it involved rather than hearing it from a rumor. It wasn't the end of the world, a baby was a blessing, but not when you were dating someone and not financially able. But like he promised Marley, he was going to be there and support his child anyway he could. He was about to say something else to her when the door opened again and Rachel walked in. Seeing her face full of happiness and a bounce in her step gutted him because it wasn't going to be there by the time this day was over. He leaned in to her quick kiss and smiled, looking over at Marley before focusing back on his girlfriend. Her rambling was cute and it made Finn forget for a moment why they were there. But soon enough, the room was quiet and he knew that it was up to him to break the ice. But what was he going to do? What could he say? 'Funny story Rachel. Marley and I are going to be parents. Yay!' He knew just blurting it out wasn't the best so he just sat down next to Rachel and grabbed her hand. "Marley and I.. we have something we need to tell you."

Rachel

Rachel looked at Finn and then over at Marley before back at Finn again. Hadn’t this been her fear before he had even asked her out? What boy would ever pick her over Marley? God she wouldn’t even pick her over Marley. She bit her lip and stepped away from them, grabbing a hair tie off her wrist she pulled her hair up into a messy bun, trying to do her best not to look at them, if she did she just might cry. “Oh...I totally understand...I mean you guys are great and you’ll be so great together...I mean you’re like picture perfect...” she rambled wishing her mouth would catch up with her brain and shut up.

Marley

At least that could be the reason for all the food. A good buffer. She just kept bringing fries to her mouth like they were her life support. Part of her wondered if she was going to have cravings like this all pregnancy. That thought was gone with the new one of telling her best friend the news. Marley's eyes went to Finn as he started talking and then to Rachel when she started rambling again. Her heart was breaking and she shook her head wildly. "Rach, no. That's not it. I could never do that to you. Besides, he's my friend." She assured her, but didn't reach out like she wanted to. She just wanted to say it. Should she be the one to say it? Just come out with it already? It was going to be out there anyways at any moment so why not? "Please just, don't be upset, okay?" She asked and her eyes moved to the floor. "I... I'm pregnant."

Finn

Hearing Rachel assume that he and Marley were going to be together, it would have made him laugh if the situation hadn't been so serious. He bit the inside of his lip, preparing to speak up when Marley started speaking herself. He listened, ready to jump in if she needed him too, a look of sadness on her face. He felt awful for the whole thing, not sure if the trio would ever truly get back to where they were before all this and it sucked. He liked Marley, he liked Rachel, and yet he couldn't stop feeling disgusted that this whole conversation had to happen. When Marley finished speaking, he cleared his throat, ready to expand things further. "It was during Spring Break. I had made plans to go to the beach with Quinn but she canceled on me and I was upset so I went to a party but I didn't want to be there so I left and met Marley, who was also having a bad day so I invited her back to my place to have a pity party. I didn't plan to sleep with her but we got drunk and..." He trailed off, averting his eyes to Marley and then to the floor. "I'm so sorry, Rachel."

Rachel

In a weird way, she was relieved that it was a baby. Until she realized what a baby meant. There went her and Finn having any kind of future. Why would he want to be with her when he could be with Marley and his child? Their child. Oh god, they were going to be a family. A mom, a Dad and a kid and she would be in the interloper she had always been. Tears burned her eyes and she blinked, a few spilling over her lash line. “No need to explain...you...you don’t owe me...I have to go...I forgot my gym bag and I need something out of it...Congratulations. Your kid is going to be...wow...so beautiful and talented and I um...ye...yea...”she said grabbing the door handle and turning it. She turned over her shoulder to look at the two. “Congratulations...seriously...” she muttered through a small sob before leaving.

Marley

Marley felt sick to her stomach now. The whole thing was making her nerves jump and she put the fries down. No amount of food would help this right now. She listened to Finn as he started to explained and met his eyes. This was all so much to handle for all of them. "I didn't know I was... That's why I was upset Friday and..." She stopped as Rachel started talking. She saw the tears and her own built up and she stood to try to stop her. "Rachel, please. Stay." She begged before the girl walked out the door and she stood there in shock. She had no idea what to do. This wasn't how she wanted it to go. Or even though it would be how it would go.

Finn

"But we do. Its not just our lives that are going to change, Rach. I mean, yours is too. Not directly but..." He trailed off when she started backing towards the door, not listening to his words. He stood up, ready to stop her from leaving... but he didn't. Before he had time to think she was gone and Finn stood there dumbfounded as he tried to think of what to do. If he chased after her, it could lead to people finding out before they were ready but if didn't chase after her, it might lead to his relationship ending... He ran a hand through his hair before kicking the stool next to him. "Shit!" He yelled, shaking his head. "I knew she wouldn't take it well but I... she hates us." He said, looking back at Marley.

Marley

She wasn't sure what to do. She felt completely horrible. She stared at Finn and sat down before just looking at the floor. "I'm sorry, Finn. I.. I didn't think..." She really didn't know what to say, but she wanted to cry. She felt like that's all she had been doing lately. She closed her eyes tight and tried to keep herself together.

Finn

"Hey no this isn't your fault okay? We knew that this could have gone badly and the way I see it, nobody got slapped. She didn't say she hated us so maybe that's a good thing? She just needs time to process this. Her sister and boyfriend are having a baby together. That's not easy to deal with. Let's just give her space." He said, his eyes looking towards the door. As much as he knew he should chase after her, Marley needed him more.

Marley

Marley nodded and she looked up at him. She really hated that any of this was happening. She wished there was someway she could've protected everyone here. "Right. Space." She sighed and wiped her cheeks as small tears ran down them. There was so much she wanted to say, tell him to go after her or that she was still sorry for all this, but she just stayed quiet while she sat there on the couch.