#literally got made fun of for how i speak spanish this past week at work LOL

[murcielagatito]

introduction from las mas bellas poesías de puerto rico

trans:

The cultural literary movement developed in Puerto Rico, much later than in most Hispanic American colonies or republics. The lack of a university, isolation, illiteracy, literary censorship and the lack of freedom of thought that the regime allowed; were the main causes of the literary delay in Puerto Rico.

end trans

[formula-what]

Brocedes time line for a very patient anon

Lewis quotes in orange, Nico quotes in pink, everyone else is blue.

okay first some background knowledge:

Nico is rich as fuck. only child, born in Germany, brought up in Monaco. son of world champion Keke Rosberg

Lewis was born on a council estate in Stevenage and his dad had to work multiple jobs for him to start karting

Honestly I think the difference in their backgrounds is one of the things that pushed them together, they were both isolated from the rest of the kids, but I’m keeping this purely facts rather than speculation.

2000

They’re both 15 years old and are karting teammates for MBB (Mercedes Benz McLaren) in Formula A

Robert Kubica: “there was always competition. But they didn’t fight. It was friendly competition. There was always laughing afterwards.” // “they would even have races to eat pizza”

They often shared hotel rooms at the races which was a “scene of many wrestling matches between them”

Dino Chiesa (their karting boss) – “many times I was called by reception about some problem in the room. It might be noise, or they might have broken something. They would never sleep so they were always tired the next morning”

“they both liked ice cream so much, particularly vanilla. During the night they wanted to eat ice cream always, so I had to go out everywhere to find some and keep them happy”

Lewis would often persuade Nico to buy him sweets

They would have competitions over LITERALLY EVERYTHING

Lewis: “we always had great competition whether on the racetrack or computer games or playing football”

“probably the first bit of competition we had was when Nico used to ride a unicycle everywhere so I thought, ‘I’ve got to learn how to ride this unicycle. Ive got to be better than him.’ I spent all my time outside the go-kart learning to ride this unicycle”

Apparently it only took Lewis 2 hours to teach himself how to do it

In maybe 2013 ish (when they were still friends) Lewis reflected with– “I have never laughed so much than when we were racing together. Nico was kicking everyone’s butt at that time. We had so great races together and built a great relationship”

“we were just arriving and enjoying go-karts and eating pizzas every weekend, fighting all the time and just having fun, whereas now it’s all business.”

many times they would talk about what they would do when they got to f1, made plans hoping to be teammates and become world champions together.

“Nico would say ‘when I’m in formula one’ and for me it was always ‘if I ever get to formula one’. Because obviously Nico’s dad was a formula 1 driver- he knew he was going to make it.”

F1

Nico joined f1 in 2006 with williams, Lewis 2007 with McLaren. And man I WISH I knew what went down with this two when Lewis nearly one his rookie season (missing out by one point to mr fernando alonso) and then WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP in his SECOND SEASON (again by one point thank you mr alonso)

2008 Australia

Nicos gets his first podium, and ofc Lewis is there (he won it) and they are jumping around in the cool down room. Just, two kids who are literally living the one thing they have spent their whole lives dreaming about together. Lewis won the championship that year and oh wow I can only imagine their celebrations together.

2013

They’re teammates in Mercedes!!!

Nico: “every other day there are moments or things that pop up and I can smirk and thing, ‘that’s exactly the same as it was 15 years ago’”

2013 Malaysian Grand Prix gets an honourable mention. This is the race with red bulls good old multi 21 but merc also had their own team orders, stopping nico from fighting for his first merc podium, but Lewis disagreed with it so it didn’t really spark that much tension between them- more the team.

2014

the start of the turbo-hybrid era so y’all know this was good in terms of performance.

2014 Bahrain Grand Prix

They were both fighting for the win and had a collision which prompted a “mock fight” in parc ferme after the race (which I really hope there’s a video of).

Turns out, Nico won because he had used engine modes banned by Mercedes to get a power advantage in the closing laps. which kinda pissed Lewis off

2014 Spanish Grand Prix

Lewis’ fourth win in a row and took lead in the championship. They were fighting till literally the last second and Lewis crossed the line 0.6 seconds ahead of Nico, who says he could have passed him with one more lap.

Lewis defended using the same banned engine modes that Nico had used in Bahrain. Yeah.

2014 Monaco Grand Prix

This is IT. This is peak petty bitch. This is the one people still cry about.

It’s the end of Q3, both of them are out on a lap, Nico ahead of lewis. Nico’s already on provisional pole but Lewis is pretty close.

And then,, Nico just,, parks his car?? He says he made a mistake but the guy doesn’t even crash he straight up just,, rolls to a stop into a slip road. So the yellow flags come out forcing Lewis to abort a lap that was in the makings of pole.

The stewards say it was a-okay but Lewis was convinced it was intentional (and let’s be honest, yeah it probably was) and he even claimed that merc’s data proved it. (low key surprised he didn’t just tweet out the telemetry but I guess he got a stern telling off from mclaren last time)

But *this* is when Lewis tells the world that they aren’t friends anymore. An iconic interview.

Nico then wins the race too, ending Lewis’s four win streak and putting Nico in the lead of the championship.

2014 Hungarian Grand Prix

Lewis has an engine failure in quali meaning he starts from the pit lane, but he does good to make his way up the pack but THEN there’s a safety car which puts him ahead of Nico but on a different strategy.

Nico asks if Lewis can let him past as he needs to pit again before the end of the race, which will give him the place back anyways. Lewis straight up refuses, he’s on a role here. He started from last, and Nico started from pole, why should he slow down to let his title rival through.

Mercedes strongly suggest that his blocking fucked up Nicos race but Niki Lauda is on Lewis’ side so he doesn’t get punished (We stan a supportive father figure) even though he did blatantly refuse to be a team player.

And guys, this is the last race before the summer break so you know Nico was left seething for four weeks.

2014 Belgian Grand Prix

Second lap, Nico attempts a clumsy move and there’s contact, giving Hamilton a puncture and knocking him out of the race.

There’s a lot of controversy but basically it turns out he crashed with him intentionally, not backing out of the corner to “prove a point”. Nico ended up finishing second but was punished by the team, forced to apologise, and even booed on the podium.

2014 Abu Dhabi

For some reason it ran for double points?? The first time in History??? But idk???

Lewis had a perfect start and went on to win it and take the title, Nico had a problem and was told to retire the car but he kept going anyway and finished 14th. Nico went into the cool down room to congratulate Lewis on the championship win, which. cute.

Lewis claimed his second championship. Which not only was huge because of the inter team rivalry, but also because of the large gap between his first win. This guy had lost out on winning the championship in his ROOKIE season by ONE POINT, and then WON it in his SECOND season, and then there was like a FIVE YEAR gap before he won it again.

2015

Damnnn this car was fiiiinneeeeeee.

They do more laps in testing than any other car AND do it on a single power unit. And then. Australia. They take a one-two THIRTY FOUR seconds ahead of the third place Ferrari.

2015 Chinese Grand Prix

Nico is second in a one-two but claims that Lewis kept backing him up into Seb, trying to compromise his race (and help out his boyfriend).

Lewis gave zero shits: "It's not my job to look after Nico's race, it's my job to manage the car and bring the car home as healthy and as fast as possible. That's what I did."

2015 U.S. Grand Prix

If Lewis wins here he could also claim the title with three races to spare (you have to remember back then the title fight often went up to the last race so this was pretty cool)

Lewis very aggressively forced Rosberg wide at Turn 1 to claim the lead, and then there was some sexy fighting between the Mercs and Redbull all race. Nico led in the closing stages but made a mistake, running deep into a corner and letting Lewis past with only a handful of laps to go.

Nico finished P2 and had not only lost the race but the championship title. Nico was fuming, saying Lewis’ move at the start was “one step too far”.

This is the infamous cap throw in the cool down room. Lewis throws Nico his P2 hat, Nico straight up yeets it back at him. I tear up just thinking about it. They grow up so fast.

2016

Nico had came so close to winning and I guess this was just, the last straw. All or nothing. This year he literally gave it everything he had. Lewis and him stopped speaking, Nico gave up literally the rest of his life and even stopped sleeping in the same bed as his wife and taking care of his kids, instead spending every moment trying to get into Lewis’ head. Honestly, I think he might be the only one that could beat Lewis. Just because he knew him *so well*. He literally threw away like 16 years of friendship. But also it’s like, he had to be world champion. He *had to*. His dad was champion and his whole life he’s been preparing to win it too. Tough luck that he raced in the same era as Mr. Best Driver The Sport Has Ever Seen.

Nico won the last few races of 2015, and the first four races of 2016. Lewis had a couple car problems and Nico had a good lead on him in the championship.

2016 Spanish Grand Prix

Gentlemen. A short view back to the past. Nico had made a switch error on the formation lap causing the car to go into the wrong engine mode. So he was running a lot slower than Lewis, who was fighting to claim back the lead.

Nico closed the door to keep him back, and Lewis lost control on the grass, and spins into Nico and taking them both out of the race in the first lap. This is probably one of the most iconic crashes. I’m pretty sure there’s a clip of this somewhere in black and white with the titanic music over the top.

Niki Lauda blamed this one on Lewis (I guess even a supportive dad has to be critical sometimes) "Lewis is too aggressive. It is stupid, we could've won this race".

2016 Austrian Grand Prix

Nico had been struggling with a brake issue all race but was still on the way to win it. But in the last lap Lewis had caught him up and gone in for the overtake.

Typical Nico not taking any shit, refusing to be the guy that backs out and they collide. Lewis took the win and a damaged Nico dropped to fourth. From first. In the last lap.

Both of them blamed each other and tired dad team boss Toto Wolff threatened team orders in future races.

The stewards blamed Nico for the incident, issuing him two penalty points for failing to allow "racing room" and causing a collision.

2016 Abu Dhabi

In the final laps of the race, Lewis ignored team-orders from his race engineer and the technical director.

He deliberately slowed and backed Nico into the pack hoping they overtake him, and there would be enough of a points difference to win the title.

Nico finished second and won the title by five points.

And then,,, Nico announced a surprise retirement during the FIA prize giving ceremony.

Lewis’ response:

"This is the first time he's won in 18 years, hence why it was not a surprise that he decided to stop.” (We stan a petty king)

“But he's also got a family to focus on and probably wants to have more children. Formula One takes up so much of your time."

“In terms of missing the rivalry, of course because we started karting when we were 13 and we would always talk about being champions. When I joined this team, Nico was there, which was something we spoke about when we were kids. So it's going to be very, very strange, and, for sure, it will be sad to not have him in the team next year."

And now they are kind of on speaking terms but not really, they are both pretty private but I think they are at the ‘awkward small talk when we run into each other at the supermarket’ stage of the break up.

[amaya-chwan]

Therapy Game Restart Discussion: Who is Onodera?

Hello everyone! Hope you are all well~ ❤️💛💜 I've had a headscratcher of an ask/message regarding Onodera, so I figured I'll make it into one big post!

Before I begin this Q&A/discussion post (feel free to comment below if you have any thoughts), I have looked through past chapters to gather the information I will put into this post to support my predictions. Not all chapters are readily available for everyone at the moment as only one volume of TGR is out right now, so I shall put the chapter numbers for your future reference! ⚠️ Also, just a note! These opinions are my personal thoughts, conjectures, and opinions, so please don't think I am saying one idea or speculation is wrong--this is just how I see it, and of course I could very well be wrong! And I also am not fluent in Japanese, so I may have some translation errors!

⚠️ Also, a warning, this will be a long post! Keep reading if you're interested and please let me know your own thoughts!

First, in an earlier ask, I was directed to a translation group that said Onodera is a man. With the help of Google and Google Translate (because I don't understand/speak Spanish), I found that post (dated April this year) and the origin of the picture they used in that post. The image is from Hinohara-sensei's 13th August 2020 tweet here and is also below for reference:

Now, all I can remember from first seeing that image is "Woow, so pretty! A female character? A love rival? A threat? OH it's the infamous director they're all talking about???"

This image was released around the time chapter 8 was released, i.e. the first chapter we see Onodera in full.

Looking at the image again, I can see how Onodera could be seen as a female or a male. Onodera has long hair, yet no visible breasts. There is no evidence of an Adam's apple, but that could just be because of the turtleneck as part of their outfit. Furthermore, in chapter 13, we see a view of Onodera from behind. There are no "womanly curves" visible in this view of Onodera.

After searching some Japanese blogs, some fans also had the same thoughts: no breasts = possible male, the shape of the face etc. Here are the blogs I found: [1] [2] [3] but most of these are from around chapter 8.

Just about the breast argument: there are a lot of different shapes for breasts. I learnt that when working at a department store selling bras during university. It is possible that Onodera is really flat chested or just has very little breast tissue. Not sure if that's getting too technical now, ahah, but what I want to say is that the lack of breasts isn't a definite yes to Onodera being a man.

Hinohara-sensei also has not explicitly stated throughout TGR so far (ch1-13) that Onodera is male or female.

From chapters 8-12, Onodera is always referred to as 院長 (director) by Shizuma and the nurses at the clinic. No gender-specific pronouns have been used in the story nor by any characters to refer to Onodera when speaking so far (that I have read). So confirming Onodera's gender is just misleading at the present moment.

We do find out in chapter 9 that Onodera's first name is 昌 akira. Akira is a gender neutral name in Japan. It is often given to males, but it is not uncommon for females to have this name. Which, I think, is genius on Sensei's part. It leaves us all thinking!

Q: So Amaya-chwan, what do you think Onodera's gender is?

Just for me as I've been reading TGR the past 1.5 years, I see Onodera as a woman as I have been "encouraged" to see Onodera as one by the little subtleties in the story, and Minato sees Onodera as a female, so I probably am viewing Onodera in Minato's POV.

(Please keep reading on for more insights and answers to questions! Really, this post is long! 😅)

In chapter 9, Onodera's older brother, who is also Shizuma's university professor (and his last name is not Onodera), makes small talk with Shizuma regarding the staff at his placement:

Shizuma's professor says: By the way, Shizuma-kun, how've you been!? You haven't been bullied, have you!? // The female team here is scary, right~ You know, Nakajou-kun and I were in the same grade...

So here, I'm made to think Onodera's clinic is pretty much all female, including Onodera too.

Fun fact: His professor uses the suffix -kun for Nakajou-sensei, yet Nakajou-sensei is a female and -kun is commonly used for males these days. But, it is also used for females in very specific situations. I'm not too sure what the situations are, but I have heard them used for females before.

In the same chapter (9), while Shizuma is changing out of his scrubs in the men's locker (?) room, Onodera walks in. He is slightly flustered, and kindly reminds her that she's walked into the men's locker room. Her reaction is "Huh? Ahh..." So here, again, I am made to believe Onodera is female.

While no gender-specific pronouns have been used to address Onodera, Minato and Itsuki have referred to Onodera as a female in chapter 13.

The kanji for "female/woman" is 女. In these two images, Minato refers to Onodera as 上司の女 female superior, and from Minato's story, Itsuki hence calls her 職場の女の人 female from (Shizuma's) workplace. This is the only time Onodera has been referred to as a female.

⚠️ Just a note going forward in this discussion, I will now call Onodera "she/her" as that is what I believe Onodera's gender is at the present moment!

Now, I did get a second ask from an Anon! Here they are below with my responses:

This one is about what's behind Onodera. I think she's a pretty interesting character. I actually think she's a trans woman or a non-binary trans woman. Sensei has been dropping so many hints to that... The name her brother calls her might be her dead name. He complains about her hair and what their father would say. She's designed to have flat breasts, perhaps she's not under hormone therapy, perhaps her "trips" and "days off" have something to do with reassignment surgeries...

She most definitely is an interesting character. I wouldn't say Onodera being transgender is out of the realm of possibility because the story is still ongoing. But regarding her name, I don't know if I'd call it a dead name since it is gender neutral already. Perhaps the kanji for a male Akira name would be different to a female one though?

About the hair comment (ch10), I just thought it was unruly? I honestly didn't think too much of it! What I will add is that the kanji for hair (髪) is used, but the reading is あたま head. Not sure why just yet, so I'll just leave that here as some extra information for the moment.

Not sure what I really think about a) her flat-chestedness and b) her insanely long business trips yet! I figured a) might be a character design, and b) she really is a top-notch veterinarian so she's probably in high demand. But I could be completely off the mark!

Also, I don't know where to add this random bit in from the story, but in chapter 12, we find out that Onodera has been calling one of the staff the wrong name for more than 10 years now. Not sure if this new piece of info affects anything?

But again, that is a very interesting prediction/thought you have about Onodera, and I wouldn't say it's not possible!

She's kind of a female Minato, psychologicallly and in appearance, which brings some challenges. And one more thing that I think hints to that: "I'll make it so your body can never be satisfied by any woman", Minato says to Shizuma. As the last chapter leaves it at that, we don't know exactly what he is talking about. [spoiler?] I haven't seen the Japanese text yet to be sure if he's clear about topping Shizuma.

That was exactly my thought when she was first introduced! That's part of the reason why I think Minato sees her as a threat, especially when he saw her for the first time and was told she is a 美人beautiful person (both in chapter 12). She and Minato definitely share some characteristics, but I find she's a bit more socially-awkward than Minato given her background (Chapter 9 & 10).

For the dialogue, the Japanese lines and the most literal translations I can give are:

今から　静真くんを抱く From now, (I'll) hold/embrace you, Shizuma-kun.

どんな女に出会っても　絶対満足できない体にしてあげる No matter the women you encounter, I will make it so your body definitely cannot be satisfied (by any of them).

Hopefully we'll find out what Minato means by that exactly in the next chapter, which I hope comes to me this week!

But if that's what he's talking about, it's 1. poor Minato being transphobic (besides being biphobic towards his own boyfriend)* 2. poor Minato probably foreshadowing his own fall. If Onodera happens to be a woman with a d**k, she can do whatever Minato thinks a cis man only can do. That's not what will make Shizuma stay by his side. Shizuma will stay by his side because he loves Minato. And that's that. Debunks biphobic myths, debunks transphobic myths. *He's not a bad person, he's got issues

Okay, this is probably as straight-forward as I can say this, but I just want to say that I don't know enough about the issues faced by the LGBTQI+ community. My friends have kindly answered all my questions so far as I don't want to be ignorant or rude when learning more about my friends and the community. I don't want to give off the air that I'm assuming anything since I don't want any misunderstandings. And I am fully aware that I need to educate myself more regarding this!

So about Minato, I'm not completely sure what you mean by number 2. But he definitely has his share of trauma, insecurities, and fears regarding his relationship with Shizuma. Having Onodera as a threat in this story really helps drive Minato's growth. The story is titled Therapy Game Restart, so what I gather from the title is that Minato is going to face another fear/insecurity he has, something deeply-rooted in him, and it's going to get really heavy and complicated, but he will eventually get through it and it will help him heal and grow as a character, and hopefully strengthen his faith in his relationship with Shizuma.

So far, I believe this "fear" is carrying on from +Play More, that Shizuma can be whisked away by a female at any moment.

But yes, Minato has to realise for himself that his and Shizuma's love, relationship, and bond is strong enough for him to not worry about Shizuma leaving him so abruptly. He has to learn to trust in Shizuma more, and TGR is slowly revealing that, especially in chapter 13.

I'll stop here. I have already written long analyses on this series and I think about making them public at some point. But it would be nice to hear from you! Maybe I'm completely wrong in my interpretations! I'm really sorry for being so annoying and maybe using inappropriate language. I really didn't mean to bother you. But I never see anyone making these points. I just want to know if I'm thinking unreasonably...

I love reading different analyses, opinions, story predictions, the whole lot!! So please feel free to ask me or post your own ideas. It's always a welcome thing for me to discuss stories and learn new things! Don't be sorry that you're being a bother or annoying, because it's not a bother at all!

We're all allowed to have our own ideas and opinions about stories, and these ideas will change once something is canon in the story, and ultimately is something we will have to accept too.

So yeah, just my two cents. Thank you for being so patient with my response, dear Anon!

To anyone reading at this point, thank you for reading this far! ❤️💛💜

I shall see you in our next set of takeaways~ As always, stay safe and take care of yourselves and your loved ones! 💜

(2021-05-17: Speedy proofreading is done ahah! And yes, my brain is still so full of 山河令/Word of Honor right now, so I have been VERY distracted! Highly recommend this drama, guys! It's up for free on the official Youku Youtube page! Totally not an endorsement, but I love this drama! AHHHHH!! Gong Jun [Simon] be living on my mind rent free~)

[carewyncromwell]

Cinderelly, Cinderelly, night and day, it’s Cinderelly~... ^.^ Okay..before I jump into the next part of the Cinderella AU, here’s your usual appetizer of random historical/etc. notes!

Although carriages were developed centuries earlier, actual coaches like the kind we think of from Cinderella stories were first developed in the late 16th century in Hungary, specifically a little town called Kocs. (The word “coach” and its alternatives in other languages, such as the German Kutsche and the Spanish and Portuguese coche, are thought to have been derived from the Hungarian kocsi, meaning “of Kocs.”) They then really caught on in the rest of Europe after Queen Elizabeth I of England started using them in the 1580s. The terms “coach” and “carriage” are often used interchangeably, but if one wanted to pin-point the advancements coaches specifically made in contrast to carriages of the past, there are a few differences one can pick out in how they’re built. Coaches generally are four-wheeled enclosed vehicles with doors and/or windows (glass was added in later centuries), and often include a “boot” seat on the outside for a footman and/or luggage to sit on. Coaches also generally have a reputation for providing a smoother ride than previous modes of transport because they’re suspended between the wheels rather than directly over or beside them. After the invention of the coach, one can find carriages (royal ones, in particular) adopting some of these same attributes.

Sadly wheelchairs really weren’t a thing in the 16th century. The first self-propelled wheeled chairs were developed in the mid-17th century and refined in the 18th, with sedan chairs or litters (A.K.A. chairs you carried) generally being used by the nobility prior to that. But there’s no way in Hell I’m not going to give McNully the independence he deserves, so I used a completely anachronistic design inspired by this antique wheelchair I found online, made circa around the 1840′s. Hey, this is a fantasy world anyway, so bleh. :P The flower detailing on the wheel is supposed to evoke an emblem I see being on Florence’s green and gold coat of arms (get it? “Florence?” “Flora?”). You might also notice that McNully has little Snitch-like “wing” frills on each of his buttons! XD

Another fun thing I learned while doing research -- although cloaks were often worn for warmth during the medieval period and beyond, in England during the Elizabethan era, their use was actually actively discouraged and even prohibited, as they were associated with criminals and rebels! Therefore it was common for a lot of English noblemen and women to wear thicker clothing made of wool and accessories like muffs, gloves, and even jackets for warmth instead. I tried very, very hard to find historically accurate examples of period-worthy jackets and capes for women around the time of the Renaissance, and was very frustrated to find a lot of fantasy-esque costume pieces or historical clothing from later eras that were simply mislabeled -- but I did find one lovely recreation of a 16th century wool jacket, so that’s what I used as reference for Carewyn’s jacket in this sketch, though I personally imagine it as a dark red, so as to better blend with her burnt orange and beige servant’s uniform. Bill’s uniform is based off a real castle guard uniform from early 16th century France, though with a much simpler color palette (I see Royaume’s colors being blue and red). Like with McNully’s chair, there’s a crown on the chest of Bill’s uniform, which I see being on Royaume’s coat of arms (“royaume” is literally French for “kingdom”).

In her canon, Carewyn was born when Jacob was nine years old. Although in most of Carewyn and Jacob’s canon post-Portrait-Vault, they end up being only two years apart in age, that’s only because Jacob stopped aging while trapped in a Portrait for seven years. From Carewyn’s fifth year on, Jacob and Carewyn in canon therefore act much more like contemporaries, even though Jacob actually kind of ended up partially raising Carewyn alongside their mother Lane.

Previous part is here – whole tag is here – Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee and I hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Every day over the next week, Carewyn met Orion at the gate of the palace of Royaume, and the two would spend an hour or so together. Orion would ask her about life at the palace, Carewyn would playfully respond, and sooner or later, they’d end up getting diverted and talking about something else completely, whether the upcoming Winter Festival, the language of flowers, art, poetry, the meaning of life, music, fencing, or (after seeing a rather beautiful eagle flying overhead) what it might be like to fly. Carewyn honestly wasn’t entirely sure what Orion got out of their meetings besides entertainment, and naturally she couldn’t afford to indulge in such entertainment too long, when she had so much work to do around the castle and she still had to find out where Jacob was positioned. But she had to admit, with the King and Queen having invited Iris over to stay in one of the guest suites at the palace for the remainder of the month, Carewyn didn’t mind having an excuse to stay far away from her cousin. Lately Carewyn had actively planned her days so that she could clean the guest suites at teatime, when Iris would be in one of the foyers with the King, Queen, and Prince on the opposite side of the palace. She did not want a repeat of the other day, after all...particularly since she’d also need time to change out of the nicer, collared dresses she’d wear when spending time with Orion.

Orion, meanwhile, was of course getting a bit more than entertainment out of his and Carewyn’s meetings. Through speaking with Carewyn, he’d sussed out some very helpful information about Royaumanian culture, the dynamics within Royaume’s royal family, and both their and their country’s financial state. One day he told his closest confidantes at court, Skye and McNully, some of what he’d learned...but Skye didn’t react quite as favorably as Orion had expected.

“...I gave Lady Cromwell a copy of the sheet music for ‘No One is Alone’ last week -- you remember the song, of course? And from what I understand, Prince Henri and the castle staff have quite taken to it. Not that I’m surprised -- Carewyn has a very soothing voice. I’m sure she performed it very well. But the Prince listening to the words at all is a good sign -- I even asked Carewyn if the Prince enjoyed them, and she said she believed so. She also found their message meaningful...one of Florence’s best-loved anti-War songs, and one about looking through another’s eyes and forgiving past grievances, no less! That can only be a good sign, for Royaumanians to take heart in it. It surely must have been fate that Lady Cromwell and I collided at the market -- I had a feeling we were kindred spirits, when she came to my aid, but now I am most assured of it. I might hazard a guess that she wishes for peace just as much as I -- for the sake of her brother fighting in the field, yes, but also selflessly for the sake of others, not wishing to see any other person in pain...”

“She sounds like a perfect knight in shining armor,” said Skye, her voice oddly cutting.

Orion looked up at Skye, startled by her tone. Her arms were crossed over the chest of her faded blue linen dress.

“Anything else you want to tell us about the fair Lady Cromwell,” she said rather icily, “or are you actually ready to talk about how you plan to end this War?”

Orion blinked slowly. “...I thought that we were already discussing that.”

“Really?” scoffed Skye. “‘Cause it sounds to me like you were busy gushing over your new conquest.”

“Conquest?” Orion repeated. His confused tone then melted into something more soothing and indulgent, “Oh -- no, Skye...you misunderstand me. I have no interest in courting Carewyn -- she’s just my contact point, with the palace.”

Skye gave a very loud, disbelieving snort. “Ha! Right, of course she is -- that’s why you can’t stop gushing about ‘Carewyn this’ and ‘Lady Cromwell that.’”

“Skye has a point, Orion,” said McNully, though his voice was a lot less confrontational. If anything he sounded almost sheepish. “I mean, about 85% of your report was about Lady Cromwell. You used her name over ten times just in the span of a minute.”

Amazingly Orion’s calm, hard-to-read expression didn’t crack. His hands clasped lightly in front of him.

“Lady Cromwell plays an essential part in this strategy. I’m an outsider looking in, without her insight -- a ship sailing blindly, without the light from a lighthouse to give me direction.”

“A lighthouse for a lost ship -- oh yeah, those sound like the words of someone who’s focusing on winning a war and not swooning over a pretty face,” said Skye scathingly. “Maybe instead of always running off and playing dress-up, you could actually bother to do your duty and go help fight on the battlefield for once!”

Orion’s lips came together tightly, but it didn’t make his expression any less composed. McNully shot Skye an uncomfortable, faintly disapproving look.

“Easy, Skye,” he murmured. “You know Orion -- ”

But Skye didn’t seem to hear McNully. Instead she tore into Orion.

“Face it, Orion -- you just like being treated like a commoner again and being able to make believe that you don’t have any responsibilities or worries...well, guess what? You’re not a commoner anymore! You’re the Prince of Florence -- you reckon little Miss Knight-in-Shining-Armor would take kindly to that, when she finds out?”

Orion’s dark eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon Skye’s face.

“Carewyn’s not an unreasonable woman,” he said softly. “I’m certain she would understand the reason behind my secrecy.”

This, if anything, only seemed to make Skye madder.

“Of course she would,” she muttered sourly. “Little Lady Royaume can do no wrong in your eyes, can she?”

She turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Orion feeling very resigned and confused. McNully gave a heavy sigh, before facing Orion with a more serious expression.

“She’s overreacting, as usual,” he said, “but she’s still 60% right. It’s risky enough for you to get this close to anyone right now, when your position as Crown Prince is threatened by the likes of Lord Malfoy. He’d frankly love to have something like that over you. But someone from Royaume? The granddaughter of one of the most powerful, wealthy, and feared noblemen in their country? Orion, that’s dangerous.”

Orion leaned his hands on the table, looking down at the map of Florence and Royaume laid out on top of it.

“McNully, I assure you...my objective has not changed,” he said very levelly. “Everything I have done is for Florence -- for peace and balance. I admit, Lady Cromwell is a fascinating woman, and certainly one to be admired...but I spend time with her to gather intelligence I can obtain nowhere else. That is all.”

McNully looked doubtful, but didn’t directly address it. Instead he said, “I understand she’s your eyes and ears inside the palace, and the intelligence you’re getting is valuable...but don’t forget, she isn’t on your team. She’s on Royaume’s. And right now, Royaume is kicking our tail out there, on the battlefield.”

Orion’s dark eyes drifted away from the table as McNully leaned his arms on the table himself.

“It’s getting bad again,” he murmured very seriously. “I know you said the palace of Royaume’s strapped for funds, but somehow or another, they’ve scrounged up enough to get more cannons, and their troops have been moving them around every couple of hours so that our men never know where they’re going to be firing from next. It’s been very effective. Whoever’s been giving Royaume’s King and Queen military strategy lately, they’re a bloody genius.”

McNully clearly was irritated about this, given the flash that shot through his narrowed eyes.

“Your father sent me a request for a counter-strategy this morning. You know it’s likely if the strategy isn’t one he can execute on his own, he may ask both you and me to join him there, on the front lines.”

Orion did not respond. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was something oddly detached and avoidant in his posture.

“I know you don’t want that, and you know I have faith in you,” said McNully, “but your strategy is a slow burn, Orion. It requires both patience and time...and we might not end up having as much of those as you think.”

Once again, Orion chose not to answer. McNully sighed again.

“You know I’ll be right behind you in a coach, if you need me,” he said tiredly. “Just...mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

Orion threw on his black traveling cloak and headed back to Royaume not long after, hoping to meet up with Carewyn for an evening stroll. There was a notable chill in the air -- if it got much colder, he thought that any rain might instead come down as sleet or maybe even snow.

When Orion arrived at the gate, however, he was met not by Carewyn, but by KC. She was dressed in a high-necked gown made of black velvet and holding a leather-bound book and a stack of parchment in her arms.

Orion tilted his head slightly to glance at the piece of parchment on the top of the stack, which had several “X’s” scattered over an oddly familiar map.

“Plans to bury some pirate treasure?” he asked pleasantly.

KC gave a lightly amused snort. “No, just military plans.”

Her lightly freckled face then grew a bit more serious. “I guess you’re here for Carewyn?”

Orion had been ready to ask more about the military plans KC was holding, but decided not to circle back to it when she changed the subject.

“Yes. Has she been detained?”

“I guess so...” said KC. Her lips twisted into a concerned frown as she looked out at the darkening sky.

Orion’s eyebrows knit together over his eyes slightly. “You seem concerned.”

KC bit her lip. “Mm...it’s just...well, you see, one of the royal carriages broke down earlier today, when the Queen was riding through the country with Lady Yaxley.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Lady Iris Yaxley, do you mean? Carewyn’s cousin?”

“Yes. No one was badly hurt, fortunately, but the Queen, Lady Iris, and the coachman and footman were forced to ride the horses back and leave the carriage behind. When they got back, they asked the royal carpenter, Charlie Weasley, to go fix it. Charlie said that he probably wouldn’t have the proper tools to fix it here at the castle, so Carewyn offered to ride out with him, so that their horses could drag the coach together to the Weasley family cottage, about forty minutes away. The problem is,” she said with a deepening frown, “they left over two hours ago, and they’re still not back yet. Bill headed out after them on his own horse not long before you got here...he’s Charlie’s brother, so he knows the route they would’ve taken...”

Orion’s dark eyes had narrowed significantly.

“Which road did Sir Weasley take after them?” he asked, his calm voice nonetheless touched with the faintest edge.

KC pointed. “Northwest -- toward the mountains.”

Orion nodded. “Thank you.”

And with this, he turned on his heel and rushed back toward where he thought he might find McNully’s coach. He needed to borrow a horse.

Setting one of the black horses free of the black coach, Orion rode off toward the mountains, his slightly-too-long dark hair flapping freely behind him. The road was well-marked, but it soon veered off into dense woods as it migrated up toward the mountains. Orion had never gone so far west into Royaume before, let alone far from Florence before. Despite himself, he had to acknowledge the beauty of the landscape. The views of the castle below were breathtaking -- it looked as tiny as a toy, and yet the infinite glass windows made it sparkle like some diamond-like beacon in the darkening sky. He wondered if his own palace in Florence looked so beautiful to others, at a distance. As much as he himself hadn’t been raised a prince, it was difficult for him to look at his own palace as anything other than a cage.

As he went further uphill and the sky darkened, it also grew colder. Orion was starting to see his own breath on the air. He thought of Carewyn alone in the cold, perhaps hurt, and had to take several deep breaths to sooth his nerves. He was never in a right state, when he let his thoughts run too wild or his fears chatter too loudly.

Finally Orion caught sight of two familiar ginger-headed men, standing by an overturned coach, covered in mud and missing one of its back wheels. One of the men was the tall, freckled castle guard from the other day who Carewyn called Bill, dressed in his high-collared blue and red patterned uniform tunic and matching white feathered, blue-velvet hat -- the other was much stockier, but no less freckled, dressed in a burgundy-colored tunic and loose brown pants and boots, and he wore his ginger hair in a ponytail not unlike Orion’s when he was at court. When Orion approached them, Bill immediately reacted with suspicion -- Orion explained what KC had told him and asked where Carewyn was, and was incredibly startled to hear her voice coming from over the edge of the cliff.

“I’m down here!”

Orion couldn’t help but feel a flash of concern. He raced over as if to look over the edge, but Charlie lashed out an arm in front of the taller man to stop him.

“Uh, I wouldn’t look over if I were you, mate,” he said, having trouble biting back his laughter despite himself.

He pointed at the broken carriage. Hanging over one of the doors was what looked like the burnt orange and beige skirt of a dress and several wool petticoats.

Orion blinked a few times in great surprise, his tanned cheeks darkening with a faint blush. Bill, however, reacted with anxiety.

“Carewyn!” he shouted over the ravine. “Are you in your underwear down there!?”

“Ugh -- well, I couldn’t very well climb down into this briar patch and wrench this wheel loose in my dress, could I?” Carewyn called back up rather haughtily. “At least my bloomers are slightly akin to the sorts of trousers you all wear.”

“You’ll catch a death of cold out here!” said Bill.

“I’m all right,” Carewyn reassured him. “Ulk -- ugh -- I have the wool jacket Andre made for me on...”

Charlie took a step forward, his eyes moved up toward the darkening sky pointedly so as not to look over the edge as he called down,

“Bill’s right, though, Carewyn -- it’s getting colder by the minute...and it’s getting dark too. Are you sure you can lift that thing up and over all by yourself?”

“Ugh...I admit, it’s a bit difficult!” she called back. “But I think I can manage.”

Recalling Carewyn’s blatant refusal of help in retrieving her horse, Orion -- still fighting back a slight blush -- called over the ravine himself.

“We do not question your capabilities, Carewyn,” he said patiently, “but would you like our help?”

“Ugh -- don’t be silly,” said Carewyn, sounding faintly haughty. “You, Charlie, and Bill would break your necks, climbing down here. And I’m still in my undergarments -- I have no interest in anyone seeing me prance around without proper clothes on, thank you.”

“It’s no use,” Charlie muttered under his breath, “I’ve tried to offer her help for the last hour, but she keeps putting me off, saying she’s fine. I don’t get why she feels like she has to do everything by herself...”

“Probably because she’s always had to, Charlie,” said Bill quietly. His voice betrayed a lot of sympathy and sadness as he exhaled through his nose.

Orion’s black eyes deepened with some compassion for Bill as he called back over the ravine to Carewyn,

“Your points are well made, my lady...but we’d still like to help you.”

“Ugh -- you can help me by leaving me my dignity and not looking over while I’m only half-dressed...ack...”

“Would you accept us doing more than that?”

“Urgh -- I am...sorry to have made you and Bill come out all this way -- but I’m all right, really.”

Bill glanced at Orion out the side of his eye, and then back at the cliff. Despite his distrust of the man, the eldest Weasley was sort of glad he wasn’t the only one who disliked how reticent Carewyn was to accept help.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said earnestly. “I was -- we were worried about you, Carewyn. You and Charlie.”

He and Orion glanced at each other. Bill wished the other man’s expression wasn’t so hard to read. The castle guard tried to twist his uncomfortable frown into a smile that Carewyn would hopefully be able to hear over the edge of the cliff.

“Come on...let’s get you and that wheel up and over so you can get back into your dress.”

There was a silence. Then Carewyn said a bit more quietly,

“...You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Wha -- oh, come off it, Carewyn!” said Charlie exasperatedly. “To hell we do! You think I was mucking about, calling you my pal and saying I needed to figure out a nickname for you? Now let us help you, or I’ll consider making that nickname an irritating one!”

There was another silence. Then Carewyn sighed very loudly and tiredly, and Orion couldn’t help but grin, because he could tell she’d finally given in.

“Oh, all right,” she said begrudgingly. “But I don’t really know how you’re going to help, when you can’t look at me.”

Orion closed his eyes.

“Describe your surroundings, Carewyn,” he said. “Paint a picture for me, with your words.”

“...Well, I’ve gotten the wheel out of the briar patch. I’m trying to roll it back up, but it’s as large as me, and the downward slope and the ice is making it difficult. Plus the wheel isn’t in great shape -- all of its spokes are broken, so there isn’t much for me to push up on, while rolling it uphill.”

“I would’ve told her to just forget it, but it’d be much easier for me to carve a new wheel if I have framework from the old one,” Charlie explained. “I’m already going to have to make the new spokes and hubcap completely out of wood instead of using any gold or metalwork, but it’s still going to take a lot of time...even more so if the old wheel framework can’t be saved...”

Orion considered the matter, visualizing the set-up down below on the inside of his eyelids. “...What’s left of the wheel...is it made of metal or wood?”

“Wood...but there seems to be some sort of metal lining around the rim, held on by nails.”

“That’d be for durability, I reckon,” said Charlie. “Wood alone would get chaffed badly on the ground, moving in a constant circle down cobblestones or over anything rocky.”

Orion opened his eyes and looked over the broken coach. His gaze lingered on the thick leather straps coming off of the front that no doubt would’ve attached it to their horses. Then he abruptly got up, rushing over to undo the straps from the carriage.

“What are you doing?” said Bill, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Orion quickly knotted the long, thick leather straps together with several complex-looking and strong knots.

“Carewyn,” he called over very calmly, “I’m going to lower this down to you -- use the buckle and loop it securely around the inside rim of the wheel, so that it’s tight. Give it a light tug when it’s secure.”

He blindly tossed one end of the rope made out of leather straps over the edge of the cliff. After a minute, he felt a light tug at the end.

“Gentlemen,” Orion murmured to the Weasleys, “I’ll need you to hold this, for just a moment. Carewyn,” he added, as Charlie and Bill both grabbed the end of the makeshift rope and he let go, “I’m going to need you to step onto the wheel yourself and hold on.”

“What?” said Carewyn. “Orion, you can’t lift both me and the wheel -- it’s far too much! I’ll climb up and out myself -- ”

“Not to worry, my lady -- none of us will be doing the lifting,” said Orion serenely.

He led both his black horse and Bill’s chestnut horse over by their reins, and -- taking the makeshift rope from Bill and Charlie again -- he looped the end under the straps of both his and Bill’s saddles. He gave several tugs at all of the connections to make sure they were tight and secure before mounting his horse.

“Sir Weasley, if you would assist me.”

Catching onto Orion’s idea at last, Bill rushed forward so he could jump up onto his own horse.

“Mr. Weasley, you may want to have your hands ready to help Carewyn climb out when she gets close to the top,” said Orion over his shoulder. “Sir Weasley, together now.”

With a lot of effort and strain, the two horses were able to lift Carewyn and the broken wheel up and out of the ravine. Once Carewyn was out, all three men averted their eyes so she could put her dress back on. Once she was suitably redressed in her orange-and-beige dress, snood, and dark scarlet wool jacket, she, Bill, and Orion helped Charlie secure some makeshift posts he’d carved out of some nearby tree branches under the broken coach so that their four horses could lift it up off the ground and help support it without its second back wheel. Then the four hobbled the coach up the mountain the rest of the way to the Weasley family cottage.

The home of the Weasley family, affectionately nicknamed “the Burrow,” was built up against the side of a hill. Attached to the house was a large farm with sprawling pastures and short, rustic wooden fences. Its roof had clearly been patched up multiple times over the years with whatever kind of wood was on hand, making it resemble a patchwork quilt.

When the group arrived, Bill and Charlie’s youngest sibling and only sister Ginny immediately ran out to greet them -- she’d seen them coming up over the horizon and was beyond thrilled to see that it was her eldest brothers. Bill and Charlie’s teenage brothers Percy, Fred, George, and Ron soon followed along after. Fred and George -- who were identical twins -- were quick to crow that Charlie had brought them an early birthday present (namely, the coach), and Percy scolded them that clearly it was for work and they should let it alone. Orion and Carewyn ended up staying back at a distance, both faintly baffled by the amount of warmth and noise emanating from the seven siblings as they chattered amongst themselves, constantly stepping on each other’s feet and interrupting what everyone else was saying. Neither of them had ever encountered a family quite like this before. When Bill and Charlie’s parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley, emerged from the house, however, Molly very quickly bustled every last one of them inside, including Orion and Carewyn.

“In you go, the lot of you,” she said in a forceful, but very warm tone of voice. “You all look like you need some supper-- ”

“Oh -- no, Mrs. Weasley,” said Carewyn very quickly, ���I couldn’t impose -- ”

“Nonsense, dear!” said Molly, as she took Carewyn’s hands and led her inside. “Why, you’re positively freezing! To think, you came all the way out here without a proper muff for your hands...”

“I had to help Charlie with the carriage,” Carewyn said, her eyes drawn away awkwardly rather than looking at Molly, “I couldn’t hope to have my hands free, using a muff...”

“Then both of you should come inside and get warm,” said Arthur, startling Orion with an amiable clap on the back. “Any friend of Bill and Charlie’s is a friend of our family.”

Carewyn had never been the subject of such coddling and generosity before in her life. Her mother had always taught her to treat people with respect and compassion, of course, but she had been a soft-spoken and understated person, and their family life had always been very quiet. And of course at the Cromwell estate, it had been less modest and quiet, but far less affectionate as well. Never had she ever visited such a loud, crowded, and faintly uncomfortable place that still nonetheless felt like a home, full of warmth and love.

Even Orion found himself feeling a bit unsettled by the Weasley family’s overwhelming hospitality. He’d been in plenty of unruly, crowded, and loud settings like this before -- but none of them had ever been quite this...well, jovial. It made it so that Orion yearned for peace, quiet, and returned distance, and yet also couldn’t help but marvel at the positive vibes that rippled off of this family and how much they could give, despite clearly having so little. When dinner was served, Orion had to politely decline a bowl of beef stew because he didn’t eat meat, and Molly Weasley immediately handed the bowl off to Ron so she could set about making Orion his own plate, piled high with cheesy mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, and roasted cauliflower seasoned with garlic and chives.

The Weasley family and their guests sat in an uncomfortable, messy half-circle around the large brick fireplace, laughing and talking as they ate. After supper came the dessert of hot, fresh apple dumplings, and after dessert came some hot tea and scones. After all, said Molly Weasley, having guests over was a rare treat, so they were going to celebrate appropriately. Neither Carewyn nor Orion could remember ever having felt so full in all their lives.

As everyone enjoyed their scones and tea, stories and songs were swapped around the fire. At one point in the evening, twelve-year-old Ginny -- who was perfectly thrilled to have another girl around, for a change -- begged Carewyn to sing for them. Apparently Bill had told his family all about her lovely voice. So, with some encouragement from Charlie, Arthur, and Molly, Carewyn bit back a broad, amused grin, took a deep breath, and started to sing.

“Mother cannot guide you...now you’re on your own.

Only me beside you -- still, you’re not alone...”

Orion had thought to himself that Carewyn must have done the song from his youth proper justice while singing for the Prince, but hearing her sing it in person, seeing her smile at him and her eyes sparkle as she did so...it was a completely different matter. As before, Orion felt all of the tension in his shoulders ebb off of him, as easily as dirt was washed away in warm water. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, tilting his head a bit so that he could hear her better, as his breathing and heart rate slowed. Even with his eyes closed, he could hear a smile in every word Carewyn sang...even when she likely wasn’t smiling at all, he thought. How could she be smiling, when lines like “sometimes people leave you half-way through the wood” and “people make mistakes -- fathers, mothers” rang with such emotion and pain? Was that pain visible on her face? Orion thought not, given Carewyn’s sense of grace and composure...but he heard it, all the same. He felt it -- her heart, aching with a kind of deep, blazing empathy Orion had never encountered in anyone else before.

When Carewyn came to the end of the song, Orion opened his eyes at last. The Weasleys all clapped, delighted, but he barely heard them as he turned to Carewyn.

“...That was remarkable,” he murmured.

Carewyn smiled. “I’m glad you think I did it justice.”

“Mm,” said Orion. “I’ve...never heard anyone drown like that, before.”

Carewyn couldn’t bite back a laugh. “Perhaps I didn’t do it justice then, if I sounded like I was drowning...”

“You were drowning in the words’ meaning,” corrected Orion. “Enveloping and submerging yourself in them -- allowing them to pull you in and take your breath away.”

He smiled, his black eyes very soft upon Carewyn’s face.

“It was...very moving.”

Molly’s face spread into an indulgent smile as she reached forward and patted Carewyn’s hand. “It was absolutely beautiful, dear.”

“Orion’s right, Carewyn,” agreed Arthur. “Your feelings really came through. I could tell the words mean something to you.”

Carewyn offered a polite smile, even as her eyes drifted away. “...I suppose they do.”

“It sounds like a lullaby, sort of,” mused Ron. “Even if it talks about your mother not being around.”

Ginny tilted her head toward Carewyn, Ron’s words prompting concern.

“...Do you not have a mother, Carewyn?”

The rest of the family went very quiet -- some like Percy shot Ginny warning looks, while others like Molly and Ron couldn’t help but glance at Carewyn in similar concern.

Carewyn’s gaze had drifted off onto the fire. Although she was turned away and her face was stoic, however, Orion could see her eyes rippling like turbulent ocean water, before she closed them solemnly.

“...I had one,” she answered softly at last. “She died when I was twelve.”

“Was she sick?” asked Ron, very hesitantly.

Carewyn bowed her head and gave a single, silent nod. Everyone in the room knew what that meant. The Plague had swept through both Royaume and Florence several times, over the span of the War -- one of the worst years was about nine years ago now...probably the same year Carewyn had lost her mother.

Orion’s black eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon her face. Molly looked like she wanted to envelop Carewyn in the biggest hug and was only holding back the urge because of her husband’s tight, reassuring squeeze to her hand.

“Oh, you poor dear,” she murmured.

Carewyn raised her head at last, her expression once again touched by a small, resilient, pretty smile.

“It’s all right,” she said gently, her eyes only briefly grazing each of the Weasleys’ faces. “I’ll always miss my mother...but I’m getting along all right. And I still have Jacob.”

“Your brother?” asked Percy, and Carewyn nodded.

“He left for War the same day he and I moved in with our grandfather,” Carewyn explained.

“Your brother must be quite a bit older than you, then,” said Orion.

Carewyn glanced at Orion out the side of her eye, smiling slightly. “Nine years older, yes. You know...you actually remind me of him, a bit.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Carewyn was forced to stifle a giggle behind her hand. “Jacob is also the sort to do things in his own clever way. Only he’s a lot more aggressive than you -- and more talkative, and arrogant, and overprotective...”

“And uglier,” inserted Fred.

“And smellier,” added George.

“With a long crooked nose and ears like a bat’s.”

The younger Weasley siblings were all laughing now. Carewyn had to cover her mouth to stifle her giggling.

“No!” she choked. “I don’t mean it like that! He’s wonderful, really. He’s just...well, an absolute idiot about how to interact with other people. He’s completely brilliant, mind you -- he could give you whole lectures about anything from geography to mathematics to physics...but coming up with spontaneous gifts for no occasion at all, just based on someone’s interests? He’d need some prodding, to do something like that.”

She smiled at Orion, who couldn’t help but grin fully in return.

“It was truly nothing at all, Carewyn,” he said. “With your love of music, it felt like that song would be something you would appreciate.”

Arthur glanced at Orion curiously. “Where is that song from, Orion? I’ve never heard it before.”

“I learned it as a boy,” Orion answered. “I would hear it sung outside the window of the workhouse, sometimes.”

Molly looked very troubled. “Workhouse? Orion dear, you don’t mean to say you grew up in one of those terrible places?”

Orion felt Carewyn’s gaze on him. When he looked back at her, her almond-shaped blue eyes were rippling with concern as well, though much gentler and more empathetic than Molly’s. He tried to offer her a smile.

“Let’s just say the words spoke to me as well, at the time,” he said lightly. “Not just to me, either...all of the boys there, one way or another, were where they were because of other people’s ‘terrible mistakes.’”

Orion’s gaze drifted down to his own hands as he lightly clasped them in his lap.

“...The War doesn’t touch you the same way here, but...the closer you are to Florence...the more the reality of it hits you in the face, every day. Even when you’re not on the battlefield itself -- even when you’re just at the border -- you, and the ones you care for, run the risk of getting caught in the crossfire. And on the border of Florence and Royaume...in those towns where it’s hard to tell where one country starts and another begins...tensions are like gunpowder. One spark from the tiniest match can set it ablaze -- can make everything implode, and force you to start all over again.”

His face was unreadable, but his black eyes were endless, rippling with the recollection of the fire and smoke -- the red and blue colors of Royaume, on the saddles of horses -- the life leaving his mother’s eyes -- his own heavy, terrified hyperventilating...

He closed his eyes and took several very deep, measured breaths before continuing.

“In such a place...one can find people desperate enough to want to lash out at others, to avenge their pain,” said Orion solemnly. “But there was one sweet old woman who owned a flower and herb shop near the workhouse. She’d had to rebuild her establishment several times over the years, and from what I understand, she finally had to leave town not long after I did...but every time she caught wind that the army was coming to town, looking for new recruits...she’d sing the song just loudly enough that we boys could hear it through our window.”

He absently played with the crudely carved circular charm on the cord around his neck in one hand.

“And although there were those who still enlisted afterwards...many others did not.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened.

“‘While we’re seeing our side,’ ” she sang again, more softly, “‘maybe we forgot...they are not alone. No one is alone.’ ”

Orion’s lips spread into a smile as he looked at Carewyn, his black eyes rippling gently as he nodded.

“So it’s against the War, then,” murmured Charlie. He glanced at his parents, who both looked concerned.

“Did that woman with the flower shop give you that?” asked Ginny curiously, indicating the charm around Orion’s neck.

“Yes,” said Orion. “She gave it to me one night when I tried to run away, to soothe my nerves. Its effects wore off by the next morning, but I’ve never really had the heart to throw it out.”

Percy sputtered, looking very pale. “Th-then she was a witch?”

“Whoa,” said Fred and George, looking almost too eager.

“Did she turn all the army into pigs?” asked George.

“Did she lure you in and try to cook you in a soup?” said Fred.

Orion smiled indulgently. “Of course not -- ”

“Well, thank Heavens for that!” said Molly, shooting the twins a very reproachful look. “Magic isn’t something to make fun of, you two -- it’s frankly a wonder you weren’t hurt, dear...”

Orion frowned. “There was no danger, Madam Weasley, I assure you.”

“No danger! Orion,” Molly scolded him indulgently, “I applaud your courage...but nature has its own way of things, and any magic that twists it out of shape is more dangerous than it’s worth.”

To the Weasley family’s surprise, Carewyn actually spoke up.

“Mrs. Weasley, men tend fields, plant seeds, domesticate horses and dogs...treat illnesses and injuries...cut hair and wear makeup and put on heeled shoes to make ourselves appear taller. Would that not also be twisting nature’s intent?”

Molly actually faltered somewhat. “Well, yes, but...that’s very different from magic, Carewyn! Magic is...well, it’s wild. Uncontrollable.”

“It’s untamed chaos,” said Arthur more levelly than his wife. “A kind that’s done a lot more harm than good.”

“But it still can be used for good,” said Carewyn very firmly. “And if it has that potential, why must we treat it as though it and all of its users are inherently reprehensible? If magic can be used to save lives, or heal the sick, or even just calm a scared boy down after something horrible...”

She glanced at Orion out the side of her eye.

“...Then it seems to be like any other weapon or tool, or even any other person -- something that could protect or hurt.”

Orion felt like his heart was being flooded with warmth, and his entire expression melted with pride and something like affection as he stared at Carewyn.

She truly is a woman to be admired. The memory of Skye’s irritation and McNully’s warning rippled over Orion’s mind and he found himself faltering. Admire...yes. Anyone could grow to admire such a woman, couldn’t they? To respect and esteem her...to...grow an attachment, to her... Even I? Could I...?

The Weasleys exchanged uncertain looks amongst themselves.

“Come to think of it,” said Ron thoughtfully, “wasn’t there that old myth about fairy godmothers who grant you wishes?”

Fred brought an arm roughly around his younger brother’s neck and put him in a rough choke hold. “Aww, ickle Ronnie wanting a pwetty new dress?”

“‘Oh fairy godmother, I just gotta have a new dress for the Winter Festival!’” said George in a high-pitched squeal.

“Geroff!” growled Ron, as he pulled free.

“Oh, but that would be fun!” sighed Ginny. “Dancing at the Winter Festival, in the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen...you’re going to the Festival, aren’t you, Carewyn?”

“Probably not, Ginny,” said Carewyn gently, “I’ve got so much work to do...”

“Oh, but you have to!” whined Ginny. “The Festival’s tradition! Right, Orion?”

“So I’ve heard,” Orion said modestly, “but I’m afraid I’ve never attended a Winter Festival either.”

“What?!” said all of the Weasley children except Bill in thoroughly aghast unison.

“It’s the biggest celebration of the entire year -- ”

“Everybody in town will be there -- ”

“ -- well, aside from the noble tarts -- ”

“ -- but hey, who needs them?”

“Everybody makes the best mince pies and hot apple cider -- ”

“There’s dancing and singing and games and gift-giving -- ”

“You just can’t miss it -- ”

Before long, they’d completely gotten off the topic of magic all together, so the Weasleys could tell Orion all about the Winter Festival. Carewyn took the opportunity to start carrying dishes into the kitchen so that she could help Molly clean up. While she did so, Bill pulled her aside.

“Carewyn...can I talk to you? Alone?”

Carewyn blinked, but nonetheless put down the dishes she was carrying and followed Bill off into a secluded corner.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in concern.

Bill bit the inside of his lip, his brown eyes drifting over in the direction of the fireplace where the rest of his family was sitting with Orion.

“Carewyn,” he said slowly, “who is that man, really?”

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit together. Bill ran a hand over the undone collar of his tunic absently.

“He’s hiding something, I know it. And I’m sure you see it too. He dodges questions he doesn’t want to answer, and as much as he’s even told us tonight about himself, he never gives important details. He lived near the border, but he didn’t mention what town he’s from. He lived in a workhouse, presumably after losing his parents, but he never said what he lost them to.”

“Those things might not be easy for him to talk about, Bill,” Carewyn said softly.

“Yes,” said Bill in a bracing voice, “but he also hopped the walls of the palace, completely ignorant of how tight royal security is and why, has enough time to chase after you most every day, and gets paints from people he can’t identify and learns songs from people who, from the sound of things, practice witchcraft.”

Bill crossed his arms. He clearly was trying to be considerate to Carewyn’s feelings, but couldn’t hold back his concerns.

“Look, I...I understand you like the man. And I understand why -- Ginny and the others seem to have taken to him pretty well, too. But there’s no reason for someone to hold back that many secrets, unless they’re up to no good. He could be a cad, or a criminal, or maybe even something worse. Judging by his stance on magic, he could even be a magician himself...”

His brown eyes narrowed slightly upon Carewyn’s face.

“I’m just...worried about you, that’s all,” he said lowly.

Carewyn considered Bill for a long moment. Then, reaching out a hand, she gently took hold of Bill’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Bill...I understand how you feel. And I’m grateful, truly grateful, for your caring. I hardly deserve it, and it...it means a lot to me.”

Bill frowned deeply, ready to say something, but Carewyn cut him off.

“But believe me when I say that people don’t just keep secrets because they mean to do harm. Sometimes -- for some people -- they’ve had to learn to hide themselves and shield their hearts...so much so that even when they encounter good people, it’s hard for them to let their guard down. Sometimes they’ve known so much pain that, even though they’re kind people, they’ve numbed themselves to a degree, just to protect themselves. Lied so much...that it becomes second-nature. Or worse, lie because they don’t know who they can really trust...because so many people have hurt them that they don’t know what trust even feels like anymore.”

Bill’s expression lost some of its edge, though it still looked wary.

“...And if he is a magic user?”

“Then he’s one of the good ones,” said Carewyn firmly.

Bill still looked a bit unsure. Carewyn squeezed his shoulder a bit more tightly, her eyes resting there instead of on his face.

“Bill, my brother is only alive, thanks to magic.”

Bill was startled.

“The Plague swept through our whole house,” said Carewyn lowly. “First the landlord and his family -- then my mother...and then Jacob. We were living hand-to-mouth, and I didn’t have anyone else to go to...so I went to the Cromwell estate.”

Bill’s brown eyes became a little smaller, darkening with grim understanding.

“...You went to your grandfather.”

Carewyn nodded. “He disowned Mum long ago, but he was still our family, so I thought he might be willing to help us. He agreed to take Jacob and me in and nurse Jacob back to health, so long as we paid back his generosity. Grandfather then tracked down a witch who could cast a spell to save Jacob’s life.”

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed. “Lord Cromwell hired a -- ?”

“Do not repeat this, Bill!” Carewyn said very sharply and urgently. “To anyone, do you understand? No one.”

Her eyes then softened visibly, becoming grimmer and sadder.

“Jacob was dying. There was no other option.”

Bill looked like he was in pain, just hearing this second-hand. He swallowed, and then gave a nod.

“So that witch saved your brother’s life,” he said quietly.

Carewyn nodded, her eyes full of emotion despite the stoicism of her features.

“The spell she cast bound Jacob’s life to Grandfather’s will. Jacob was brought into the house on a stretcher just after dawn, and within a half-hour...he was up on his own two feet again.”

Carewyn closed her eyes. She could still remember Jacob’s blazing, relieved smile as he barreled down the stairs and threw his arms around her, cradling her like a baby.

“My Wyn -- my sweet Wyn -- ”

Not long after that, though...Jacob’s arms were yanked away -- all of him was yanked away -- held back by Blaise and Claire and Pearl’s husbands, who all had work to together just to restrain Jacob as he fought to reach her, screaming and raging like a mad man --

“WYN! NO! GET OFF OF ME -- WYN! I WON’T LET YOU -- CAREWYN!”

Carewyn opened her eyes, the soft longing fading from her face completely and leaving a much more stony expression behind.

Bill himself, however, looked more troubled than ever.

“You said your brother left for War the same day you and he arrived at the Cromwell estate,” he whispered shakily. “Do you mean that, right after saving your brother’s life...Lord Cromwell immediately sent him off to War -- all while knowing how few men return home alive?”

Carewyn’s lips came together tightly.

“Grandfather sent him to the front, so that Jacob could start paying back the debt I owed him,” she said, her voice very soft and oddly distant. “After all...a man who wouldn’t die, so long as he willed it...would make an excellent soldier.”

Bill looked horrified.

“Then...” he whispered, “...then Jacob’s only alive because your grandfather decides whether he lives or dies? You only know your brother’s still alive after so many years at war...because Lord Cromwell is bound to him through magic, and he’s holding his life over your head?”

Carewyn withdrew her hand from Bill’s shoulder and turned away.

“Carewyn...that’s monstrous!” said Bill, and he was unable to keep his voice from rising. “I didn’t even know magic could do something like that -- but -- but that’s nothing, compared to...”

He couldn’t restrain himself. He actually threw an arm around Carewyn and pulled her into a hug from behind. The small ginger-haired woman stiffened like a startled cat.

“Bill?”

Carewyn looked up at him -- were those tears, in his eyes?

“Have you...never told anyone else, about this?” Bill murmured.

Carewyn tried to turn around, her blue eyes welling up with regret and pain. “Bill...”

She brought a hand through his hair, trying to soothe him the way she used to for Jacob.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I -- I didn’t mean to upset you -- I only wanted to explain why I’m not scared of magic...please forgive me.”

Bill closed his eyes to try to hold back both his righteous anger and his tears.

���Forgive you?” he repeated in a choked voice. “For what, trusting me with the truth?”

“For making you worry unnecessarily,” Carewyn said forcefully, trying to ignore how uncomfortably her stomach was squirming.

Bill opened his eyes, looking both flabbergasted and more upset than ever. “Unnecessarily?”

He roughly grabbed both of Carewyn’s shoulders and forced her to look up at him.

“Now you listen here, Carewyn Cromwell,” he said, taking on the sort of tone he only ever used with his younger siblings when they were being rowdy, “you may get to decide if you want to interact with me or not, or rely on me or not, or accept my help or not. But you don’t get to decide whether I worry about you or not. And from here on out...”

Bill’s brown eyes were blazing with resolve.

“...I’m going to worry about you. Because I hate the thought of someone feeling like anybody else worrying about them is somehow a problem.”

Carewyn was left speechless.

Bill’s face broke into a broad smile through his tears. “Until your brother’s back from the War, Carey, I’ll be looking after you for him -- no arguments, no dismissals, no saying you’re fine on your own. Got it?”

Carewyn looked at Bill, perfectly stunned. Then her gaze fell away toward the floor.

“...It sounds like...I really don’t get a choice in the matter, then,” she whispered.

“Nope,” said Bill, grinning broadly.

Carewyn was unable to fight back the weak smile prickling at the sides of her lips, nor the emotion flooding her eyes, even as she kept her face turned away.

“...And I suppose ‘Carey’...is a suggestion of a nickname you plan to give Charlie, for me?”

Bill’s eyes sparkled fondly. “Well, every one of my siblings has a nickname, in case you haven’t noticed.”

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 30

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, pt 3/?

A/N: Chapter 30 already! This chapter was not an easy one to edit as I was insecure about a lot of things, but hey, it's out now and that's what matters, right? I am so aware things are progressing a bit slowly right now but I feel it's kind of 'necessary' to have a bit of down time before things start going down. (Not that I'm capable of writing actual drama.) Well, at least we'll find out a bit more about Leo's past in this chapter.

Without a further ado, please enjoy and let me know what you think (those comments really help me!!!)

Words: exactly 3000 apparently :O

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

After breakfast Leo asked Calypso if she would like him to give her a tour around Waystation. She agreed, but Leo couldn’t help but raise his eyebrow at his family members when Georgina asked if she could go with the flatmates and Leo’s mothers told her that they needed Georgie’s help in some Christmas chores.

“What?” Josephine asked innocently when she noticed Leo staring.

“I dunno, tía Jo. It just kinda seems like you don’t want Georgie to hang out with us,” he stated bluntly.

“That’s not accurate at all, Leo,” she denied. “I’d gladly let Georgina go with you but we really do need her help around here. Christmas isn’t coming if we all just slack off, right, Emmie?”

“I agree, dear. I haven’t even…” Emmie’s hesitance only deepened Leo’s suspicions. “...hmmm, taken care of our mistletoes yet.”

“Mistletoes?” Leo crossed his arms over his chest, briefly daring to wonder what would happen if he and Calypso were under one of those plants at the same time. He shook his head to dispel such an idea.

“Didn’t we agree that we don’t need stuff like that? You don’t even like Christmas!”

“I may agree that this holiday is way too commercial these days, but since Emmie has some mistletoes growing in her greenhouse anyway, I don’t see why we wouldn’t use them,” Jo commented. “It’s nice that Georgie gets to experience some of the old traditions even if we grownups don’t care about them.”

“Whatever,” Leo rolled his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t win that battle.

“Um, if you need extra hands,” Calypso joined the conversation, addressing Jo and Emmie, “I don’t have to go with Leo. I’d love to help too.”

Leo felt a twinge of disappointment because of Calypso’s suggestion. His insecure side yelled that maybe he had misread Calypso’s intentions all along.

“Oh, no, no!” Emmie denied immediately. “You are our guest; we want you to take it easy and enjoy your stay here. I bet Leo’s tour is a lot more fun than us peeling way too many potatoes and carrots for the casserole.”

“I wouldn’t mind peeling potatoes,” Calypso mumbled but Leo’s mothers pretended they didn’t even hear that. The flatmates simply had to accept that they wouldn’t have a chaperone - except maybe Festus - on their tour.

Once the two of them were outside, Leo’s thoughts went back to the time when he had first arrived at Waystation. Back then, he had been only 15, having just escaped from his latest foster home, which had been located far away in New Mexico. His foster family there had hidden their opinion on him very badly, giving him sly remarks about his looks and telling him to speak clearer English even though Leo’s English had always been fine, thanks to his real mother allowing him to learn both Spanish and English as a small kid. They had also made him do the hard work such as carrying heavy loads while the other foster kid of the family got the easy tasks. And when he had come home from school with bad grades, the foster parents had commented: “why do we even bother with you?”

At some point Leo had simply had enough, and by selling some of the few belongings he had he had managed to gather just enough money for one plane ticket and so he flew to Indianapolis without telling anything to his foster family.

After living on the streets and successfully dodging the authorities for a couple of weeks, the police finally found him and contacted the local social workers. Thankfully, after Leo put all his convincing skills to use, they agreed to not send him back to New Mexico, instead finding him a new foster family nearby. Leo hadn’t had high expectations because he had been in at least 6 different foster homes since his mother’s death and none of them had been a good match for him. Some had been abusive, some racist, some ignorant, some had had kids who were bullies, some had had alcohol issues… What had been common for them all was that none of them had treated him the way they should have.

That was why Leo had picked some bad habits too; he wanted to drown his feelings somehow and he ended up stealing small amounts of money from his foster family so he could buy alcohol from his older homeless ‘friends’. He had hated how it made him feel afterwards, but it had been the only way he had known how to deal with his issues. At some point he had even had suicidal thoughts because the guilt and trauma from his childhood got so bad he woke up covered in sweat after the same old fire filled nightmare almost every night. And going from foster home to foster home and feeling like none of those people cared what he really did with his life definitely didn’t help him regain his feeling of self worth. He had no future, no plans, no real friends or family and nowhere to go.

Luckily, during his worst phase in his last foster home someone from his homeless group mentioned having a relative in Indiana and that he was hoping to move there at some point in hopes of getting a new start for his life. That idea sparked something in Leo’s mind and when he started planning his big escape, Indianapolis was the first place that he thought of.

When he finally met Jo and Emmie, he was surprised. Seeing them spending time with their then 5-year-old adoptive daughter, he could tell that these women genuinely cared about the little girl and did everything for her wellbeing. Not only that, Jo was a mechanic just like Leo’s real mother and they had also other things in common. With some patience and showing that they cared, simply by making sure that Leo ate, rested and had something to do with his time other than dwelling on his sad past, they eventually won him over. And when Leo discovered thanks to Jo’s help that he himself had the skills to become a mechanic someday as well, he finally had a goal to reach and studying wasn’t quite as big a struggle for him anymore.

Soon, however, Leo became afraid that Jo and Emmie wouldn’t want to keep him around because he still had some bad days when he literally had to be dragged from his bed. He was also worried that maybe the women had heard what he had done in his past and were silently judging him. Instead, they surprised him by telling him that they wanted to officially adopt him much like Georgina because he was a part of their family now. As an added bonus they assigned him for therapy sessions, which really helped and the days when he didn’t want to do anything became less and less. Leo knew he was still a work in progress but this family had helped him so much and he had found his purpose, his home, at Waystation.

Calypso had naturally noticed Leo’s silence so eventually she asked:

“Are you OK? You’re being unusually quiet.”

“Oh, yeah, just dandy!” Leo exclaimed, trying to act more like his usual self. “I was just thinking about the times when I first moved in here.”

“Really? Do you want to tell me more about that?” Calypso asked curiously.

“I guess it won’t hurt.” Leo shrugged. “I don’t remember if I’ve told you that I was in a lot of foster homes before I got here. Well, my last foster parents were really shitty people and I was this close to… I dunno, doing something desperate. So I decided to just leave and ended up here in Indianapolis. I, um, was homeless for a bit but when the social workers got me into their hands they found me a new family, Jo and Emmie. At first they were supposed to only foster me for a time being but they ended up adopting me instead. I… haven’t told this to anyone, but they probably saved my life by doing that. The Leo from that time was far from the Super-Sized McSizzle that I am now,” he attempted to joke, but Calypso ignored that. Instead, she said:

“I’m sorry you had to go through that… but I’m glad you opened up about it to me.” Leo’s heart did an extra jump when he saw Calypso smiling at him supportingly. He would never get used to that. “And I’m glad Jo and Emmie adopted you.”

“Yeah, me too… When I first saw the place I was like, ‘wow, I wish I could stay here’. Obviously the people here are awesome - they are my family - but that wasn’t the only thing the 15-year-old me cared about. The cars and other machines Jo was fixing? So cool. I had only seen something like that at my childhood home and the nostalgia hit me like ‘boom’ right away.”

“I should have known it was the machines that convinced you to stay here,” Calypso teased, but Leo knew her already too well to get provoked by that.

“Nah. I mean, they’re neat and all, but Jo and Emmie did the actual convincing.”

“Okay, I believe you. So, was Jo’s garage what made you want to become a mechanical engineer?” Calypso asked.

“I guess the spark was always there but it took me a while to convince myself that I should try to pursue that goal. But when I started going to school again regularly – long story, don’t ask – I noticed that the sciences were easy for me, I was also decent enough at drawing – which of course helps with the blueprints and stuff – and Jo let me try fixing some of the simpler machines she had and turned out I wasn’t half bad. It was Jo and Emmie who kept pushing me to apply for the uni, though, because they believed in me more than I did. I’m thankful that they did it but… sometimes I still doubt...” Leo hadn’t talked about his insecurities even to his adoptive mothers so he felt that the fact that he was able to open up about it to Calypso was a big deal.

“I’ve seen you fix countless items,” Calypso said slowly. “I’ve noticed that you’re always… so different when you’re fiddling with your machines. More relaxed. Calmer. Surer of what you do. And your eyes sparkle and you hum some old school rock song while you work and I can just tell that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Leo had to avert his eyes from her because he was afraid he would do something stupid like cry if he looked at her too long in that moment. No matter how encouraging his family, friends and the therapist were… it was still hard to get used to the compliments. And if he was honest to himself, he probably valued Calypso’s opinion more than anyone else’s at that point.

“Wow… umm… I don’t know how to answer that…” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“A simple thank you would probably do,” Calypso replied. “But know that I mean what I say. Now, how about you show me that famous garage?”

Leo did as he was told. He introduced Calypso to all the tools and machinery they used to fix whatever item the customer happened to bring in. He had a feeling that Calypso probably didn’t have any idea what he was talking about half the time because he tended to get very technical with the terms when he got excited, but she still seemed content listening to him. At least she wasn’t telling him to stop, which was definitely a plus.

To Leo’s surprise, Calypso went to the table where he and Jo used to draw their blueprints and asked him if she could see how he did it because she hadn’t seen his blueprints before. He complied, taking a pencil and a piece of blank paper from the stack and looking at Calypso questioningly.

“What do you want me to draw, then? I may have some experience on this but even I need some ideas first…”

“You can draw whatever you like. How about Festus?” Calypso requested.

“Festus?” Leo tapped the pencil against his chin for a moment, considering Calypso’s request. “Hmm, as you wish, Sunshine.”

He started making fast, swift motions on the paper and it didn’t take him very long to finish the sketch. Sure, the lines were a bit rough, but Calypso told him she was very impressed by how accurately he remembered even the little details, such as a dark spot on Festus’ back, how the tail curved when he was happy, and how he was missing a tiny piece of the tip of his left ear.

Leo felt a bit embarrassed by the praise. “It just comes with me hanging out with him so much. Nothing more to it, really.” He looked at the sketch for a moment. “Hold on, I feel like this is missing something. Can you look towards that window for a moment?”

“What, why?” Calypso asked, but turned anyway.

“Just adding something real quick,” Leo replied and started sketching again. He wondered if it was the lighting of the room but he thought Calypso’s cheeks seemed a bit darker than usual and she kept looking at the floor shyly. When he realized that he’d probably feel the same way if she was drawing him, he himself got flustered and decided to try to finish the drawing as quickly as possible. Within minutes he had drawn her next to Festus, playing with him, wearing the same holiday sweater and jeans she currently was.

“Can I see?” Calypso asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Leo gave the picture to her. “It’s not detailed or anything but I tried.”

Calypso kept staring at it for a moment. “Leo… this looks great! I mean, I don’t think I am that pretty but I am quite amazed that you managed to do this that fast!”

Leo wanted to say that there was no way the picture did her justice but he knew that would be a never ending debate so instead he told her: “It’s the experience, Sunshine. When you draw hundreds of blueprints you learn to be fast.”

Calypso turned her attention to the drawing again. “Can I get it?” she asked after a while.

“Why?”

“Because Festus looks cute, you weirdo. That’s a good enough reason, right?”

“Fine, you can have it. I’m not sure where I’d put it anyway.” Leo shrugged. He wasn’t sure why Calypso possibly hanging the picture on her wall made him feel a bit weird. In a good way, though.

Once the two of them left the garage, Leo pointed at a smaller building next to the ‘main’ one. A couple of pointy ears were peeking from the upstairs windows. “That’s where our foster animals live. I think the kid me wished on some level that I could have a pet but my mom could never afford one… but Jo and Emmie have been fostering rescue cats and dogs even before I got here. One of them was Festus’ mum; she was pregnant when she arrived here. When she had her puppies, I noticed that one of them was a bit of an outsider and we instantly formed a bond. Jo and Emmie allowed him to stay here even though he sure would have had adopters.”

“That was really sweet of them,” Calypso commented. “Can we see who’s in there right now?”

“Sure but we should probably let Emmie know about it because she’s pretty strict about who can go in. She may ask us to wear ‘bunny suits’; some of the animals may be sick and we don’t wanna spread the bugs around.”

“No problem, let’s go see her then.”

When Emmie heard what Leo and Calypso were about to do, she promised to stop her Christmas chores for a while so she could show them (mainly Calypso) around in the rescue house. Currently she was fostering two young puppies who had been found on the streets without their mother, a mother cat with her 4 kittens who were getting close to their adoption age, and an older cat with some kidney issues who seemed to however adore the little kittens.

Leo was watching Calypso’s reactions closely as Emmie was introducing her to the kittens. Soon one of the braver kittens climbed on the girl’s lap, giving her a tiny ‘meow’ and then started nuzzling against her sleeve.

“Aww, look Leo! He loves me,” Calypso exclaimed, smiling widely as the kitten started purring loudly on her lap while she pet him. ‘He’s not the only one,’ Leo thought in his mind. Aloud he asked: “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I guess because I’ve never really handled cats so I didn’t know how they’d react to me…” Calypso noted more seriously. But then the happiness returned to her face. “You know, this one reminds me of you! He also has long, black hair like you and fierce eyes.”

“Fierce?” Leo raised his eyebrow. “That’s what you think of me?”

Calypso seemed to want to explain but with Emmie in the room she didn’t go to details. “Um, maybe? Hey, look! Another one is coming!”

This time a small ginger kitten was approaching her and Calypso extended her arm so the kitten could sniff her. The group kept making small talk about the cats in the room and continued snuggling them, but Leo’s eyes were on Calypso the whole time. He could see how happy she was about such a simple thing as kittens and it made him feel lighter, warmer again, even though he had just remembered some very bad times a few moments earlier. Maybe all of it had been meant to happen, he wondered briefly. After all, it led him here, to his family… and Calypso.

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and villains

Roman Castile: Passion and duty

Roman finds that his different passions seem to get in each other's way for now. But one day, he will find a balance.

“Ugh! I am done!” Roman exclaimed relieved, barely hearing the hissed warning from the librarian. Homework had been draining. Sure they’d had fun. Especially when it came to teasing Virgil about his pronunciation when they worked on Spanish.

Still Roman was ready to do literally anything else.

“Give me a sec, I have to finish this thing for English,” Virgil muttered absentmindedly. Roman knew that Virgil had rewritten that particular assignment two times already.

“Want me to read it trough for you?” Roman offered. Maybe hearing someone say that it was good would be enough to stop him from second guessing himself again.

“You don’t…”  Virgil started, somehow looking guilty.

“We’re here to help each other Virgil. If I didn’t want to help you I wouldn’t offer. I thrive on being of help to my friends. It’s no trouble,” he assured him. Virgil offered him a small smile and a nod in response. “Alright. You can read it when I’m done,” he allowed.

Roman took peace with that and opened his notebook to start doodling.

He had a few ideas for some more shirt designs. He’d enjoyed making his ‘coming out’ shirt. Then there was the Halloween party and every other social event this year has to offer where he had to slay. Junior year was a year to be noticed. Nothing wrong with putting down some ideas in advance. He just might come across the perfect outfit.

“Seems I’m not the only one who can draw up some clothes,” Virgil noted and Roman nearly fell of his chair when he jumped at his sudden proximity.

“Will you stop that!?” A thing about Virgil Roman had learned over the last week. He always seemed to pop up out of nowhere. One minute he’s gushing over the latest Disney trailer with André and suddenly Virgil stands next to him giving his two cents. It was terrifying.

“Not a chance,” Virgil chuckled as he picked up Roman’s sketches.

“This looks good though… You ever thought of becoming a fashion designer?”

Roman’s eyes widened. Making amazing outfits for a living? He could make a whole ‘wear your pride’ line and… Oh… Oh…!

“You are a genius!” Roman exclaimed. He’d had no idea what he wanted to do with his future, aside from hero work, but now the idea was brought up he wanted nothing else. Fashion designer, superhero, actor, maybe also Mr. Castile-Anker. That was a future he could look forward to!

Virgil chuckled. “It’s the least I can do. I sent in the designs like you said… I’m kind of excited.”

Roman beamed at him. “I’m sure next time you see DreamPrince on the news he’ll be wearing your design.” He was. He’d been shown some alternative designs by Manifestor and found Virgil’s drawing among them and immediately declared that that was the one.

As he’d told Roman, he’d changed a few things. He’d shown him on Wednesday to get his stamp of approval. Roman had gushed unapologetically, because he knew he’d have to tone it back a bit in front of the team.

Which had been hard.

Tonight he’d be taking it for a test run and he’d make sure to be seen by people and cameras.

“We’ll see,” Virgil smiled as he pushed his laptop with his assignment towards Roman.

Roman read it, dropping the subject without problem.

Virgil was easy to be friends with and he’d quickly learned to read his moods.

During lunch Virgil usually sat himself a little bit away from the group when he felt the need to just focus on his music and sketch a little before heading back to class. He was sarcastic, witty and could dish it out about as well as he could take it.

He was also very guarded emotionally, which Roman could understand, but whenever they were just the two  of them, Virgil opened up some more. He’d learned about Virgil’s soon to be stepdad and the admittedly adorable meet cute he’d been a part of.

He knew that Virgil’s dad had found them a new home and they’d moved in just that week.

He learned that Virgil was mature and his dad’s only wingman which they both agreed was super awkward but also hilarious.

Roman had joked that Virgil might end up being his father’s best man. But apparently there was a family friend ‘uncle Thomas’ who might get that position.

Virgil had gone out with another girl that week. Anna, who’d had English with him last year or something. Virgil had listened patiently, but relatively unaffected to her asking him out and arranged another semi-date at the music store for the next evening. Luckily nothing came from it again. Roman asked him why he kept saying yes to people he barely knew. Virgil explained that he had missed out on enough chances to befriend others. So the way he saw it he’d at the very least get a friend out of it. Roman kind of took comfort in that. It didn’t sound like Virgil was trying to get a girlfriend or a boyfriend right now. Just trying to socialize. Roman had reminded Virgil to watch his boundaries though. He wouldn’t want him to push himself out of fear he’d be missing out.

One more thing he learned about Virgil: he was overly critical of himself.

“Well, I think you can hand this in with confidence Virge,” Roman concluded as he returned Virgil’s laptop to him.

“So… I recall something about pizza? I’m starving!” he grinned.

Virgil chuckled and lead the way. Soon they were sat at a table with their orders and they were talking about everything and nothing. It was great. And Roman was so close to asking Virgil out but…

“So… Um… There’s this… Shoot wait a minute,” Roman got up and picked up his phone.

“Si mama…?” he asked curiously after seeing the caller ID.

“Darling. I know you are out with your friend. But I wanted you to know we’re headed to the university now,” his mother informed him. The university… Wait. “Que?” Roman looked at his watch incredulously. He was going to be late. Unless he left right now that is.

“Perdona! I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and dug through his wallet for some money.

“So sorry Virge! Time got away from us I’m afraid. I swear I intended to give you that ride… Can you call your dad… You know what? Just use the change to take the bus or something alright? My treat! I’ll call you later!” he promised as he tossed down a few bills that should more than cover the tab and the tip before rushing away.

How was it so late already?

He sprinted around a few corners and found a spot to get changed. BS had explained about the sciency stuff behind his costume change, but all Roman really cared about was that he basically had a magical boy transformation. Sure he could sit there and let the tech do its thing, but it was much more fun to make up a cool transformation sequence.

First, hair. He retrieved a lip balm like object and applied the substance to his hairline. He tucked the balm away and with one smooth movement of his hand he styled and recolored his hair. Instead of parted in the middle with regal waves it was flicked to the back, save for a single rebellious strand dangling down his forehead. Instead of a deep ash brown it was warm chestnut in color.

Then he took a tini metallic bead from a ring on his finger and tapped it against his temple, before he swiped his hand in front of his eyes as his mask placed itself securely on his face, changing his eye color in the process. He tapped his wrists together in front of his chest and brought them down with force, feeling his blazer and shirt get replaced by the skintight suit. He tapped his right heal against his left before taking another power position and finishing his costume change.

How cool was his life?!

He created a platform to lift himself to the roof and sprinted towards the university. The GTH was in it’s basement. As he made his way there he started to think over asking Virgil out again.

Maybe, now wasn’t the time. Virgil was clearly still upset about the whole Janus thing. He didn’t say it but Roman could tell. And he didn’t want Virgil to think for even a second that Roman’s crush was anything less than genuine, he had noticed that Virgil still had trouble believing their friendship was real at times. Not to mention that starting a relationship with someone while he was still figuring out how to balance out superhero and civilian life was clearly a bad idea. He couldn’t even ask him out without being interrupted by his other life.

So, he'd wait until he had his life in order and he was sure Virgil was ready. There was definitely some kind of connection between them. And Roman was willing to wait until the time was right…

He knew he was being a coward, but his friendship with Virgil was so fragile.

He entered the basement campus with little hassle and dropped of his bag in his personal locker, making sure to lock it. If anyone with ill intent got in here they could easily find out his identity with it's contents and Roman didn’t want his name out like that. Not yet at least.

He hurried to the training hall, threw open the doors and slid inside.

“Your prince has returned!” he exclaimed, doing a pretty good job at pretending he hadn't just sprinted the whole way there.

“Has he now?” BS asked, apparently in a bad mood today.

“Oh come now big S, the boy is just excited for his present! I would be too if I got a new costume made for me by a secret admirer,” Sweets offered with a calming hand on BS' shoulder. Sweets was an empath. He could share his emotions and those of others, perfect match for someone who wants or needs to keep his calm.

But what sweets said made Roman rather flustered. “I don't think DreamPrince has had enough appearances to already gain such attentions. Whoever did this just couldn't stand to look at this any longer.” Roman gestured to his current costume.

“Speaking of which…” he held out his hand bouncing on his feet in excitement. He was supposed to meet the chief of police today and he wanted to look presentable.

Manifestor chuckled from his spot on the desk. “Give the boy his stuff. He's been looking forward to this day for the past four years.”

BS sighed and handed Roman a small box, which the young hero snatched up before rushing to the dressing room.

He turned his suit off and took off the containment units. He opened the box and switched the old units for the new ones. The bracelets were more comfortable and adjusted to his skin tone, the metal bead was replaced with two skin colored stickers he applied to his temples.

“Let’s do this,” Roman smirked excitedly.

“To adventure!” he called out as he crossed his arms and tapped at his temples while simultaneously clicking his wrists together. At the same time he tapped his right toe behind his left heel and brought his ankles together. He struck a power pose, facing the full length mirror and grinned excitedly. Virgil had added an insignia on his cape and golden trimming in the final design. There'd been a few options for his emblem and Roman had chosen the shield with a castle by the sea with the sun shining down on him. He looked quite dashing.

He left the dressing room and handed the box back to BS with an elegant gesture.

BS wasn't amused. Sweets and Manifestor on the other found it hilarious.

“So? What do you think?” Roman asked as he turned around to show off the end result.

A loud ‘bing' announced a message from his family watching from the observation room.

“Gaaaaaaay!” Roman rolled his eyes good naturedly. Remus was a fan.

“Stay away from Planes!” the next one read. Roman chuckled. He had asked Virgil about the cape, considering he’d expected someone as cautious as him to heed Edna Mode's advice.

Apparently Virgil had intended the Cape to be an addition for official events. So ‘Prince’ would look good on camera. He'd also pointed out that it would look badass for the prince to un-claps his Cape before a fight. He'd had a point and Roman actually loved it.

“You look very handsome darling.”

“Thanks mom!” Roman called out.

Then two beeps came from a device on BS wrist. He looked down and relaxed, tapping away at a holographic screen, turning up the intensity of his shadow. “The chief is here,” he announced.

Roman raised an eyebrow, that was not what BS had been so tense about. Something in his private life maybe? If that was the case he'd never find out.

Roman had no time to worry about that though. The door opened and in walked the police chief. A small but commanding African American woman. It was something in the way she walked that made Roman want to stand at attention. And so he did. He wasn't the only one.

“DreamPrince, at your service ma’am,” Roman introduced himself respectfully.

“So you are what all the fuss is about?” she asked as she looked Roman up and down.

Chief Davies pursed her lips before nodding to herself. “I’ve read your file, you’re quite the prodigy aren’t you?” she asked.

Roman chuckled a little awkwardly. “I’ve just been training from a young age, that’s all.” Most gifted didn’t realize their talent until they were well in their teens.

“Good answer. I have no time to stroke an adolescent ego. We’ve got work to do.”

Chief Davies turned to Manifestor. “You got the files I sent?”

Manifestor nodded hurriedly. “Yes. I had no time to review them though.”

“I’ll walk you through it,” she announced dismissively. The leader of Roman’s training team nodded and tapped at something on his wrist. The screen that had shown the messages from Roman’s family earlier was now filled with mugshots.

The men looked dangerous. Roman shifted nervously. “You… you want my help apprehending these men?” he asked, trying not to show how frightening it seemed.

“God No!” Roman hid his relieve. “These men are all in jail already, with iron clad cases keeping them there for a long time. You think I’m going to send some rookie after hardcore criminals? No offense, but you are still a baby,” Roman blushed at that and focused back on the pictures.

Wait a minute. “I know that guy! Remember at the end of my first week? I spotted some tugs bothering that kid and tossed a rock at them?”

“And by some miracle you weren’t found when said tugs came looking for you,” BS added through gritted teeth. Still upset at Roman's initial recklessness.

“I wasn’t the only one they were looking for,” Roman insisted. He’d been so sure he hadn’t been alone that night. But BS claimed the would have known if anyone else had been there.

He never went after the tugs after they left the alley. BS insisting he was done with back alleys for the night.

And now those guys were apparently behind bars?

“Next slide please!” Davies called out.

A picture of a ziplock bag with pictures, a USB stick and a note of cut out letters that said ‘your turn’.

“For almost a year now we’ve been getting mysterious packages like this. Pictures, audio and video recordings. Every last one had one of these men incriminating themselves. It’s like whoever delivers these stands right next to them, but never gets caught taking pictures or carrying a wire. I have a small task force on the case who have dubbed them ‘The Phantom’. We are keeping this as in house as we can. Once the public hears about the Phantom, we’ll lose the most valuable asset we’ve ever had. Plus until now we weren’t sure if they were a sensible vigilante or a mobster who was taking out competition in a very clever way. Given what you just said I’d be inclined towards the former. They might have some sort of gift that hides them well enough to get away with spying. But right now, they are putting themselves in danger.” Davies turned towards Roman.

“Keep an eye out, see if you can spot him during your patrol this evening. And if you do, get him on board with the program.”

“Prince did not go through all that training to be your recruitment poster boy!” BS snapped to Roman's surprise. That was the most emotional response he's seen from BS ever. Aside from when he scolded Roman on his reckless behavior.

Davies glared at BS, looking quite intimidating, despite barely reaching to his chest.

“Now don't go all noble on me BrainStorm. What? Did your heart grow three sizes while I wasn't looking? Is there suddenly room for more than one other person there?”

Roman knew that this was a threat. Davies knew BS’ true identity, where he worked, who he cared for. She could ruin whatever he had built in an instant.

Roman often wondered what kind of life BS had outside the facility. Did he have a partner? A family? Did they know about his past at all.

A few seconds ticked by with no one daring to do so much as breathe.

Then Davies relaxed and stepped back. “I'm no monster BrainStorm. I wouldn't ask some rookie to deal with this if I hadn’t tried everything else already. I send in my agents and even called in other gifted. All we got out of that was this,” she gestured and Manifestor showed the next image. A note in the same style as the previous one that said ‘no babysit!’

“Our profiler thinks they are young. So maybe your prince won't seem as threatening. They might've had his back once before already. If this Phantom were someone you cared for, would you rather we left them be, or would you drag their noble behind here yourself to give them proper gear and back up?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, BS had nothing to counter with. Roman imagined Phantom being one of his friends, or even Janus and the answer remained the same.

“I will do what I can,” he vowed before lifting his chin and facing the fierce chief head on. “But ma'am, I don't appreciate you threatening my mentor like that.”

BS had stood up for him, it was only right for him to return the favor.

Davies chuckled. “Just when I started to worry you were only brawn and a pretty face. You can be smart too huh? And you’ve got guts. You just might have what it takes kid. Now. I have places to be. Keep me updated, and don't lose this.” Roman accepted the watch he was handed with a confused frown.

“My people will call if we need you. Please use that brain and return the favor?”

With that she left. Well… that was intense.

Roman put on the watch and saw that it had a frequency displayed on it instead of time. He also spotted two buttons. One blue and one red. It didn't take much to realize that one was a panic button and the other was to make it so the cops could hear him. He wondered if it would connect to the nearest patrol car or to Davies directly.

He hoped he’d never have to find out.

“Well… time to show the city their hero is ready for action.”

 It had been a pleasant evening so far. He'd stopped a few shoplifters, broke up a fight or two and dodged a few reporters, though he let them snap a good picture of his new outfit.

Now the sun was down however and he was making his way to the back alleys.

“Looking for a fight is foolish Prince!” BS growled through his earpiece.

But Roman wasn't looking for a fight. He was looking for someone who'd gotten him out of at least one pickle.

He ignored BS as he landed on a roof, overlooking the city using his sight. He didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but it was his only plan.

Suddenly he spotted something strange and unusual. There was an energy, a few blocks ahead. But it was impossible for him to really see it. Like he was looking at it trough glasses with strong prescriptions.

He rushed towards it and found a gang of criminals with violently swirling auras. He knew what this meant. They were going to hurt someone.

“Send back up to my location,” he instructed before turning the receiver off. He needed to focus.

“I say we attack now! They are week! We can take them down easily.” A shorter guy with energy like glass shards insisted.

“Boss says we have a truce until the rat is found,” a giant of a man stated calmly, though his energy betrayed how much he wanted to go with the first guy's plan.

Were they talking about Phantom?

“What rat!? Those idiots just bragged to the wrong crowd.” The first voice shot back. Phantom was becoming a bit of a ghost story it seemed. Some who believed, judging by the shudder that went through the other men's auras at the mere mention of them. But clearly not everyone was convinced.

“Oh and they gave out pictures as well? Did a little livestream? We're not safe until this rat is lynched,” the tall man pointed out tensely. He was a believer. And he wanted Phantom dead. Not good.

Roman studied the tugs and to his relief he spotted they were all armed. Weird thing to be happy about. But it meant he had probable cause to interfere.

He jumped down, slowing his descent just so that he didn't hurt himself on the landing without sacrificing the cool factor.

“Do you gentlemen have permits for those weapons?” he asked as he rose up to his full length facing them fearlessly.

“what the…?”

“It's that Prince clown!” Rude.

The tall guy, the leader probably, silenced the group with a gesture and smiled, his anxious energy almost completely disappearing. He'd found something to vent on. “Sure kid. Got mine right here.”

Roman flung his cape in front of him and manifested a gelatinous shield around himself as the leader pulled out his gun and fired several rounds at him. The tugs wouldn't see it. But it was there, and it caught the bullets slowing them down until they were harmless, making them fall to the ground when they met with the fabric.

“Well now you just pissed me off. This is brand new!” he complained as he dropped both cape and shield.

“I suppose you won't surrender peacefully?” he deduced. The criminals all readied their weapons. Seriously? Did they not get that he was essentially bulletproof?

He sighed as he took off his cape and hung it on a water pipe that ran down the side of the building.

“Fine,” he sighed and then he amped up his speed a bit while shielding himself from the rain of bullets heading his way. He used the gelatin shield because he didn't want to risk the bullets ricocheting and injuring someone. Especially the gifted he was sure was still watching the whole thing.

It wasn't hard to disarm the criminals. He even managed to knock a few to the ground. But there were at least two who'd gone down without him even touching them. And he would’ve sworn he saw a figure move between him and a tug once or twice to block a blow. He couldn't really see the other hero. It was an odd sensation. But he could feel his presence better and better and soon he was adapting his moves to those of the Phantom. Together they took out the whole group. Though to the villains it would seem like he'd done it by himself. He stood victorious over the leader, a pile of disassembled guns behind him and sirens lighting up the alley.

He twisted his foot to show off his white boot with gold accents. “So… how does it feel to get your butt kicked by a guy in heels?” he wondered playfully before looking up towards the presence and winking in acknowledgment.

“Good job Dream Prince. We've got it from here.” Roman turned to the cops and bowed to them

“It's my pleasure to be of assistance to the police of this fine city.” Then, while turning around, he made a gesture that could be taken as a ‘goodbye’, or as a ‘follow me’.

He was glad to notice that the presence seemed to follow him. He found a fire escape and floated himself to the roof it led to.

He turned to face his hopefully soon to be partner in crime fighting.

He could hear the clanging of someone climbing the metal fire escape. And while he still couldn't quite make out the figure that reached the roof he saw his reflection in a pool of water left behind by the rain earlier that day.

An unfortunate weakness, but so long as no one knew, no one would be looking for it. In order to be a hero, no one could know Phantom really existed. Was that why the authorities were kept at a distance? Why Phantom never made introductions despite having crossed paths at least once before?

He stepped forward with a bow. “Greetings Phantom. I must thank you for the assistance. Both just now and three months ago. I am Dream Prince, he/him if you please. A pleasure to officially meet you.”

A distorted chuckle made him look up. He could see Phantom much better now. He was dressed in Male coded clothes, though that was no guarantee. The hero outfit was simple. A black t-shirt, boots and denims, paired with a black coat that reached down to his calves and had the collar popped up. He looked really cool… but Roman couldn't make sense of his head. He was looking right at him he could see it, but his brain couldn't identify a thing.

It was so weird.

“Phantom huh?” His voice was a strange deep echoing sound. The distortion was pretty spooky if he was honest, but he wasn't afraid. Phantom was on his side.

“Sure you can call me that. He/him… mind telling me what that was about? I thought you officials weren't let of your leash unless you could be responsible enough to not get yourself killed?”

Roman cocked his brow. “Says the guy who has half the criminal underworld out for his blood,” he reminded him. Phantom looked away. Clearly he knew Roman had a point.

“Do you have something against the program?” His tone had been oddly bitter.

“No I…”  Phantom took in a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m just pissed at the cops for sending you, I guess.” He sure sounded upset. And Roman could understand that. Here Phantom was, doing his part and all the cops could do in return was bother him At least as far as the young vigilante could tell. But then why…?

“Yet you chose to follow me up here?” Roman pressed. That didn’t make any sense. Phantom had shaken off his ‘babysits’ before. What made Roman special?

“Um… Well… I just…” Phantom stammered. Roman wondered why. Was he bad with confrontation? Social interaction in general? Or had Roman said something that hit a nerve somehow?

“You interrupted my stake out!” Phantom blurted out all of a sudden.

“Do you know how long it takes to work my way up the ranks? First I have to find a low level runner, then I follow him to his boss, that guy to his and so up the ladder I go. I was getting real close to the big guy of this group. And now…” Oh… Well Roman could understand how that would be frustrating.

“I apologize,” he said sincerely with a small bow. “I merely intended to help. They were talking about killing you.” Surely he could understand that he could not stand by after hearing that.

“And now there is a price on your head! The leader of that little club is like two steps away from the big boss. They won’t be happy with you taking him in.”

Well… He had a point. But Roman had back up. It would be rather stupid of the mob to come after a hero with government sanctioning. And these guys would go behind bars for a long time right? “You got dirt on them?” he asked. If the guns weren’t enough then surely whatever Phantom  had gleaned from his stakeouts would be sufficient. Right?

“Yes… But that’s not the point. They have no clue about me. Not really. But you are out in the open. This is not your kind of mission Royal pain.” Oh, he had nicknames huh? It was an insult, but Roman didn’t mind witty banter. Especially if it came from a place of care. And Roman was starting to think it did.

“And now that you are out, you can’t expect me to hold your hand any longer…”

Roman crossed his arms and smirked catching the implications of what Phantom just said.

“You’ve been looking out for me all summer huh?” he guessed.

Phantom scoffed and probably rolled his eyes. While Roman still couldn’t quite see it, he would bet his entire Disney collection on it.

“It’s not like I came looking for you.” Phantom snapped. And Roman believed him.

“Still… Thank you…” he was going to say more but then he heard a beep in his ear followed by a loud voice. “Prince! Answer this instant!”

“Ow!” Roman exclaimed annoyed, reflexively reaching for his ear though it wouldn’t help much. He pressed the button to talk to BS. “One. Loud. Two. Rude! I am in the middle of something! And did you seriously remotely reactivate my com?”

He would demand a new com that couldn’t do that or he’d refuse to wear one period. What if he needed to concentrate right now? What if he was in the middle of tense negotiations or being told delicate information. As a matter of fact. This situation right here was delicate. One wrong move and Phantom might bolt. And he might not come along next time he found him. And even if he couldn’t get him to join the program, he wanted Phantom to know he had an ally in him. Someone to talk to, confide in, count on if he didn’t have anyone else.

“You do not turn off your com while going into a gunfight! It’s moronic to go in alone!”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I am fine, not a scratch on me.” He wasn’t going to mention that he wasn’t alone exactly. Phantom had never consented to BS and the rest of his team knowing.

“I’ll call you when I’m done here.” And this time he took the com out of his ear. BS could yell at him later.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “My mentor is… intense at times.” In a cold and distant way.

“Mentor?” Phantom asked.

“One of the people helping me practice my powers, test my limits. Comes with the program. It’s not just a babysit and a nice suit,” he joked casually.

“Oh…” Phantom’s tone was odd. It made Roman want to come closer and offer comfort. He didn’t though. They weren’t at that point yet. Not by a long shot.

“Listen, I admit I was sent by the chief. But I didn’t come here to recruit you. I wanted to thank you and tell you… If you ever need someone to talk to, to help you figure something out… I’d be more than happy to oblige. No need to tell me your name or anything about yourself,” he vowed as he reached out his hand. Phantom hesitated for a few moments before bridging the distance and offering his own.

Roman grinned and grabbed it for a firm shake. “I’ll see you next time,” he assured his fellow hero before letting go and turning around to finish his patrol.

Progress was made. Not much, but still.

He just might’ve made a new friend.

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

End of this part meet Virgil and read his story.

Masterlist

[divinespill]

dark magic in those deep brown eyes

Pairing: Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma

Characters: Jonathan Crane, Edward Nygma, Diedre Vance, Nina Damfino

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Read on Ao3 here.

—

“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d let me bring the girls along,” Edward sighs.

“I don’t believe even Query and Echo could rein in your stupid decisions.” Jonathan replies coldly.

“I see, so this is my fault now!”

“You’re the one who got us locked in the fucking closet,” Jonathan snaps.

“What else was I supposed to do? It was this or Arkham,” Edward replies, wrinkling his nose. “You really should be thanking me. I don’t know how I managed to fit us both in here, what with your ridiculous limbs.”

“How sweet of you,” Jonathan says dryly. He doesn’t argue the fact though, most likely because he does in fact take up most of the space thanks to his height, arms crossed lest they hit the cold piping that runs along the back wall.

“You’d think the Gotham Museum of Antiquities would have bigger storage rooms, given their grandiosity in everything else,” Edward muses. “Alas.”

Edward had teamed up with the Scarecrow to take over the museum for logical reasons; the doctor wanted to test a new strain of his toxin, and Edward wanted the new emerald on display that had been unveiled last week. Jonathan had scoffed at him for that, of course. Anyhow, it had all been going quite smoothly until Batman showed up to ruin their fun as he was wont to do. With no time to get to the ground floor and unwilling to risk a broken leg by jumping out the window, Edward had made the split second decision to grab Jonathan and pull them both into a storage closet, flinging a smoke bomb—green, obviously—through the window he refused to jump out of for good measure, hoping the police and the caped crusader would assume they’d made their escape.

And in fact it had worked, as they waited with bated breath until the sounds of gruff voices and heavy boots faded away. It was quite brilliant, really. Perfect improvisation.

…Except for the fact that the closet was apparently able to lock on its own.

When Edward had been sure that the coast was clear he’d gone to turn the doorknob, casually at first, then more and more frantically as the reality of the situation dawned on him.

Jonathan had snapped at him to hurry up and let him out, and Edward had shot right back that if Jonathan wanted to try, he was welcome to.

Jonathan did so, and when he failed to produce results either a great deal of arguing ensued, continuing all the way to the present.

“Look, let me call the girls and we’ll be out of here before you know it.” Edward digs into his pocket for his phone, dialing up Query but unable to resist rolling his eyes at Jonathan, who huffs.

“Childish,” Jonathan grumbles.

“Oh, whatever.”

“Boss?” Query’s voice is a welcome sound. “I was about to call you. You’re late for poker. Heist went wrong?”

Ah, in his emotional duress Edward had nearly forgotten about their weekly game night. “Indeed, I'm afraid we might have to postpone. Our favorite vigliante showed up and we had to improvise. He thinks we’re halfway across the city by now.”

“I’m going to take a guess and say that they’re wrong about that.”

“Correct. We are in a closet.”

There’s a pause. Edward thinks he hears a snicker in the background, a distinctly Echo noise. He’ll have to have a word with her later about proper respect. He pays them too much to be laughed at.

“Sorry, what?” Query asks.

“We’re locked in a storage closet in the museum,” Edward repeats. “Second floor, left wing. So, if you would be so kind as to come assist us in getting out of said closet, it would be appreciated. Do not ask how it happened.”

Murmuring on the other end of the line. “Alright, but it might be a minute.”

Edward can feel dread creeping up his spine. “Query, exactly how long is a minute?”

“Well, several minutes.” Query pauses, the way she does when delivering news she knows Edward won’t be happy to hear. “Probably… twenty.”

Edward makes a noise somewhere between a cough and a frustrated whine. “You can’t get here any faster?”

“Going off what you said, Bat’s on the prowl, boss,” Query says, and Edward can practically hear her shrug of what can I do? “We gotta take the long way round if you don’t want to be stuck there for days while we sit around behind bars.”

“Fine.” Edward pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just make it as quick as you can.”

“You got it.”

He hangs up, cursing under his breath. Jonathan raises a brow. “Trouble?”

“They’re taking a detour,” Edward says snippily. “We’ll have to coexist a while longer yet.”

“Coño,” Jonathan hisses.

“Oh, now that's just vulgar,” Edward complains. “Where’s you learn that? You’re Colombian.” He’s still unused to hearing Jonathan’s Spanish—he pitches his voice differently than when he speaks English, and it’s more attractive than Edward will ever admit aloud.

“Colombian-Ecuadorian,” Jonathan corrects, “but if you must know, I picked it up during a brief and awful stay in Miami.”

“What on Earth were you doing in Miami?” Edward is thoroughly taken aback.

“Had a new formula and wanted to see how it interacted with heat,” Jonathan explains. “Gotham isn’t very conductive for that, and Batman was on my tail that month anyway, so I took a… vacation, you could call it.”

“Ah, a nice relaxation vacation of terrorizing the good Cubans of Florida. And picking up their slang, it seems.”

Jonathan sighs.

They lapse into silence for the first time since discovering they were trapped. In this proximity Edward is hyper aware of every movement the other makes, every time the rhythm of his breathing changes. He’s worked with Jonathan before, sometimes successfully and sometimes not, but this is new. It’s not odd for them to argue, but the circumstances have set them both on edge, forced them closer—literally. Though being crammed in this closet isn’t ideal, Edward finds that despite the snark and cold attitude the man exudes, he isn’t at all opposed to Jonathan’s presence. It’s rather nice to have someone match him wit for wit.

At this point the quiet has grown uncomfortable, so Edward does what he does best: he talks.

“I should be collecting my winnings from Query and Echo right now,” he says wistfully. Jonathan raises an eyebrow, and though it was likely unintentional Edward jumps at the opportunity to elaborate. “It’s game night. Poker, blackjack, the whole nine yards. They can hold their own against me, but of course I stay one step ahead at all times.”

“Should’ve known you gamble,” Jonathan remarks.

“On occasion.” Edward shrugs. “Most people are hopeless at it, though, so I’m rather selective.” He tilts his head. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take that chance.”

Jonathan steps forward. “I think you’d find that I am not so easily defeated.”

He’s close enough now that Edward has to tilt his head up to meet his eyes, barely visible in the darkness. Still, he can see how they burn, intense and almost—but only almost—warm.

Edward shifts slightly and manages to knock over a broom, startling him enough that he unconsciously moves toward Jonathan, which means he is now pressed up against him. He realizes quite suddenly that they’ve never touched before. He swallows, able to feel every slow breath that Jonathan takes. He’s awfully thin, his ribs practically protrude, and Edward sort of wants to run his hands across them—

Jonathan makes a choked sound, and Edward is yanked back into reality with the revelation that he has, in fact, begun to trail his hands up Jonathan’s sides.

Shit. He hadn’t meant to actually do that. “Um,” he says intelligently, removing his fingers from where they were brushing against the itchy burlap of Jonathan’s costume. He doesn’t get far, however, before Jonathan’s own hands come up to encircle his wrists, holding them in place.

Edward shivers.

“How long did those ladies of yours say they’d be?” Jonathan asks, tone level as always but laced with something darker.

“Oh, about ten more minutes or so,” Edward hums thoughtfully.

In unison, they look at the storage closet door.

They look back at each other.

—

Diedre Vance is having a thoroughly interesting night.

She’d been worried when Edward hadn’t shown up for game night, but for the first few minutes she’d simply assumed he was held up by some sort of complication. It was a known fact that working with Scarecrow came with quite the risk. After a while, though, she and Nina had both realized that something more was going on.

Edward’s call had confirmed that, so here she is, parking the car and stepping out with a crowbar and a length of rope slung over her shoulder. Nina follows behind, shotgun in hand, because one can never be too prepared. There are guards all over the place, probably from paranoia that the Riddler and the Scarecrow will return to finish the job, but it’s easy enough to sneak past the fools and they only have to knock out two. Diedre and Nina have barely broken a sweat by the time they start scaling the museum wall.

Hoisting herself up into the spacious room on the second floor, Diedre looks around for the closet her unfortunate boss is trapped in. She catches sight of it to the left, barely visible in the darkness, and she notes with some alarm that it clearly wasn’t built to fit even one person comfortably, and certainly not two.

She wonders if either of them are still alive, or if she’ll open the door to find two corpses choked to death by their own egos.

“Boss?” She calls out.

“Query!” Comes the muffled reply. “There you are. Now get us out of here.”

Diedre passes the rope off to Nina so that she can tie it around the windowsill for an easier descent. Turning back to the door, she grips the crowbar in both hands.

“I’m breaking this shit,” she warns Edward and Jonathan. Adjusting her stance, she brings the crowbar down on the doorknob and hears the satisfying crunch of a cylinder breaking. Her boss and the Scarecrow come tumbling out, suspiciously sweaty and unkempt.

“Well,” Edward pants, trying to be discreet about buttoning his shirt back up and failing extraordinarily, “that was an illuminating experience.”

“About damn time,” Jonathan grumbles, though the gruffness is somewhat negated by the way his hair is mussed in a way that could only have resulted from it being pulled on.

“Sorry for the wait, boss,” Nina says, having finished with the rope, and Diedre notices how her shoulders shake with the effort of holding back laughter.

Jonathan at least has the decency to nod in their direction. “Query. Echo.” It’s likely the most thanks they’ll get tonight, Diedre thinks bemusedly.

“Hi Doctor Crane,” she and Nina reply together. Edward is already clambering down from the window, and Diedre knows he only moves that awkwardly and quickly when he’s flustered.

The rope holds for all of them, thankfully, and once they’re safely on the ground again Jonathan immediately begins walking in the opposite direction of Diedre’s car.

“Are you really going to walk all the way back?” Edward asks incredulously. Diedre’s head whips around to look at him, quite shocked. Is he… offering the Scarecrow a ride? Her boss is many things, but being generous is not one of them. If there was any doubt of what happened in that storage closet, it’s gone now. Nina must have come to the same conclusion, if the elbow digging into Diedre’s side and the snicker by her ear is any indication.

Jonathan stops, turning back to look at the trio and shrugging. “Why not?”

Edward scoffs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s freezing out.”

“And?”

Edward frowns. “Don’t be stubborn. Get in the car.”

Jonathan runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “Have a good night, Edward.” He stalks off quickly before Edward can protest.

Diedre glances between his retreating form and her boss, who is standing still as she’s ever seen him. He blinks, coming back to himself with a visible jolt.

“Have a good night,” he mutters. “Really. As if he… means that.” He gestures at Diedre and Nina. “Alright, let’s go. I was promised poker and I intend to collect.”

Diedre tosses her keys in the air and catches them, then acquiesces. No use in getting the Riddler any more riled up, especially not if she wants a chance at winning the betting pool tonight.

Edward sniffs as he slides into the passenger seat, Jonathan’s words clearly still affecting him. “See if I work with that man again. Of all the infuriating, self-righteous…”

Diedre catches Nina’s eye through the rear-view mirror and mouths the word idiots, affectionate and exasperated as always.

[inawickedlittletown]

Somebody To Love (one-shot)

Summary: Blind Date - Buddietines Week Day 6

In which Maddie sets Buck up on a blind date on Valentine’s Day and Buck only accepts because he’s trying to get over his crush on Eddie. 

And then...he sees who his blind date is. 

Ship: Buck/Eddie

Rating: M (smut)

Words: 3,306

Notes: This was not supposed to get smutty...but then it did and I have no regrets. Enjoy. 

Title obviously after the Queen song (mostly because I couldn’t think of anything else).

Read on Ao3 

---

“You set me up on a blind date,” Buck said. “Seriously? And what is that supposed to do for me? Mads, that’s the last thing I need or want.”

His sister wagged her finger at him but she was grinning in that mischievous way that told Buck that she was up to something and that whatever it was, it just wasn’t going to be good for him.

“Look,” Maddie said, “I’m tired of hearing you complain about your crush on Eddie all the time. And since you’re convinced that he won’t feel the same way then the only way forward is for you to move on with someone else. Buck...I just want you to be happy.”

Buck sighed. They were in Maddie’s apartment and Buck had sort of whined a bit about how hopeless his crush was. Eddie had to be straight, after all. He had a son and he’d never spoken about liking men and Buck knew his luck and his taste in men. They nearly always turned out to be straight and unattainable. 

“Okay, so if I let you do this and it doesn’t work out then you get off my back?” 

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Yeah...alright,” she said. “But I have a feeling that you’re going to like who I choose.” 

“Not likely,” Buck said. 

Maddie didn’t bring the blind date up again for a few days and then on the night before Valentine’s Day, Buck received a text. 

Your date is tomorrow. Wear that new shirt you bought the other day. And have fun.

Buck just sort of groaned at his phone and shrugged at Eddie when he looked at him questioningly. Chim just sort of laughed at him and nudged Hen which meant that Maddie had definitely told Chim about the blind date and he had of course shared with Hen. 

It was no matter...they would probably all discuss it over dinner or whatever on the shift after Valentine’s Day and his date. That’s how things went at the 118, after all. There were rarely any secrets. Buck was actually a bit surprised that he’d done so well with keeping his crush from everyone. At least, he hoped he had. 

He texted Maddie back. 

You just had to pick Valentine’s Day didn’t you...

Even though he wasn’t thrilled about the date, Buck figured that it was worth a try. He needed to make himself move on from his crush and if that meant going on a blind date that his sister set up, then that’s what it was going to entail. 

Maddie sent him the details on where the date was taking place. The reservation was under her name and she expected Buck to be there on time. 

Despite not being thrilled about the date, Buck still took the time to get ready. He took Maddie’s advice and put on the new shirt, it was button up, short sleeved, and maroon. Buck actually hadn’t been too into it when he saw it but Maddie convinced him to get it. He paired it with his favorite jeans. As he got ready, he couldn’t help but think about the last Valentine’s date he’d had. With Abby. That had been a mess and a half, he only hoped that the person Maddie had set him up with could help him out if he choked again...or better yet that there was no medical emergency at all. 

He arrived at the restaurant right on time. It was busy, but then it was Valentine’s Day. Buck actually ended up waiting in line to get to the host and as he did he took a glance around to try and see if he could find the person that he was supposed to be on a date with but around him were only couples. 

“Hi, can I help you?” 

Buck nodded. “Uh, yeah. Reservation for Maddie Buckley. My sister set up this blind date for me…”

The host smiled at him. “Yes, your date is actually already here.” She motioned for one of the waiters. “Table twelve.”

Buck gulped but he followed the waiter. He had to just hope for the best. If the date went well then it went well and if it went horribly then that’s what happened. Either way, it was one night and a few hours and Buck literally had nothing left to lose. Not even his heart. That kind of already belonged to someone else. 

“Here we are,” the waiter said. “And I will be right back. Enjoy your night.” 

The waiter stepped out of Buck’s way. His date was facing the other way and Buck had a moment to see him because it was definitely a guy. He was nervous, going by the way that his hand kept twitching on the table and it was clear that Maddie had gone through the trouble of finding someone that at least from the back looked a bit like Eddie. She knew what Buck liked. Buck didn’t know if that would be easier or harder. 

Taking a deep breath, Buck stepped forward. 

“Hi, I—” he had no words and his jaw could have been touching the ground for all he knew because this was not what he’d expected…it was not who he expected at all. 

“Buck,” Eddie said. “What are you doing here?”

“I — Maddie set me up on a blind date,” Buck said and he realized that he was in the way when a waiter tried to get past him so he slid into the seat across from Eddie. 

Eddie had sat up in the chair and he was leaning forward. “Chim set me up on a blind date,” he said. He was staring at Buck in wonder.

Buck burst out into laughter and he was sure the people at the tables around them were turning to look at them but he couldn’t help it because it had been a set up. Maddie knew how Buck felt and she’d made this happen as some sort of push to get Buck to admit his feelings and Eddie had been pulled along into the middle of it. 

“So...I guess the good thing about this is that we’re not on awkward dates with randoms,” Buck said. “Spending tonight with your best friend...not a bad way to go.”

Eddie sat back in his chair and his lips were pursed. “Buck...I think we have to be real here. Or maybe I do...I have to come clean. Tengo que decirte esto porque si no lo digo...me voy acer loco.”

[I have to tell you this because if I don’t say it...I’m going to go crazy]

“Eddie...I don’t speak Spanish,” Buck said. “But I know what loco means.”

Eddie sort of hung his head and when he looked back up he just sort of shook his head when he looked at Buck but before he could say anything the waiter was back. 

“Hello,” he said, “can I get you started on anything?” 

“Just water for now, thanks,” Buck said. 

The waiter nodded and walked away.

“So,” Buck said. He was nervous to ask. 

Eddie took a breath and Buck was reassured by how nervous Eddie looked as well. It made him...well, it made him wonder if he’d been wrong. If maybe Maddie had a point and he should have told Eddie. He was just gathering the guts to tell him when Eddie spoke first. 

“I — I like you, Buck. That seems so...juvenile. I don’t know...I’m kind of in love with you. That might be better. And true.”

Buck had no words. There were no words that could describe what he felt. It was lucky the table between them wasn’t that big because Buck leaned over it easily, one hand on the table for balance and the other on Eddie’s shirt, dragging him up so that he could kiss him, slotting their lips together and trying to shove every single emotion at him. All the love he felt for this man...for his best friend. His best friend who loved him back and was kissing back. 

Eddie let out the cutest little whine when Buck pulled back and he moved with Buck, chasing his lips. Eddie’s hands found their way to Buck’s jaw, his fingers brushing over Buck’s cheek and Eddie kissed him. This one was gentler, slower and lingering. 

They both sat down, but their hands met across the table, the need to have contact and to touch imperative.

“So...we could have been doing that all this time,” Eddie said a tad breathless.

“Yeah. I guess we’re both a little bit clueless.”

“Or too stuck in our own heads,” Eddie said.

Buck squeezed Eddie’s hand. “I didn’t want to lose you. Our friendship. And...well, I had no idea you liked men too.”

Eddie chuckled. “I — I’ve never really been with a man before.” He looked nervous admitting that, Buck could tell. 

“Well...you know my past…”

“I do,” Eddie said. “And you know mine.” 

Buck couldn’t help but smile wide. “So we’re doing this…”

Eddie nodded. He was smiling too and it was all teeth, eyes shinning. Buck just loved him so much. And it was the easiest thing in the world to love that man. 

“Well, since we’re here now...I guess this makes it our first date. On Valentine’s Day.”

“What could you possibly have against this day?” Eddie asked.

Buck shrugged. “Nothing really...just I don’t like the cliche that we got together on Valentine’s Day. You know?” 

Eddie laughed. “Would you prefer a different day?”

“Maybe.”

Eddie just laughed again. “Is this because Maddie and Chim now get to claim they got us together? Because, to be honest, they kinda did.” 

“But they’ll be so smug,” Buck said. 

Eddie shook his head and he leaned it onto his free hand just so, staring at Buck and Buck could see nothing but fondness in his gaze. Fondness for Buck. 

“I love you. You love me. I think in the end we win.”

Buck nodded and he wanted to just lean over again and kiss him because he’d been wanting to do that and so much more for longer than he could possibly pin down. Eddie was just delectable...his abs alone had caught Buck’s attention but there was just a lot more to him than that and knowing all of that, it made Buck want him even more. 

“But, that doesn’t mean we can’t mess with them a little,” Eddie said. 

And that was why he was his best friend. “They would deserve it. But that’s plans for another day. Tonight...it’s about us.”

Eddie reached out and with his free hand, he touched Buck’s cheek. Buck leaned into the touch and Eddie chuckled as his thumb swept over Buck’s lower lip. 

“And come to think of it, I don’t think we need to do this whole dinner thing,” Buck said. “You have to get back for Chris tonight right? Well, I’m not really hungry...but I would be down for something else during the time we have?” He raised an eyebrow at Eddie and hoped that he wasn’t pressing his luck. 

Eddie’s eyes narrowed on him and Eddie bit down on his lower lip, eyes never leaving Buck. 

“Good idea?” Buck asked. 

Eddie stood up, never letting go of Buck’s hand. “Let’s go,” he said and it was Eddie that pulled him through the restaurant out to the exit. 

They’d both come in their own cars and leaving one behind wasn’t an option. 

“Meet me at mine?” Buck asked as they walked towards the parking lot.

Eddie nodded but he didn’t let go of Buck’s hand when they’d reached his truck. Instead, he pulled Buck closer and next thing he knew, Buck was pressed against the side of the truck and Eddie was stepping into his space. Their eyes were locked together and then Eddie was kissing him hard and fast and sloppy. Desperate. Buck pressed his body even closer to him, pulling Eddie in by the waist. 

Buck was surprised when Eddie pulled back, stepped back from Buck entirely. His lips were red, his hair just slightly mussed and his eyes looked wild like at any moment he would just pounce on Buck. But he didn’t. Instead, he reached for Buck’s hand and he pulled Buck off the truck. 

“Just a preview,” Eddie whispered. “Go. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Buck had no genuine idea about how he managed to get back to his apartment because he was in a daze. An Eddie induced daze. 

Eddie got there not long after he did and they walked without touching at all to his apartment. It was when the door closed that they grabbed for each other, falling into hard and messy kisses that were part teeth and just a bit off center. Their chests were pressed together and Buck wanted to be touching all of Eddie. He wanted to see all of him. He wanted to know him and be known back. 

It was stumbling that they made it up the stairs, struggling to try and take each other’s clothes off and knocking into each other and the railing of the stairs as they went. But Eddie managed to open Buck’s shirt and immediately his hands were on his skin warm and with lightly callused fingers and Eddie was trailing his mouth away from his mouth down his jaw and neck. Buck held on to any part of Eddie that he could reach, fingers digging into his shoulders and side because it was too much. Having Eddie was too much. 

Somehow they were moving towards his bed. Eddie pushed him to sit and Buck could only watch as Eddie stripped himself of his shirt, throwing it aside. He took off his shoes too and then his hands were on Buck’s neck, tilting his head up. Eddie leaned down and kissed him, a quick brush of their lips before he pushed Buck to the bed. Buck scrambled back, moving towards the headboard and Eddie followed.

Buck shivered when Eddie’s hands landed on Buck’s torso, running up his chest to his shoulders. Eddie kept eye contact right up until he leaned down and he was trailing kisses up Buck’s chest. Buck had to throw his head back onto his pillow, whimpering as Eddie came up his neck, his knees were bracing him on either side of Buck’s hips and Eddie’s teeth nipped at Buck’s neck. 

“Eddie,” Buck gasped. He reached for him, hands landing on Eddie’s sides, his warm skin was almost like silk to the touch and he heard Eddie gasp as Buck’s hands explored. 

They were kissing again a moment later and their chests were pressed together but more importantly so was everything else and Buck could feel Eddie against him. They were both hard and confined in jeans and if Buck wasn’t comfortable then neither was Eddie but Buck couldn’t be the one to push even if he was sure that Eddie wanted it. Eddie had never done this with a man before…

When the kiss ended and they were gasping for breath, Buck rolled them over. He supported his weight over Eddie with his hands on either side of Eddie’s face and looking at him made him lose his breath. He was a beautiful gorgeous man and Buck had him in his bed. 

“Buck? What is it?” 

Buck brushed a piece of Eddie’s hair off his forehead. 

“You’ve never done this before...with a guy, I mean…”

“I haven’t,” Eddie said and there was something bashful about him when he said it but then their eyes were meeting. “Buck, I want everything with you.”

Buck smiled down at him. “But we can take it slow, you know. We have a long time to do everything.”

Eddie pulled him down into another round of kissing and it was Eddie that reached down between them and undid Buck’s pants and then started pulling them off. Buck had to sit up and get up from the bed to take them off completely and in the meanwhile, Eddie worked on his own and seeing him splayed out on his bed in just his boxers with a hard on tenting said boxers and his abs and legs in full display. It was as if he had walked inside his own dreams. 

“God, you’re hot,” Buck muttered as he climbed back on the bed and Eddie was pulling him towards him and then they were kissing again, pressed up together as much as was possible. Buck groaned when their covered erections brushed and Eddie gasped into his mouth and Buck never wanted to forget the way that Eddie sounded when he whined and gasped and tried to hold on to a moan. 

Buck reached between them and he was slow and deliberate as his hand played with the waistband of Eddie’s boxers until Eddie had had enough and he shimmied out of them on his own and Buck barely hesitated before his hand was on Eddie’s cock. 

“Buck,” Eddie groaned, voice guttural and unbelievably hot. 

Eddie whined when Buck began to move his hand, he was bucking up into it and he threw his head back, the line of his throat glorious and long interrupted only by his adam’s apple when he was gulping and taking in air. 

All of it, the emotion and the Eddie of it all was everything. Buck’s hand kept moving on Eddie’s cock and then he moved his body down Eddie’s glistening chest. Eddie was watching him and Buck just shot him a smirk when he’d made it down between his legs. He leaned forward and licked a stripe from tip to bottom. 

Eddie was whimpering through his moans but one of his hands was gripping Buck’s shoulder tight, nails digging in just as Buck took the head of Eddie’s cock in his mouth and he groaned against it because this only happened in his dreams. 

“Buck, oh—” Eddie’s gasps were interrupted and loud and soft. 

Buck wanted to keep hearing him as he took more of Eddie in his mouth, losing himself to his senses, the way that Eddie smelled and tasted and felt against his tongue and how Buck knew when Eddie was just about to come from the way he twitched, but he stayed where he was anyway because he didn’t want even a drop to go to waste. It was all of it, the way that Eddie was looking at him and the feeling of him going soft in Buck’s mouth, spent and happily so...it made everything perfect and when Eddie had recovered enough he was urging Buck to take off his underwear, Buck felt like he wouldn’t be holding on for much longer. And it didn’t take much more than Eddie’s touch and his hands fondling him in an almost reverent way for Buck to feel his orgasm hit. 

They collapsed side by side on Buck’s bed, sweaty and worn out but touching still where they could despite how sticky they felt and how Buck’s cum was starting to dry on his stomach and thighs and where it had landed on Eddie. 

“Wow,” Eddie said, panting and laughing just a little. 

“Okay,” Buck said, “so this may just have been the best Valentine’s Day ever,” Buck said. 

“You can say that again,” Eddie said. 

“But Chim and Maddie are definitely not off the hook,” Buck added, leaning over to kiss Eddie what was just more than a peck, Eddie chuckled against his lips and Buck laughed too and then they were kissing again and Buck could hardly believe his luck as he lost himself to the sensation of Eddie and how he was surrounded by him. Loved by him. In love with him. 

[toughbookie]

7 Books in 7 Days

I Stumbled across a few YouTube videos about this “7 Books in 7 Days” challenge going on on the internet.

I got curious and after absolutely no research or further preparation, I decided to do that as well; I would have read seven books in a week.

Aaaaand here’s pretty much how it went.

DAY 1: The book I couldn’t find in English

Title: Storia di una balena bianca raccontata da lei stessa

Author: Luis Sepúlveda

Pages: 107

Rate: 5/5

Having started in the early evening, I had to pick a book that was short enough for me to finish on the same day. The choice fell on this tiny masterpiece by Sepúlveda, whose literature I wasn’t familiar with (boy, will that change during this reading challenge) aside from The Story of a Seagull and the Cat Who Taught Her to Fly, read years and years and year and years ago.

What I thought I was going forward was a nice, cute little novel.

I.

Was.

Wrong.

This actually kind of broke me.

Based on the story of Moby Dick - which in turn is based on the true story of the Essex, a whaler that left the island of Nantucket in 1819 only to be destroyed by the giant sperm whale the crew was after to acquire the oil to power lamps… Look, life sucked before we got electricity - this book is narrated by the giant white whale in the flesh. As you might have guessed by now, we’re not talking about the happiest story ever.

What starts as an observation from the young whale’s eyes of the resourcefulness and curiosity of mankind, quickly transforms into a condemnation of its cruelty and disrespect for nature.

Beautifully written, I definitely recommend this book to anyone who loves angst and can speak Italian or Spanish (I couldn’t find an English version).

I really had a good time with it. And also a good cry. I’m fragile.

DAY 2: The book about a murder

Title: The body in the library

Author: Agatha Christie

Pages: 215

Rate: 4/5

For the second day of this challenge, I’ve decided to throw myself into a novel featuring Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple.

In this crime novel, the body of a young woman is found in the library of Mr. and Mrs. Bantry’s house. The problem: nobody knows this girl or how she got in there. It’s going to be up to the police and, naturally, to Miss Marple, to find the truth.

I have discovered Agatha Christie only recently but it’s undeniable that she deserves all my love. It’s been fun to read this book and develop theories to find out who the murderer was and how and why they acted. It was like piecing a puzzle together. This is my first reading featuring Miss Marple, and I found her quite impressive. Unlike her “colleague”, Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple is not a detective, she’s just people smart, and it’s delightful to follow her around on her adventures.

Unfortunately the finale didn’t satisfy me that much, but it was still pretty good. Definitely recommended.

DAY 3: The long one

Title: The temptation to be happy

Author: Lorenzo Marone

Pages: 268

Rate: 3.5/5

Note: The more I think about this book, the more I feel like it doesn’t fully deserve its 3.5 rating. Consider it as an “almost 4”, please and thank you.

On the third day, I faced the longest book of the ones I had chosen. And, since life happened and I had other things to do around, I risked not finishing it on time (no worries, I managed).

The story is one of a cynical 77 years old widow: Cesare Annunziata. He doesn’t really care much about the people around him, except his daughter and son whom he loves even though of course he doesn’t know how to show it. Up until here, it’s honestly pretty standard and it has its cliches.

Everything changes when Cesare realizes that his new neighbor, Emma, is a victim of domestic abuse and lives in fear of her husband. The old man and the woman form an improbable friendship aaaaand I don’t want to get into spoiler territory, even tho the story is actually quite simple and sometimes predictable.

The best part about this, however, is not the story. The characters are what really brings the book to life, with a perfect balance of goofy and more serious personalities. It’s people we could meet every day, and that’s what really makes it good. Not full of plot twist, but it’s not meant to be.

Reading Lorenzo Marone was a pretty nice way to spend the day.

DAY 4: The other book about the murder

Title: A Caribbean mystery

Author: Agatha Christie

Pages: 230

Rate: 4/5 

Another day, another Agatha Christie’s novel. In this sunny and colorful environment, new murders have happened and new assassins have to be found.

Miss Marple, on holidays in the Caribbean, is having quite a good time, except not much is going on around here. Lucky for her - and honestly, only for her… I mean, good for you that you have a hobby but you should really not enjoy dead people so much - old Major Palgrave is found dead in his room. What looks like a natural death to most is actually a deeper mystery, and it’s up to Miss Marple to dig up the truth and save the day before the assassin strikes again.

Again, making up theories and analyzing the characters is a lot of fun, and I actually found out who the assassin was, which is pretty rare because I’m dumb at mysteries.

At the end of this book I started to feel a bit tired and I got a bit of a headache. I loved reading it, but with work I never really have the time for long, intensive sessions that go on for multiple days in a row.

Still, the pleasure of reading this book made everything more bearable.

 DAY 5: The big fail

Title: Loving sabotage

Author: Amélie Nothomb

Pages: 62 out of 124

Rate: 1/5

God, I hated this book. Pretentious, boring, just bad. It didn’t even seem like there was a plot or the author was talking about anything in particular, just words put down one after the other without any true purpose.

Really felt like a waste of time. It was awful to get though. So I didn’t. Which, given my holiday was over and I had to go back to work, gave me a bit of a time problem.

DAY 5: Sepúlveda strikes back

Title: Patagonia Express

Author: Luis Sepúlveda

Pages: 127

Rate: 5/5

To save the day at the last minute, came Luis Sepúlveda with this short account of his travels in Patagonia.

Starting in Spain and exploring the very edge of the world, this collection is filled with wild characters and hilarious episodes that made me enjoy every single page. 

That is, after getting past that one chapter about lamb castration.

That was a weird one.

I’ve never liked this particular literary genre much, but Luis Sepúlveda gives an incredible description of the places he visited, the people he met and their own stories, which are particularly bizarre and told with incredible talent. It’s a pretty short book, so I don’t want to spoil anything, but you get the drill.

Possibly my favorite book out of this challenge, Patagonia Express is a delightful quick escape from the ordinary.

 DAY 6: Guess who’s back

Title: The old man who read love stories

Author: Luis Sepúlveda

Pages: 135

Rate: 3/5

So, Sepúlveda wasn’t originally supposed to stick around for so long, but here we go again.

As for The old man who read love stories, it’s possibly the book I liked the least from Sepúlveda. Which isn’t saying much, I still like his work a lot.

The story is one of old Antonio José Bolívar Proaño, and guess what: he likes to read love stories. 

That makes two of us, buddy.

He’s also an expert of the forest nearby the small town of El Idilio, and forced to hunt down a female of ocelot, along with a group of men from the town.

Through some flashbacks we also find out the story of his life and how he became to know the forest so well. That’s my favorite part of the novel, by the way.

While the book started well, it felt like it got lost somewhere around the second half, which was supposed to be the important, life-lessons-packed part. You know, the part you don’t want to get lost at.

By the last pages I was almost falling asleep, and thinking back a couple of days later I don’t really remember much of the story as a whole.

In total honesty, a lot of it might have been because it was the sixth book in as many days, and my three brain cells had been up to a lot more than they can usually stand. Plus, long work hours got in the way.

DAY 7: Because it’s Christmas

Title: Hercule Poirot’s Christmas

Author: Agatha Christie

Pages: 209

Rate: 3.5/5

A millionaire asshole. His children and their wives. A nephew and a family friend. A murder on Christmas night.

It would have been offensive to read so much Agatha Christie without any Hercule Poirot, and so here comes my dear detective, ready for the grand finale.

Also, it’s Christmas!! Christmas book!! Christmas spirit!! Quite literally I mean someone got killed -

Hercule Poirot’s Christmas is an interesting novel, full of well done characters and mystery. I had a good time reading it, as I always do with this kind of novels.

But I do have to say - it’s probably just me and other readers liked it fine - the finale really ruined it for me. It feels pulled out of nowhere at the last minute, and even though it was certainly a big surprise, it felt added like a second thought just to make an even bigger plot twist than what could have been.

Aside from that, it’s a good book and given the settings I dare say it’s the perfect reading for when it’s cold outside, maybe snowing, and you’re cuddling under a blanket with a nice warm cup of tea.

Or hot chocolate.

Pick your favorite, I won’t judge.

Conclusions:

So finally we’re at the end of this 7 Books in 7 days Challenge. It was very enjoyable, but also towards the end it got pretty draining and sometimes stressful to keep up with the reading schedule while squeezing into the day everything else life throws at you.

Doing that on a week of holidays instead three days, when I could have focused only on the books, it would have probably gone differently, maybe even attempting to tackle longer novels. But you know, we’re talking about reading 1139 pages in a week, which is not something I thought I was capable of doing.

So overall I’m proud of how I did.

Not sure if I’ll repeat this but I’m glad I’ve done it, at least this once, and I honestly recommend it.

Also I don’t want to read anything else until 2022.

Bookie, signing out.

[pandawritesmanythings]

Halfrid // Part 2

Platonic!Loki x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your life has always been dictated by the fact that you are smarter than most adults. This has made you antagonize many of them, it isn’t your fault that you are just citing facts! However, when the god of mischief becomes your friend, are there enough facts you can cite to prove his innocence?

Warnings: None

A/N: Thanks for the support on the first part. I’m not sure how this one came out, but I’m having a lot of fun writing this! Feedback is always appreciated!

PRESENT TIME

Fury looked at you as if had grown a second head.

“You sneaked past me? Past security?”

“In my defence, I was a curious nine-year-old. I had no concept of boundaries.” You put your hands in the air and tugged at the table as your cuffs stopped you.

“And don’t you think that maybe the sceptre started manipulating you? We barely figured out how it works.”

You had thought about it. It was a possibility that more than once had crossed your mind. You had looked at every angle, searched every corner. There was no possible way that you were under some sort of influence.

“No. There’s no way.”

“How would you be able to know?” He pressed for information.

“You’ll just have to trust me in this one agent Fury.” You said with determination.

“That is hard to do, especially considering that it is the representation of mischief and lies who could be behind this.”

You hit the desk with your fist. “Is that why he’s up there? Literally fighting the thing he’s most afraid of? To try and trick you? To try and destroy you?”

A shaky breath left your lips. Fury just silently looked at you, he didn’t really know what to make of this unusual situation. But the fact that a literal teenager was defending on of earth’s most wanted enemies was the most baffling part of the whole thing.

You sighed. “I just wanted to help. I just wanted to know why he did what he did.” You slumped in your chair. “My search for knowledge brought me here…”

“Do you regret that knowledge?”

That snapped you. “No! Of course not!” You straightened up. “Not in a million years. His burden is one that I am so happy to share. People told me to be curious, to learn things, to understand the world around us. But if there is no one else in that world to understand, is it worth it?”

NEW YORK 2012

You sat with your back pressed against the glass. On the other side, Loki did the same, the only difference being that he had extended his legs and you pressed yours against your chest. You head slightly tilted to look at him through the glass.

“So… Who exactly are you?” You broke the silence.

“Who do you think I am?”

You took a second to think. “Are you that Harry Potter dude? My friends are obsessed with him but I honestly don’t see it.”

Loki had an idea of who you were talking about, but most of all, your nonchalance amused him. “Snape, I believe he is called?”

“I guess, I’m not the one to ask about Harry Potter facts.” You giggled.

“Ah well, I guess we will have to find another topic to speak about.” He didn’t know why he was going along with her antics.

There was nothing particularly interesting about this kid, he thought. Besides her quick thinking, there wasn’t much more he could exploit. He told himself that if she could reveal even the slightest information about who she was or if she had any special abilities, then maybe she could be of some use to his own benefit. Yeah, that was it.

“I know! Let’s guess things about each other!” You beamed. “I’ll start guessing your name!”

Oh right, he hadn’t told her his name. He was going to, but you probably already had heard of who he was. And something inside him didn’t want you to confirm who he was. He didn’t know why, but that’s just what he wanted.

“Alright, try.”

“I think your name is Thomas.” You smiled.

Loki cringed visibly. “Norns no. Who would curse their child with such a name?”

You held your stomach as you laughed. “Many do! It is a very silly name, right?”

“Indeed.” He nodded. “Well, I believe you look like a Halfrid.”

Your face went blank for a second. “Hal-Who?”

“Halfrid. Don’t you agree?” His smirk only widened, knowing he had confused you.

“That is the weirdest name I have ever heard… Is that even a real word?” Your sense of reality seemed to have been shaken.

“Yes, where I come from is not that weird of a name.” He laughed at you.

“Well, then let me tell you of a name that you have never heard of.” You challenged with your chin raised.

“You think there is a single name in the galaxy that I have not heard?” He leaned closer to you as you challenged him.

“There is no way you have heard it.” You smirked at his defiance.

“Alright, say it.”

You smiled wickedly remembering exactly how your friend had taught you to say it. She was a Hispanic girl in your class, and she told you that even though the name Maria was 50% of the female Hispanic population, at least another 25% was made of the most unusual names in existence. It was particularly hilarious when it was a substitute teacher the one who tried to pronounce her first and last name.

“Douglimar Carmela Carrabos.” You said, accent almost perfect.

“Duglymer Cormella Karabos? What sort of monstrosity is that?” He said in a choppy Spanish accent.

“The name of a poor classmate of mine.” You giggled.

“Point taken.” He raised his hands in defeat.

“Okay, so now favourite color.” You did him a once over and raised an eyebrow. “I may not be mistaken to believe that your favourite color is green?”

He smiled at the child’s guess. “Well, although I am fond of the color, in reality, I prefer gold.”

“Then why don’t you wear it?” It seemed so simple to her if he likes the color he should wear it. That’s what she did if there is something she liked unless it was hurting herself or someone else, there was no reason why she couldn’t talk about it or show how much she liked it.

Loki, however, furrowed his brow. He had never truly thought about it. Why didn’t he wear it? It was something that ran deeper than it just being a color. He knew he could be risking spilling details about him if he tried to explain to the girl the reason for his attitude. So easing his expression he just looked at her with a controlled and unreadable expression and answered her.

“It’s too shiny to wear in the sunlight.”

She didn’t buy it, and he knew it. But she shrugged and let it go.

“Alright, if you say so. What about mine?” She asked tilting her head in a questioning manner.

He gave her a quick look and tried guessing, but seeing that her shirt had an array of different colours, he didn’t know if to securely pinpoint one.

“Well, I would be inclined to say blue, because of your skirt and stockings. But your shirt could tell another story.” He slyly responded, to not get himself in a pickle with the girl.

“Smart boy! In fact, I love all the colours! All of them are beautiful. Which is why I try to wear them all, every week. Even poop green, I have a really ugly poop green sweater that I always wear with my overall. I should show you one day.” She smiled.

Loki had a keen interest in this child. She was so different from the children of Asgard. Not that he had that much contact with any of them, but you were different from the ones he got to make acquaintance with. You had a carefree expression, not being afraid of just… living. You wore the colours of the rainbow, and yet still, you could also wear the ugliest of colours. And without seeing you in that ugly sweater he could already tell that when you wore it you did it with pride.

The girls he had known in Asgard were proper and shy. You were expressive and carefree. Your words may not feel that deep nor psychological at first glance, but in them, he could dig down and see a wisdom that was weird for a nine-year-old. 

Princesses in Asgard were afraid of him. You, however, talked to him as if you had known him all along, looked at him as if he was worth anything at all. You weren’t scared of him, and that was something he never thought to be even remotely possible.

There was a silence that settled between the both of you, but it wasn’t awkward or heavy. It was just a simple enjoyable silence.

“But, for real…” You broke the silence. “Who are you?”

Your eyes… Loki had never seen such sincerity in someone else’s eyes. He felt something stir inside him, an old forgotten memory. Something so deep buried down in his mind that dusting it and bringing it into the light made him feel dizzy.

“I-I…” Why was he stammering?

He composed himself. “Who do you think I am?” He repeated the question he had asked her earlier trying to divert her attention.

She was just staring. You searched. Searched deep into his eyes. You tried to find a clue, anything that gave away who he was. There was only one thing that she could guess, it was an instinct, something in her gut that told her it was so.

“Are you Loki?”

PRESENT TIME

You looked at the wall. Fury leaned forward, urging you silently to continue.

“So? What did he say?”

You keep quiet for just another moment, knowing fully that you were getting to his nerves.

“Really, agent Fury?” You leaned forward, defying him. “You know very well what he said.”

You relaxed your posture and leaned back into your chair. However, your serious expression never left your face. “In fact, I know for a fact that you know what he said to me. How? Because your guys told me. You watched and rewatched the security tapes because you just had to know if he let any information slip his lips.” You accused. “So why are you asking me if you already know the answer?”

Fury remained silent. He knew you were right, so it was better not to dawdle on it. 

“Alright. Then, let me ask you a better question. Why do you think he didn’t lie to you?”

Your serious facade broke. As much as you claimed to understand Loki, there were so many things you still couldn’t understand. And it ate your insides.

“I don’t know…” Your shoulders slumped. “I have no idea. A-and I hate it because I have given so much thought over what went on that day and I am still no closer to figuring out. Why…?”

Why had he not introduced himself from the begging? Why did he go along with your antics? Why did he make you finally understand the meaning of the word friend? Why? Why? Why? A million of those always rushed through your mind, and you could barely answer a couple.

“If you want me to say what you want me to say, then maybe he was just trying to play me. Maybe he just wanted to take advantage of me. Maybe he was waiting on something that I could say that would solidify his plan. Or maybe he just wanted to know who my parents were to see if I was worth kidnapping. Who knows?”

“But is that what you believe?” Fury asked, fully immersed in your way of arguing this antagonist’s case.

“No. Of course not.” A small smile crept onto your lips, your eyes lost in nothingness. “I mean, Loki can be a pain to deal with sometimes. But in all the time I’ve known him… I know I would trust him with my life if it came to it.” You focused again in agent Fury’s face. “And, that kind of trust doesn’t come out of nowhere.”

“You do realize what he did shortly after, don’t you?”

“Of course. I’m not blind. I know exactly what he did, not only because it is one of the most striking events that happened in New York since 9/11. But also because I have been making a ruckus in my mind trying to figure out how did it get there. Why did so many people have to die? Many points show us that this could have been avoided.” You debated if to tell Fury your next point. You had not yet made him understand how you got to this level of knowledge. Would he even understand?

“My men have also been very analytical about this situation. But what makes you think that a fifteen-year-old can know more about this than us?” He questioned.

“Honestly, the fact that your guys were just looking at one point in time tells you how unprepared they were to tackle this subject. They didn’t even question Loki nor kept him in custody long enough to find his motives! How could you be certain that their investigation was thorough?”

Fury thought that was a good point. And knowing that HYDRA had infiltrated SHIELD, for God knows how long, could explain why a fully fleshed out explanation never landed on his lap.

“Well, it may be what you say. But we are running out of time kid.”

Just as he said it the whole bunker trembled. You held onto the chair your hair bouncing, fear in your eyes. The light flickered, it seemed about to turn off.

“What the heck?”

“What are they doing up there?” Fury quickly got up from his seat and walked towards the door in a hurry.

“Wait! I have to help them, please!”

“Kid, you are not a superhero. I need to check what’s going on up there. You need to stay here and figure out a way to tell me the short version of your story. Because if you don’t, your friend can either die or live as a hero, or remain a villain.” He finished slamming the door as if to prove a point.

You were so tired. Mentally and emotionally. It just wasn’t fair. The fact that your whole life had revolved around trying to show everyone how smart you were, only for them to look at you in disapproval. His were the only eyes who had looked at you and listened, laughed and believed your words. Even if they were the stupid comments of a nine-year-old who thought hers were the best comebacks in the history of ever.

Thinking back on it, knowing what you know now, you wondered if you ever were that smart. Your brain remembered you being clever, but honestly, you now cringed at the words you had said to the weasel behind the glass.

You smiled at that. Your departure from him that day had been perfectly timed. If this was a movie your father probably would have found you before he answered your question. But life gave you another mystery to solve.

You would have to ask him when he returned. Why did he go along with an annoying know-it-all nine-year-old?

That was… If he even came back alive.

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. Your friend. Your best friend. Your only true friend. You had to get out of here and give it to him. It was the only way.

You took a deep breath in and tried to remember all you could from the rest of the day to try and summarize it to Fury.

It was honestly a pain since this was more than 6 years ago, so how could you remember every detail?

Still, you tried. Your mind walking back to your past self and seeing as clear as you could what had happened after you had guessed who he was.

NEW YORK 2012

Loki expected a reaction, a scream, a flinch. Anything. But you just staring at him was not exactly what he had in mind. 

Your eyes didn’t look at him with the judgement, fear nor resentment that many others looked him with. There was only curiosity. And a slight level of cuteness that Loki didn’t want to admit thanks to your tilted head and slightly pursed lips.

“So…” You finally started. “You are… Evil?” You slowly tried to wrap your head around that fact.

It did make sense, in a way. Since the first thing you felt after looking at him was fear. His evil smile honestly freaked you out, but there were mixed signals to you.

He had complimented you, listened to you and talked to you without complaining about you being annoying a single time.

He opened his mouth to answer but the sound of boots alerted you both and you snapped your heads towards the door. As it opened you scrambled to your feet and you noticed that Loki was already up.

“(Y/N)! Daughter!” You heard your father’s voice. 

He came in the room, his eyes frantic and filled with fear. His body becoming rigid when he saw the unnerving man standing behind you.

You, however, just smiled and bounced on you feet wiggling your fingers at him nervously. “Hi, dad." 

"I told you not to go near the bad guy!” He reached for you and took you by the shoulders starting to lead you out of the room.

“But it was blondie who left me-” You tried to excuse but he didn’t let you.

“I don’t even want to know how you got past the door! Did you figure out the combination? How? You are just nine! The possibilities for it are endless!” He kept ranting desperately trying to make sense of the situation.

Just as the doors were closing behind you you turned and waved smiling brightly at Loki. 

“Bye Loki! See you next time!”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING-?”

Your father’s shouts were cut short as the door closed behind you. Loki wasn’t able to hear more of the argument or of your father’s ranting. Which was, in all honesty, a relief. You obviously hadn’t inherited your brain and charm from him. Maybe your physical features, but he didn’t know much about him to make any solid conclusions.

One thing was for sure, your dad was just a regular agent, so there wasn’t much to exploit there. Not that he would want to kidnap you, he had already decided not to hurt Barton’s family, so why would he come even close to hurting you now that he had a notion of who you were?

He refocused his mind. This had been a nice distraction, but he knew why he was there. He knew why he was going along with this plan and he wasn’t going to let a mere child distract him from his goal. 

He had to finish what he started, and yet there was something inside of himself that wandered, all the while he did his escape. 

All the while The Hulk caused rampage in the helicarrier.

All the while he opened the portal to the Chitauri.

All the while he flew across the destruction that New York had become with the invasion.

All the while he was finally smashed to the ground and immobilized.

And all the while he was taken into custody back to Asgard…

That made his brain flash your innocent smile.

To be continued…

[hobicomeholla29]

'Opposite Sides' - One-Shot

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff/ Slice of life

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Racism topics

A/N: 

Summary: The reason why, unconciously, Namjoon might want to keep his feelings on the DL, but as always, he finds growth from the situation 

Masterlist

~°•☆•°~°•☆•°~°•☆•°~°•☆•°~°•☆•°~°•☆•°~°•☆•°~

'2:00AM'

The clock in your living room creates a very dim light, that barely reveals your car keys laying in front of it.

You stand in your kitchen carefully cleasing the hand of your late night visitor, who seems to have no boundaries when it comes to respecting your sleep.

You could say you have a soft spot for him, since you consider yourself one of the grumpiest people on the planet when woken up and so far, you haven't bitten his head off yet.

While cleansing the cut in his hand, he flinches and tries to pull it away, but you pull back at it and stare him down hard, making him avoid your gaze and reluctantly lets you continue.

You took your time cleaning the wound, seeing that when he got here it looked pretty deep, but it seemed to have just been the blood pooling in his hand.

Once the area around the cut finally seemed to be completely clean, you made pressure on it to check if it wasn't bleeding anymore.

Since the bleeding seemed to have ceased, you took this opportunity to get up and go get your first aid kit.

You took some gauze and bandages to wrap this clumsy man's hand and get this awkward visit over with.

You never understood him, he tells people he isn't very fond of you, tells Bang PD that he barely knows you.

When he is put on the spotlight he says you are barely acquaintances.

He has even denied knowing you in your presence.

So why exactly do you always end up taking care of him or helping him in weird situations.

Here he is with a cut in the middle of his hand, stating he was going to have a late night snack and broke a plate by accident.

So, in the middle of the night, 5 floors above yours he decided he wanted to be taken care of by you.

Why?

This isn't his first odd move and you know this well.

Last week, when him and they boys were in Mexico, he called you to find out how to ask for directions in Spanish.

He literally has a huge crew that have translators included.

Lucky for him, on that Bon Voyage episode all the fans are able to see is him turning his back to the camera but here is no audio.

To fans, it will seem like nothing, but to the crew, the rest of BTS and Bang PD that was a huge red flag, since they knew who he was talking to.

Also, do you remember that one time he ran out of the dorms telling Jin, he couldn't eat meat because he was now a vegetarian.

Only to run to the grocery store to buy steaks and then go to your apartment and offering to make you dinner that night.

When Jin called you asking if you'd seen him and you explained the situation, Jin reminded you of that last time you were at their dorm and you and him were discussing how long it had been since you had a nice steak while Namjoon was entering the kitchen.

It's not a secret to you that he probably has a crush on you but doesn't know how to put it out there, but we aren’t 12 years old and we can't play these games.

You try to put yourself in his shoes, maybe he's scared of the reaction people would have if they found out he was crushing hard on a non-korean woman.

A mixed afro-latina woman, for that matter.

But this contradicting situation-ship you are in, is not of your liking.

He comes to you, does what he came to do and leaves.

That's how its been for the last 4 months.

The man could be the flash's cousin for crying out loud.

It feels like 1 night stands but with out the sex.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♤~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is moment right here is the longest he's ever been in your presence without blurting some type of lie or excuse.

"Y/N"

His voice brought you back from your thoughts.

So you glanced up at him to let him know you heard.

'I-'

'You don't have to say anything Joonito'

By now he was used to you mixing Korean and Spanish all the time, it is how you practiced the two languages to avoid forgetting about one of them.

'No- I want to'

You watched him expectantly.

'I know I'm probably the crappiest person you know and I know I always give you weird attitudes.'

He pauses but you remain quite.

'I know I sometimes Act like I want you and sometimes I act like I don't know who you are and I ignore you when we're near my job but the thing is I really want this'

'What is "this"?'

'Us, I want us to happen, I want to hold your hand in public and take you out on dates and take you anywhere you want to go... but I'm scared that...'

'...that people will judge us....judge you...'

'Yes...'

'Joonito, no one is forcing you into doing those things with me, you don’t have to be with me, you can get any woman you want '

'But I want ... you'

'Yeah, pero, how bad do you want me? Do you want me a little bit for the fun and the benefits or do you want me seriously? With the hate that will come from this?'

Namjoon has known you for some time now and he is very aware that you are a woman that doesn't play around and cuts to the chase.

You tend to blurt out the first thing that's on your mind and speak your mind without regrets.

So he has been mentally preparing for this moment for the last couple of months.

It's not that he does not know what he wants, but that he cares too much about what other people had to say about him and his desicions.

'Your hand is done and if so is this conversation, then you know where the door is'

You went to walk away as he caught your arm in is hand.

'I want it seriously... but I can't do it now , not while I'm at the peak of my career'

'Then I take it as a game and I'm pretty sure I am not a toy'

Once again he tried to stop you.

'Y/n, it's not, but can you just play along for a while? When the boys see us we.... you know...act like nothing's happening and when they are gone we can be a couple'

Is he even listening to himself.

This isn't about people finding out, its about the shame he feels for who you are.

'Namjoon, I've known you guys for 2 years and in the last 4 months you've treated me worse than how you treat seafood, estas loco?! I am not ashamed of myself and wont allow you to do that to me.... just leave'

3:00AM

'Y/n'

'Leave'

You are now clear that this 'situation-ship is OVER.

Namjoon slowly walks towards the entrance, however his slow walk is only him buying himself some time to think about all decisions he can make at the moment and how will it affect the future, so right then and there is the only moment he had to get out of his comfort zone.

'Y/n... I just want to tell you one thing before I leave'

'Go on'

'Maybe....maybe I am afraid of what there is to come with being with someone who is different from everyone else in this country, maybe I am being selfish by asking you to hide our relationship due to my insecurities, but if there is something I am not afraid of, is learning knew things and sometimes these new things are learned only through life experiences'

You watched him intently as if waiting for him to continue his little speech.

'I can promise you that i will work hard on not having these feeling of shame for something dumb and I promise that I will stand by you and educate any ignorant person with an ignorant comment just like how you've done with me in the past.'

By now, you are resting on your kitchen wall holding your right arm with your left hand, while staring at the floor.

It's not like you don’t have feelings for him, but it's already hard enough to fend for yourself when it comes to racist comments, now having these comments show up because of who you love is a whole different story that you are not sure any if you are ready to handle.

'All I'm asking Y/n is to give me a chance, to show you I really want this, that I really want you.

The boys already know how I feel about you, so there is really nothing to hide anymore.

I think the staff has caught me way too many times staring at you while filming.

I'll learn, I promise, just let us try'

During his little speech he had managed to walk back towards you and held both of your hands in his.

'What are you going to tell the boys next time they ask about me?'

'I'll tell them that I'm working my way up to make you my girlfriend and that's what I'm telling anyone who asks'

'....ok...'

You smiled at him.

His smile back at you was so huge that his dimples seemed to be deeper.

'We can keep it from Bang PD for a while if you want'

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, I think it will help you get used to it with the boys first'

If he could take big steps for you, you were sure you could make the trip a bit easier on him by taking one step at a time.

'Thanks beautiful, you're the best'

[dceshims-blog]

↳ damn, is that MOON DAESHIM ? the IM CHANGKYUN lookalike gotten quite the reputation around here. the 23 year old RAPPER / PRODUCER has been in london for ONE year now. people say they are only HEDONISTIC + SELF DESTRUCTIVE, but they’re actually CHARMING + ADVENTUROUS once you get to know them. don’t get too comfortable, though, no one knows HIS AGENCY / COMPANY PAID TO HAVE SOMETHING HE DID HIDDEN FROM THE WORLD.

 HIYA  HEY  HELLO,  i'm  gem,  i'm  21+,  i  go  by  she  her  pronouns  &  live  in  the  cst  !  i'm  also  a  hot  mess  who  likes  hurting  my  characters  ...  hence  the  reason  that  dae's  life  is  as  big  of  a  mess  as  it  is.  he's  a  new  character,  which  means  not  everything  is  fleshed  out  like  i  would  like  it  to  be  but  you  can  find  his  basic  information,  stats,  bullet  point  bio,  personality  &  a  few  wanted  connections  ideas  under  the  cut  !  

tw:  mentions  of  alcohol  abuse,  drug  abuse,  car  accidents,  hit  and  run  scenario,  death  &  injuries  !

                                         basic  information.

full  name:  moon  daeshim. nickname(s):  moon,  dae,  shimmy,  daedae.  (  the  last  one  is  use  by  his  mother  &  mother  ONLY  ) age:  twenty-three. date  of  birth:  tbd. birthplace:  daegu,  south  korea. gender:  cismale. pronouns:  he  /  him  /  his. orientation:  pansexual. occupation:  rapper,  producer,  composer. language(s)  spoken:  korean,  english,  japanese,  chinese,  thai,  french  &  spanish.

                                    physical  appearance.

faceclaim:  im  changkyun  (  i.m  )  of  monsta  x. hair  color:  changes  pretty  frequently,  currently  black. eye  color:  brown. height:  6  ’  0  ". weight:  175. build:  athletic. tattoos:  quite  a  few,  far  to  many  to  name  ...  mostly  black  &  grey. piercings:  7  in  his  left  ear,  8  in  his  right,  tongue  piercing,  eyebrow  piercing  on  his  left  brow  &  scars  from  old  snake  bites  under  his  bottom  lip.

                                                    health.

physical  ailments:  alcohol  abuse,  drug  abuse. neurological  conditions:  n/a. allergies:  seasonal  ailments. sleeping  habits:  3-4  hours,  restless,  tosses  &  turns. eating  habits:  lives  of  of  fast  food  &  take  out  usually,  sometimes  goes  to  'fancier'  places. exercise  habits:  has  personal  trainers  who  he  works  out  with  three  times  a  week. body  temperature:  hot  natured. addictions:  alcohol,  tobacco,  drugs,  sex. drug  use:  frequent. alcohol  use:  frequent.

                                       personality. (  pt  1.  )

label:  tbd.

positive  traits:  charming  &  adventurous. negative  traits:  hedonistic  &  self-destructive. fears:  tbd. hobbies:  cooking,  video  games,  shopping,  board  games,  swimming,  poker,  going  to  the  movies,  traveling,  exercising,  eating  out. habits:  jiggles  leg  up  &  down,  taps  feet  on  occasion,  runs  fingers  through  hair  often,  constantly  glances  at  his  watch,  rolls  his  eyes,  cracks  knuckles  /  bones,  shifts  in  his  seat  when  nervous  /  irritated,  clenches  jaw,  gestures  when  speaking,  props  feet  up  on  desks  /  tables,  constantly  checks  his  phone. quirks:  wears  a  lot  of  jewelry,  good  with  technology,  paces  back  &  forth  when  in  deep  thought  or  when  nervous,  mumbles  to  himself  on  occasion,  constantly  on  social  media,  bites  &  chews  on  lips,  night  owl,  addicted  to  texting,  can  play  musical  instruments,  dyes  his  hair  a  different  color  constantly,  addicted  to  caffeinated  drinks,  always  has  to  have  the  'best’  of  everything  he  owns,  has  to  have  a  fan  on  to  sleep,  chews  ice  cubes.

                                              favorites.

season:  fall,  winter. color(s):  matte  black,  chrome,  army  green,  gold  &  silver. music:  will  listen  to  anything  as  long  as  he  likes  it,  doesn’t  matter  what genre. movies:  watches  pretty  much  everything,  mostly  enjoys  suspense,  action  &  comedy. sport(s):  doesn’t  really  care  for  sports,  watches  it  if  it's  on  at  bars. beverage(s):  anything  and  everything,  other  than  sparkling  water. food:  anything  from  luxurious  5  star  meals  to  instant  ramen  cooked  at  home. animal:  dogs.

                                                  family.

father: tbd. mother: tbd. sibling(s):  n/a. children:  n/a. pet(s):  tbd. family’s  financial  status:  upper  class.

                                                  extras.

zodiac sign:  tbd. mbti:  entp-a.  (  the  debater.  ) enneagram:  type  eight. (  the  challenger.  ) temperament:  sanguine. hogwarts  house:  slytherin. moral  alignment:  tbd. primary  vice:  tbd. primary  virtue:  tbd. element:  fire.

                                             biography.

born  in  daegu,  south  korea  to  two  extremely  wealthy  parents.

his  father  was  a  very  well  known  idol,  his  mother  a  fashion  designer.

meaning  that  dae  was  in  the  spotlight  since  BIRTH,  he's  never  known  anything  other  than  fame  &  fortune.

that  of  course,  went  to  his  head  from  a  very,  very  young  age  &  it  caused  this  sort  of  god  complex  in  him.

his  nannies  HATED  having  to  work  for  his  parents  &  take  care  of  him  because  he  made  their  lives  a  living  hell  basically.  not  because  he  was  MEAN  or  something  like  that  but  because  he  was  just  picky  &  was  used  to  getting  what  he  wanted.

which  did  cause  him  to  be  bratty  &  he  did  have  the  tendency  to  throw  fits  when  he  didn't  get  what  he  wanted,  always  going  to  his  parents  whenever  the  nannies  wouldn't  give  dae  what  he  wanted  &  they'd  end  up  either  quitting  or  getting  fired.

things  didn't  really  change  through  the  years,  to  be  honest.  he  got  less  'whiny'  about  things,  but  was  still  use  to  just  asking  for  whatever  he  wanted  &  getting  it  as  soon  as  humanly  possible.

he  was  fourteen  when  he  first  started  showing  interest  in  music,  though  he  didn't  follow  in  his  father's  footsteps  by  becoming  a  trainee.  he  was  more  into  producing  &  composing  than  anything.

it  wasn't  until  a  few  years  later  that  he  started  rapping  to  the  music  he  was  composing  in  order  to  try  &  get  them  bought  by  companies.

people  thought  that  he  was  actually  wanting  to  be  a  rapper  instead  of  just  a  producer  /  composer,  so  when  the  companies  kept  asking  him  if  he  was  interested  in  being  a  rapper,  he  figured  why  not.

that  was  the  start  of  his  career,  his  first  mini-album  skyrocketed  his  name  further  into  fame,  quickly  becoming  the  most  talked  about  rookie  in  the  business.

things  only  got  better  from  there,  each  album  he  dropped  debuted  at  the  top  of  charts,  keeping  his  name  in  the  spotlight  CONSTANTLY.

after  years  of  that,  things  started  getting  to  him  ...  the  stress  of  always  having  to  drop  something  new  and  fresh  caused  daeshim  to  start  to  spiral,  drinking  &  doing  drugs  almost  every  night  as  a  way  to  get  away  from  all  of  it  even  if  it  was  just  for  a  few  hours.

this  started  the  rumor  mill  to  begin,  articles  of  his  partying  ways,  the  clubbing  &  everything  like  that  starting  to  pile  up  one  after  the  next.  as  well  as  the  rumors  and  scandals  of  his  nudes  being  leaked  &  him  taking  home  as  many  people  he  wanted  to  because  he  truly  just  didn't  care  about  his  image  or  anything  like  that.

it  was  his  twentith  birthday  that  would  change  EVERYTHING  for  dae.  he'd  decided  to  go  out,  celebrate  by  drinking  &  going  wild  for  the  night  ...  stupidly  driving  home  from  the  club  that  night.

mid-way  home  he  happened  to  get  into  a  crash,  car  getting  totaled  as  well  as  a clipping  a  few  passer-bys ...  causing  one  to  pass  away  &  the  other  to  get  severely  injured  as  well  as  dae  getting  a  laundry  list  of  injuries  as  well.

he  was  okay  enough  to  walk  away  from  the  incident,  though  not  without  some  problems  of  his  own...  walking  back  to  his  agent's  home  as  it  was  the  closest  thing  he  could  get  to.

he  wasn't  expecting  his  agent  to  instantly  try  and  cover  everything  up,  calling  doctors  to  come  visit  daeshim  at  his  home,  sending  people  out  to  clean  up  the  scene  of  the  accident  &  make  sure  that  the  people  who  were  witnesses  or  involved  were  paid  off  to  keep  their  mouth  shut.

that  guilt  weighed  on  him  pretty  instantly,  his  injuries  being  hidden  from  the  media  while  they  healed  and  the  other  people  involved  continued  to  be  paid  off  so  that  no  one  knew  what  had  happened.

he  dealt  with  all  of  that  for  a  few  years  but  after  a  while,  he  couldn't  do  it  anymore.  deciding  to  publicly  declare  he'd  be  taking  a  break  from  making  music,  producing  &  composing...  taking  time  out  for  himself  &  his  own  mental  health  &  wellbeing.

it  was  only  a  week  after  that  when  dae  found  himself  in  london,  hoping  to  be  able  to  start  over  the  best  as  he  could.

                                    personality. ( pt 2. )

literally  the  Worst.

is  a  rich  bitch  and  makes  sure  EVERYONE  knows  that  even  if  he  doesn’t  speak  it… comes  in  the  form  of  his  clothing,  sports  cars,  accessories… literally  everything.

has  kinda  made  a  name  for  himself  in  the  london  that  isn't  to  far  off  from  what  the  media  constantly  talked  about  and  that's  him  being  a  Party  Animal.  goes  to  clubs  /  bars  every  weekend  (  sometimes  more  frequently  depending  on  his  mood.  )  as  well  as  a  bit  of  a  'player’.

extremely  hedonistic  and  a  bit  of  a  shopaholic.  is  always  seen  with  the  latest  &  greatest  makes  and  models  of  things.  always  has  designer  clothes  on.  always  is  out  shopping  for  something  new  at  least  three  times  a  week,  sometimes  more.

can  be  pretty  cocky  at  times,  he  knows  how  he  looks,  he  knows  how  much  money  he  has  and  sometimes  he  lets  that  go  to  his  head  &  his  ego.  though  he  TRIES  not  to  be  like  that  just  because  he  honestly  can’t  stand  when  other  people  boast  about  their  wealth  or  looks  on  a  daily  basis.

is  actually  really  relaxed  when  it  comes  down  to  it,  as  much  as  he  loves  to  party…  there’s  a  part  of  him  that  just  loves  lounging  at  home  watching  movies  just  as  much.  but  usually  refuses  to  do  so  alone,  will  invite  someone  to  come  over  just  so  he  doesn’t  have  to  be  in  his  (  cough…. giant …  cough  )  house  alone.

tends  to  hate  being  told  what  to  do.  comes  from  having  to  conform  to  what  his  agent  /  company  wanted  him  to  do  &  say  for  as  many  years  as  he  did  so  now  he’d  rather  just  do  what  he  wants,  when  he  wants  to  do  it  and  because  of  that  he  can  be  a  little  bit  selfish  sometimes.

he  wants  to  be  able  to  LIVE  and  have  fun,  do  what  he  wants  on  his  own  terms  and  go  from  there.

genuinely  not  a  bad  person,  though  his  ego  &  cockiness  sometimes  tend  to  cover  that  side  of  him  up. as  well  as  the  grief  &  guilt  of  what  he’s  done  in  the  past  causing  him  to  be  extremely  guarded.

loves  to  SPOIL  the  people  he  knows,  if  he  goes  out  shopping,  he’s  probably  buying  something  for  his  friends  in  the  process.  

is  the  type  of  person  that  just  loves  to  give  people  shit  but  does  so  in  a  loving  &  caring  way.  aka  will  roast  you  but  then  offer  to  take  you  to  dinner  or  something  like  that.

he’s …  trying.  not  trying  his  BEST,  sure.  but  he  is  still  trying  and  ig  that  counts  for  something,  right  ?

                                                plot ideas.

flirtationship.  he  absolutely  LOVES  to  flirt  his  ass  off…  with  whoever  he  can  because why  the  hell  not  ?

enemies.  whatever  the  reason  might  be,  they  just  don’t  get  along.  maybe  they  just  bicker  back  and  forth  or  perhaps  they  actually  just  despise  each  other  in  general.

hate  sex.  lsn… i’m  a  sucker  for  this  and  there’s  a  lot  of  reasons  someone  could  dislike  or  hate  dae  &  well  he  also  like  sex  so  why  not  pair  the  two  things  ?

best  friends.  he’s  never  really  had  anyone  he  fully  thought  he  could  rely  on  or  lean  on,  so  someone  he  met  here  who  he  bonded  with  instantly  would  be  gREAT.

will  add  more  as  i  think  of  them  !

[trashcanband4]

Father Daughter Duo Ch.2

Chapter 1 Chapter 3  Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter Title: Traveling. Pairing: Eventual Daryl x Oc. Setting: Before the Prison, still not into the story line of the tv show. Word Count: 2,375. Warnings: attempted rape in this chapter and rape in a future chapter along with other messed up situations. You have been warned. Note: Also another crap/builder chapter.

I had always been attached to my dad. Even though I never went hunting with him or even participated in target practice. I was always around him, always there to hand him tools when he needed them or hold the flashlight as he worked on his truck, Old Red, that he tried his best to keep in good condition even though we never seemed to have enough money to buy the parts that he needed. I was always quiet and always did what I was asked. He was a hard, stern, and short tempered man, but he had his small ways of showing how much he cared. When my mother died and the world pretty much came to an end it only made his fuse that much shorter.

So when we figured out that the place in Atlanta that was supposed to be safe was a danger zone we set out together in search of living people. We found some in an old nursing home. Most of them were Mexican and were always speaking Spanish, but they welcomed us when they figured out that we weren't there to take their weapons and medical supplies. The fact that we had raided a small sporting goods store helped, because they needed all the protection they could get. We stayed there for quite a while and had I started to come out of my shy shell. I was getting to know the people. Surprisingly Dad had too, even though he had always been a bit racist.

Guillermo, the leader of the group, and I had became friends and he had even started teaching me how to speak Spanish when ever we had the time. My dad kept telling me that I needed to be learning how to defend myself and not useless stuff like learning a different language, but at that time I felt safe enough not to bother with gun lessons.

"Usted es un hombre guapo" Guillermo told me to say it so I tried to mimic his perfect accent. I guess I got it right because he flashed his perfect teeth at me in a big smile. "You're not so bad looking yourself." I blushed and looked at myself. I was nothing special. My dishwater brown hair was a mess of waves, there were a few zits on my face, and I had lost a little weight over the past two weeks, but I was still what I liked to call full figured even thought I was a little bigger than that.

I looked up at Guillermo feeling the heat on my cheeks as he put his hand on my face. The nice warmth of his skin against mine didn't last long though, because we heard my dad clear his throat from the door way of the storage room we were working in. His eyes were hard as he grabbed me by the arm and gently pulled me out into the hallway.

"Ya can't trust guys around ya like that baby girl. Yer twenty years old ya should know that men are gonna try to take advantage of ya." I shocked myself when I rolled my eyes at him. "I don't think he's that kind of guy, but still, don't be alone with him from now on ok?"

"Yeah, ok." He was about to walk away. "Hey Dad?" he turned around and looked at me with the usual hard expression he wore on his face now days. "Wanna teach me how to use this thing?" I held up the gun and he nodded. We were walking down the hallway when we heard everyone screaming. The nursing home had somehow been over run. There is no doubt that I would have died that day if it wasn't for my dad. My back was against the wall, literally, and a walker was at my front as I screamed and struggled to hold it off of me. Dad swooped in, shot the walker with his shot gun and shoved me to the back door of the building. We ran and jumped into Old Red and left the city for good. Soon we were driving through a little town that I wasn't familiar with and neither of us had spoken since we left the massacre of the old group. "Hey Dad," I broke the silence and he hummed at me letting me know he was listening. "Thanks for saving me back there."

"Yer my daughter, I'll always save ya." I was quiet again for a while.

"Hey Dad," he hummed again. "I love ya."

"I love ya too Bay." After that he started explaining everything about the guns as we drove. He taught me what bullet went with what gun and how to load and clean all of them. Though, he told me not to try cleaning the gun unless he was there to help me, because it was a bit complicated.

It took us a month of traveling to find the next group and I knew the second we were easily welcomed into the creepy church that we wouldn't be staying there for long. To say the people that inhabited the place were over religious would be an understatement. They were dead set on repopulating the earth. All the females of "eligible age", which from what I could tell was 14 years old, were pregnant and all of the men were pigs. The leader of the group insisted that I wear the same drab pastel colored home sewn dresses of all the other women and that I give my gun and knife to my father. I did as I was asked because these were, after all, living people.

It was our second week there and I was sleeping on a twin sized cot in a spare room of the church when I felt my covers move. A hand covered my mouth stifling my scream as a guy slipped into my bed. "Shush." The man who whispered to me flipped me over onto my back. The face of Matt, one of the younger men in the group who was with a woman who was seven months pregnant with his baby, was above my face. I struggled to get away from him, but he got on top of me and held me down. "Time to have some fun." He never took his hand off of my mouth. I was hitting him and pushing at him with my free hand but it was pointless. "Don't act like you don't want me. I see the way you look at me." He removed his hand from my mouth only to replace it with his mouth and force his tongue onto mine. He tasted disgusting, but the revolting taste was soon replaced by the coppery one of blood because I caught his tongue between my teeth and bit down as hard as I could. He screamed and slapped me and I took the opportunity to scream my head off in hopes that my dad would hear me.

The next thing I knew Matt was being pulled up off of me. The sickening crunch of a bone being broken mixed together with a scream and a thud as Matt hit the nearby brick wall. Dad grabbed my hand and pulled me up out of the bed then stuffed all my things into my bag and tossed it to me. We made a quick stop by his room where we grabbed all of his things and he shoved a gun into my hand. "We're getting' out of here. These people are batshit crazy. I ain't havin' some kid tryin' nock up my Bailey bug." He hadn't called me that in a long time. We snuck out of the church through the back door then once again hopped into Old Red and were on the road again.

A week later we were scavenging through a store miles away from Atlanta when we heard the bell above the door ring followed by heavy footsteps that could only belong to men. Dad pulled me down behind the cash register. I looked at him waiting to know what we were supposed to do. He looked at me with the same light blue eyes that were on my face and held his finger over his mouth. "That little red head's a nice piece of ass. What are we going to do with her when we're done?" I heard a cheerful male voice ask.

"What we did with all the rest, kill her." Another man who replied sounded completely disinterested in the question. I looked at Dad with wide eyes. I knew what the men were talking about and I was afraid that my fate would be the same if we didn't make it out of this. He held his hand out palm down and made a motion like he was bouncing a ball, 'stay calm'. I took a quiet and slow deep breath before I nodded. He looked at the gun in my hands, which I had gotten good at shooting over the days of traveling and scavenging, and raised his eyebrows. 'Are you good on ammo?' I nodded my head again and he looked around the cash register quickly taking a peek at the men then continued our silent conversation. I was supposed to shoot the man on the left and he was supposed to shoot the man on the right. He held up three fingers and began counting down. As soon as the last finger went down we popped up from behind the register and shot them both. Dad landed a shot straight to a severely plump mans forehead and my bullet hit a man with a bald head and dark goatee in the shoulder.

We hightailed it back to the truck dodging bullets from other men we didn't know were outside. It was a miracle that we got out of there unharmed. After that we stuck to scavenging random houses in rural areas. This was fine with me, because Dad being the kind to think ahead, gathered things like seeds, tools, and what ever guns and ammo he might find. I, on the other hand, gathered things like clothing, blankets and cooking supplies. I even managed to find some knitting needles and a good supply of yarn. I liked to crochet, knit and almost every thing crafty like that. Before the world went to heck I had started up my own little business selling stuff made out of duct tape. Like flower pens, purses, clutches and wallets. Everyone always thought these were useless skills that were only good for lazy antisocial people. Well, they were wrong.

Anyway, we had been staying in an abandoned farm house out in the woods for a while, because the walker population here seemed minimal and we were tired of sleeping in Old Red. I was sitting by one of the widows watching for my father when he came walking up the rotting porch steps with his newly found compound bow and two squirrels in hand. I wrinkled my nose as I walked out on the porch and he told me to be thankful for what food I got. "I am thankful, I just like rabbit better." He laughed.

"That's my girl." He smiled at me and squeezed my shoulder approvingly. "The only wild animal your mother would eat was deer." I looked at the floor missing my mom and neither of us said anything after that. Dad just skinned and cleaned the squirrel then I cooked it on the gas stove that was in the house. We had just finished eating the bland meat when Dad broke the silence. "I saw a prison when I was huntin' earlier. The place was swarming with walkers, just roaming around, trapped in the fences. I would say I felt sorry for them, but they were all inmates." I thought about what he was saying wondering how the prisoners would have gotten infected if they were all kept in cells.

The little farm house was fine, but we were running out of places to scavenge and gas for the truck was getting scarce. We were constantly having to run from the dead as well as the living. Him mentioning the fences gave me an idea. "Hey Dad." He looked up from the knife he was sharpening. "What if we could kill all of the eaters in the prison and live there from now on?"

"Are you serious?" he had his eyebrows raised at me and a joking look on his face.

"Yeah from the way you talk just camping in the yard would be better protection than staying here. If those fences can hold in that many walkers it could hold them out too, right?" he seemed to think about it for a while.

"We will check it out in the morning. Right now you just go get some sleep. I'll stay and watch out for another one of those herds." I did as he said and went into the bedroom and went to sleep.

Dad woke me up around two in the morning, judging from the battery powered clock on the night stand, for me to take watch. The night went by fast in the anticipation of seeing the prison that Dad was talking about. He came out of the house at sunrise and he started putting all the stuff in the truck. "Dad what are you doin'? I thought we were goin' to the prison." I had been anticipating a hike, not a drive.

"We are. I think I know how to get there without cutting' through the woods. If I do find it we can hide the truck there and we wont have to leave it at this house and hike to it every time we need to go somewhere." I didn't say anything back. I just put my gun on the dash and got in the truck.

We drove for a good while and I was starting to wonder if Dad had gotten us lost. I was about to ask him about it when the prison came into sight. I stared open mouthed at it and I heard Dad chuckle from the driver's seat. "Ya still want to live here?" I couldn't speak.

Daryl Tags: @jodiereedus22 @mtngirlforever @zzeacat @winchester-angel@moodygrip @beegnc @hells-mistress @lighthope08 @sapphire1727@luisadontcurr @chloebabyboo @ilkaeliseb @twdeadfanfic @ravengalaxia@1lluminaticonfirmed @my-current-fandom-is @nikkiloves-bailey @coffeebooksandfandom @lonewolf471 @gruffle1 @mblaqgi @calumstuffs@beltzboys2015-blog @neontiger007  @lonewolf471 @sourwolf-sterek32 @dixonluvv @dotslabyrinth @kayln97​ @art-flirt​

[callioope]

Questions Meme!

Hello, yes, this HAS in fact been sitting in my drafts for ages and ages. Thank you to both @crazy-fruit and @ruby-red-inky-blue for tagging me and for waiting forever for me to answer (oops)! I’m sorry I took so long, but y’all ask really good questions and I had to think about some of them!

Question Set 1

1. How are you?

Oh, I’m doing alright! Thank you for asking. The earlier part of this year was rather rough, but therapy has been helping. I’ve been rather busy these past few weeks with traveling, and my schedule going forward is rather busy, too, so while I’m excited for those things, I’m also excited for the eventual moment I can just relax.

2. What would you say are your talents?

Writing. Making fancy color-coded spreadsheets. I’ve been told that my super power is getting random (annoying) songs stuck in other people’s heads. Does that count as a talent? 

3. If you had the chance to start your life again, would you take it?

NOPE. No thanks. I like where I am at right now, and I would not want to relive my awkward years. Er, at least, my more awkward, younger years. Cuz I’m totally still awkward. Just less awkward. I hope?

4. Which language would you like to speak instantly? 

HMM. ALL OF THEM. It’s really hard to choose! 

Language fascinates me, and in another life I feel like I would have devoted a lot more time to learning more of them. Unfortunately, I really hated German class in high school because of the teacher’s tendency to put people on the spot -- I think that is sort of inherent in a language class, but I get anxiety speaking in public. 

Anyways, I suppose I’ll answer Turkish to this question, since spouse and I keep saying we’re going to try to learn Turkish via Duolingo. For the record, my HS offered six languages, which was the most I’ve ever heard of an American school offering, and I was always quite happy with my choice of German. (The others were Spanish, French, Italian, Chinese, and Latin.) I do wish I had maintained my German better, and I that I had more time to learn Spanish. 

5. Where would you like to be right now?

Honestly? I’m pretty happy when I’m at home. But if I had to answer where “else” would I like to be right now, out of the whole world? Being back on safari in Botswana is a top contender, as are a variety of places in Turkey, and also Munich. 

6. What name would you give yourself?

I’ve always liked my actual name (Elizabeth). I know I go by Liz; one of my HS friends was quite stubborn and I’m a bit stuck with it now, but I don’t mind it. There are worse nicknames that come from Elizabeth. I used to go by Fiona online; I’ve always been fond of that one. 

7. What is something you’re currently learning?

OOF, what a good question. I sorta blanked on this at first, and my first thought was uhhhh learning how to cope with my OCD??? I’m doing exposure therapy right now, ish. Emphasis on the ish. Also mindfulness. Does that really even count? I started a beginner’s knitting project several months ago that I never finished, does that count? (I just need to seam it, that’s what I’m putting off. I have knit plenty of scarves; however, this is my first hat.) I’m sort of teaching myself ukulele although I haven’t really learned any new chords or songs in awhile. I would very much like to take more photography classes with a focus on wildlife photography. That involves buying a new camera and... signing up for classes. 

Question Set 2

1. What is a detail in a piece of art/a text that you like that you really admire?

This was very difficult, at first because it was like looking at a bin full of loose things and just seeing an assortment of color and being overwhelmed by it all, and then because once I did start digging around, I kept finding different ideas and it was too hard too choose.

Character-building: In the A Song of Ice and Fire series, when Arya starts working for the House of Black and White, Martin stops using the name “Arya” as she dons different identities. For example, he uses “Cat” for a bit, among other names. It shows she’s trying to be someone else, but the caveat is that there are still little mannerisms and such that show she hasn’t really left Arya behind (I think maybe she bites her lip or something? I don’t remember specific examples because it’s been over 5 years since I read these books, but I do remember really appreciating the general technique at the time). 

Music: In The Beatles’ “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” I love those repeated arpeggios, over and over, building, intensifying, as the white noise comes in and you can just feel the heaviness of desire, of want... (and then I love how it just breaks so suddenly! And I know it wouldn’t have been intended this way because that’s the end of side one, but since I listen to the whole album on spotify, then those bright chords of “Here Comes the Sun” come in and god Abbey Road is the best Beatles album)

Writing: the poetry of Florence + The Machine’s “All This and Heaven Too,” obviously, since literally the title of my blog comes from that. I’d quote that whole song honestly. There’s something that speaks to me about the incapability of language to fully encompass just... everything. I mean, love in specific here, but also just everything. Words are just these little boats we put meaning on and we hope they make it to the other side but everyone takes ‘em a little differently. 

Like, look at this: 

And the words are all escaping, and coming back all damaged And I would put them back in poetry if I only knew how 

And this: 

Words were never so useful So I was screaming out a language that I never knew existed before

Anyways, there’s also something just incredibly soothing about the music, too, and how she sings the song. There’s another line, from Sara Bareilles’ “Miss Simone” that goes “How does she know what a heart sounds like?” which pretty much sums up how I feel about “All This and Heaven Too” (and also many of Sara Bareilles’ song, especially that particular album, but I digress).

Anyways I did have some art examples, but I think I’ve rambled long enough.

2. Is there an idea that you really liked but had to discard because you couldn’t get it to work?

If I really like an idea, I don’t really “discard” it so much as put it on the shelf to attempt later. Out of recent fic ideas, I’ve really struggled with “How to Lose a Spy in 10 Days.” I first thought of this in late spring 2017, and for awhile I couldn’t stop thinking about it, but I was working on Whatever I Do at the time, and wanted to wait before starting another WIP. By the time I got to writing this, the inspiration well had sort of dried up. 

I really like the idea of a fun cat-and-mouse rom-com idea where Jyn and Cassian keep outsmarting each other, with a whole lot of competency kink, some “oh shit we actually work well together!” and maybe some battle couple. And I was really looking forward to both the moment when they both finally let their guards down around each other and the big confrontation when they actually find out each other’s identities. But it involved more mission writing than I was prepared for, and I really struggled with it. I think I need to start over but that involves a lot of working, so it’s unfortunately shelved for now, and I’m working on a “You’ve Got Mail” concept instead.

3. Is there something fandom-related you would like to be able to do (i.e. I’d like to be able to make gif sets but can’t)?

Oh, yes, absolutely! Really anything that’s not writing related, lol. Gif sets, art, etc. But most of all, I have a music video idea for the song “So Close” from Enchanted--like I have a whole story board plotted out in a google doc. But I don’t have any video editing software, don’t even know how you get the scenes for a music video, etc. I have made videos before, but not since high school, and I don’t even have the cheap, basic video editing program I used back then. Sometimes I think I should just attempt make a gif set instead, but there are so many lyrics! and scenes that go with the lyrics! that I don’t know how to consolidate it into that format anyways. 

4. What is a skill you’ve acquired through fandom work?

Hmm, this was tough. I’m going to say HTML. I’m not up-to-date on webdesign at all, but back in my early fandom days, I ran a few fansites. I still sometimes use HTML while leaving comments or to edit posts on dreamwidth or w/e. It’s super basic, but it has helped me at work at a variety of jobs. I take it for granted that people my age should know basic HTML, but a lot of them don’t, and then a lot of people I work with now are older and definitely not tech savvy. 

5. Do you think anyone can learn to create great art, or does it take talent?

Well, I’m going to cheat a little. I do think think that anyone can learn to create great art, but I also think that everyone has a talent at something, and part of learning to create great art is recognizing your skill sets and honing those. If that makes sense? I’ve sort of seen both sides to this. I’ve seen naturally talented people create great things, but I also think that they’re probably cheating themselves if they’re not learning and honing their craft and trying to get better. But I’ve also seen people who started out making things that maybe you wouldn’t call great, but they worked hard over and over again, and looking at their work now, you’d say they were talented without ever knowing the difference. Great art = talent + learning + passion. Did that even answer the question? ...moving on

6. Do you prefer AUs or in-universe? Why?

I prefer to write in-universe, for sure. I find modern AUs more challenging, mostly because--and I feel kinda bad saying this--it’s very difficult for me to tap into Jyn and Cassian’s characters without some kind of tragic background. Their experiences and how they coped with them shape their personalities, and it’s really hard to separate them from those. My WWII was easier because, hey, it’s war, not so different from in-verse. But I initially tried to write Learning Curve in a modern AU and I was just totally bored. Putting it in universe made it more interesting to me, especially having to finagle a happier plot inverse. IDK, it might even be that I generally struggle to make up any conflict in modern AUs that feels interesting.

THAT SAID, lol, I definitely read either. So it’s probably strange for me to be hung up on it because I’ve read nice fluffy modern AUs and found them perfectly engaging.

Tagging: @theputterer, @magalis, @allatariel, @mythologicalmango, @threadsketchier  MY USUAL DISCLAIMER APPLIES: no pressure if you just don’t wanna, AND if anyone sees this and was like “aw hey i wish she’d tagged ME” well guess what, I wish I did too! so go ahead and do it and let me know and then i’ll know to tag you next time, too :-) 

Questions:

When you suffer a setback or a series of setbacks when creating (writing, drawing, knitting, any kind of crafty project thing you work on... even work), what are some strategies you use to cope with that stress and move forward?

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to create/make and what did you learn from it?

What part of a bicycle would you be?

What’s a helpful writing (art/crafting/work) technique you’ve learned?

What’s a piece of art that made you see things differently?

You’re a new addition to the crayon box. What color would you be and why?

What was the last board game you played and what did you like or not like about it?

*sorry these came out rather writer heavy!

[sybcritics-blog]

( lee jooheon, cismale, he/him, 24. ) — CHOI JUNGWOO, better known to the authorities as VULCAN, has been working for the kumiho for around SIX YEARS as a JANITOR. rumor has it, they can be DARING & KALEIDOSCOPIC but also IRASCIBLE & SYBARITIC which is why blood-stained hands, all black wardrobes, crooked smirks, and weaponry makes me think of them.

hey  demons,  it  me,  ya  girl,  gem  ...  back  at  it  again,  only  this  time  my  character  is  worst  than  the  first  one.  which  is  saying  something  because  oof  minwoo  was  an  absolute  disaster  !  so  if  that  gives  you  any  idea  as  to  how  this  shithead  is  gonna  be,  that  should  be  a  clue  !  

again,  his  whole  backstory  isn't  completely  figured  out  but  i  have  what  i've  already  figured  out  below  the  cut,  as  well  as  his  basic  information,  personality  &  some  wanted  plots  i  have  for  him  ! 

if  you  want  to  plot  with  this  lil  pyro,  smash  that  like  button  &  i'll  come  to  you  !  or  of  course,  if  you  like  d*scord  better  than  tumblr  feel  free  to  add  me  on  there  (  @𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕂𝕃𝔼𝕍𝕠𝕊𝕊!#9330 )  &  we  can  plot  from  there  !

                                         BASIC INFORMATION.

full  name:  choi  jungwoo. nickname(s):  jun,  woo. age:  twenty-four. date  of  birth:  october  31st. birthplace:  daegu,  south  korea. current  location:  seoul,  south  korea. ethnicity:  korean. nationality:  korean. gender:  cismale. pronouns:  he  /  him  /  his. orientation:  pansexual. crew  position:  janitor. occupation:  instagram  model  /  youtuber.  (  eboy  basically  ig  ) language(s)  spoken: korean,  english,   chinese,  japanese,  spanish,  greek,  thai  &  french.

                                    PHYSICAL  APPEARANCE.

face  claim:  lee  jooheon  (  joohoney  )  of  monsta  x. hair  color:  changes  frequently,  currently  dark  brown. eye  color:  brown. height:  6  '  1  ". weight:  175. build:  athletic. tattoos:  far  too  many  to  count. piercings:  multiple  in  his  ears,  a  tongue  piercing,  nipple  piercings,  a  scar  on  his  right  brow  from  an  old  brow  piercing.

                                                       HEALTH.

physical  ailments:  alcohol  abuse,  drug  abuse  & lactose  intolerance. neurological  conditions:  back  pain  &  occasional  migraines. allergies:  pollen,  mold,  dairy,  shellfish. sleeping  habits: 3-4  hours  a  night,  restless. eating  habits:  mostly  junk  food,  fast  food  &  take-out  but  he  does  enjoy  going  to  fancy  places  every  once  in  a  while  as  well  as  cooking  meals  at  home. exercise  habits:  jogs  every  morning,  is  in  a  boxing  group  that  meets  every  week. body  temperature: hot  natured. addictions:  alcohol,  tobacco,  drugs  &  sex. drug  use: frequent. alcohol  use: frequent.

                                          PERSONALITY. ( PT 1. )

label:  the  cataclysmic. positive  traits:  daring  &  kaleidoscopic. negative  traits:  irascible  &  sybaritic. fears:  large  bodies  of  water. hobbies:  boxing,  card  games,  video  games,  reading,  cooking,  comic  books,  jogging. habits: tbd. quirks:  tbd.

                                                 FAVORITES.

season:  fall. color(s):  black,  red,  green. music:  isn’t  super  picky,  doesn't  care  for  country. movies:  mostly  action,  suspense,  horror  &  comedy. sport(s):  watches  baseball  &  hockey. beverage(s):  anything  but  sparkling  water. food:  fast  food. animal:  dogs.

                                                     FAMILY.

father: tba. mother: tba. sibling(s):  younger sibling, nineteen. children:  n/a. pet(s):  german  sheppard  puppy. family’s  financial  status:  upper  class.

                                                     EXTRAS.

zodiac sign:  scorpio. mbti:  entp-a.  (  the  debater  ) enneagram:  type  eight. (  the  challenger  ) temperament:  choleric. hogwarts  house:  slytherin. moral  alignment:  chaotic neutral. primary  vice:  lust. primary  virtue:  pride. element: fire.

                                                BIOGRAPHY.

born  in  daegu  sk  to  a  lawyer  and  a  police  officer,  jun's  life  was  always  pretty strict.

they  always  made  sure  he  was  living  like  they  wanted  him  to,  cracking  down  and  making  sure  he  was  behaving  &  that  his  grades  were  at  the  top  of  his  class.

little  did  they  know  that  their  son  found  ways  around  having  to  obey  everything  they  said,  sneaking  out  of  his  bedroom  window  to  roam  the  streets  of  daegu  in  the  middle  of  the  night  &  things  like  that.

that's  also  where  he  first  found  his  interest  in  fire,  seeing  people  mess  with  small  bonfires  /  fireworks  all  the  time  caused  him  to  grow  curious.

so  one  night  on  one  of  his  adventures,  he  approached  a  group  of  kids  that  were  probably  only  a  few  years  older  than  him  and  they  allowed  him  into  their  group  &  allowed  him  to  start  messing  with  the  fireworks  himself.

it  was  from  that  moment  on  that  he  started  to  rebel  a  little  bit  more  with  each  day  that  passed,  eventually  sneaking  out  &  staying  gone  the  entire  night  only  to  sneak  back  up  through  his  window,  get  2  hrs  of  sleep  and  then  head  to  school.

parents  never  figured  out  about  it  though,  he  was  good  at  lying  to  them  &  anyone  with  any  sort  of  'authority'  so  he  was  able  to  continue  pleasing  them  &  pretending  to  be  this  pefect  son  all  while  living  the  life  he  actually  wanted  to  live.

the  only  thing  that  came  as  a  shock  to  his  parents  was  him  moving  out  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  getting  his  own  apartment  and  whatnot  so  he'd  stop  having  to  hide  how  he  wanted  to  live  or  have  to  sneak  out  of  his  own  home.

however,  to  them,  they  just  thought  he  wanted  to  become  more  of  an  adult  &  so  they  never  really  questioned  it  or  checked  up  on  him  without  warning.

he  had  just  turned  eighteen  when  he  was  approached  by  the  mastermind  after  getting  into  a  fight  at  a bustling  club,  leaving  the  other  person  laid  out  on  the  ground  while  jun  barely  had  any  injuries  whatsoever.  

the  mastermind  offered  a  job,  keep  people  quiet  or  clean  up  after  the  ones  who  can't  and  you'll  get  paid  shit  tons  of  money...  who  was  jun  to  turn  that  offer  down?

a  few  months  after  that  is  when  his  instagram  persona  started  forming,  posting  his  outfits  on  the  app  started  to  cause  people  to  follow  him  &  ask  for  more...  n  before  he  knew  it,  he  was  getting  agents  messaging  him  offering  to  be  HIS  agent  &  allow  him  to  make  even  more  money  just  by  posting  the  simplest  of  things  on  a  daily  basis.

again,  who  was  he  to  really  turn  down  the  offer?  especially  considering  the  fact  he'd  already  grown  a  taste  for  all  things  expensive.

&  thus,  jun's  double  life  began  once  more,  though  this  time,  both  sides  of  his  life  were  things  he  truly  enjoyed.

                                       PERSONALITY. ( PT 2. )

the  Worst...

short-tempered  as  heck,  will  snap  on  people  for  breathing  in  his  direction  wrong  if  he's  in  one  of  those  moods...

loves  violence... it's  a  problem.  will be  that  asshole  who  starts  bar  fights  just  so  he  can  fight  someone  ksfjghsdf

.... if  you  haven't  figured  it  out,  the  boy  loves  to  play  with  fire.  constantly  burns  stuff,  always  tries  to  take  things  of  other  peoples  to  burn  them.  also  likes  to  ... possibly  set  empty  buildings  on  fire  only  to  watch  them  burn  down.  yike.

can  be  extremely  goofy  &  joking  one  moment  and  then  the  biggest  grumpy  asshole  the  next.  all  really  depends  on  his  mood  at  the  time.

when  he's  in  a  good  mood  though,  he  loves  to  mess  with  people  &  joke  around  or  just  go  explore  the  area.  day  trips  are  his  favorite  thing  in  the  world  even  though  he  won't  admit  to  it.

however,  when  he  isn't.... don't  mess  with  him  bc  he  will probably  try  and  snap  ur  head  off  or  yell  at  you  for  the  dumbest  shit.  probably  figures  out  he's  being  a  dick  a  little  too  late  but  will  still  own  up  to  it  and  apologize  eventually.

a  bit  of  a  wild  card,  honestly.  you  never  know  what  mood  he's  going  to  be  in  or  what's  going  on  in  his  head  at  any  given  moment.

a  heaux,  shock  shock...  but  like  actually  really  bad  abt  it,  constantly  has  some  new  hook  up  or  something  like  that.

this  is  a  work  in  progress  as  well  so  that's  all i've  got  atm

                                                   PLOT IDEAS.

someone  from  his  past  who  knows  that  his  father  is  a  police  officer  &  constantly  gets  on  his  ass  for  all  the  stupid  shit  he  does  bc  they  don't  want  him  getting  caught  let  alone  his  own  father  finding  out.

his  go  to  person  for  all  things  stupid  as  fuck.  getting  high  on  the  roof?  check.  getting  drunk  &  dancing  on  the  bar?  check.  walking  around  seoul  at  4  in  the  morning?  check.

the  fire  &  ice  combination  we  all  want  for  our  muses,  they  fight,  bicker,  try  to  throw  hands  w  each  other  even  but  at  the  end  of  the  day,  they  actually  care  about  one  another.

someone  who's  able  to  see  the  softer  side  of  jun,  either  by  just  being  around  for  his  'down'  days,  or  finding  out  that  a  sleepy  /  just  woke  up  jun  has  a  tendency  to  be  soft  and  a  tiny  bit  needy.

the  jokester  friend  who's  always  pranking  jun  &  jun  tries  to  one  up  them  &  get  his  revenge.

the  LOATHING  plot...  idk  what  it  would  be  for  but  they  just  literally  can't  stand  each  other  &  they  make  sure  it's  known  to  the  world.

someone  who  puts  up  with  his  instagram  persona  and  goes  on  shopping  trips  &  appears  in  the  dumb  videos  he  uploads  to  both  instagram  &  youtube.

speaking of,,,,,  the  'dating'  rumor.  basically  they're  really  close  friends  &  are  seen  by  the  media  together  a  lot  so  people  just  assume  they're  a  thing  &  start  getting  hashtags  about  them  trending  as  well  as  all  the  other  fun  stuff  that  goes  along  with  that.

will  add  more  as  they  come  to  mind  !

[the-villain-vanessa-cortez]

Dr. Flug x Reader: The Club

I don’t really speak Spanish but I’m leaning. Those who don’t know I have southern Native American/ northern Mexican ancestry (along with Eastern European and Asian so I’m literally a mix of everything). But anyways I’m not sure where exactly the show is supposed to take place, I kinda just assume maybe a big city like San Francisco or LA makes sense to me. But sense I know that it is a Latin American show primarily, I headcanon most of the main characters are some sort of Latin. Plus I actually prefer watching it in Spanish. Idk feels more authentic? Also like I said it’s kinda helping me learn Spanish since I can understand it but I’m working on creating sentences. This is a reader insert but you’ll be basically filling in as my character Vanessa. Obviously I haven’t said yet but I am a musical theater major/performer and so I love to do fics surrounding musicals and what not. I’ve been listening to in the heights (fun fact I used to live in NY) and the Latin themes got me inspired. If I could literally find people to do performances with me with characters or something that would be amazing.

SONG: The club

MUSICAL: In the Heights

I don’t write genders now because I realize that anyone should be able to enjoy but I do write for more feminine characters if not asked for specifics. I am actually non-binary myself but I do present feminine (although most times I just exist idk but if I’m getting dressed up I’ll mostly look feminine)

I’m going to include most of the Spanish that is in the song. It’s nothing really big. It kinda just feels inauthentic to not include it. Maybe you can learn some things too.

Wepa= Hey!

Y cada día = and every day

Sí = yes

No mames = no way!

—————————————————————

The city was bursting with excitement as “Latin dance night” was approaching at sundown. Villains and their friends could gather for a night of fun and dancing. The idea was that just because you’re evil doesn’t mean that you have to be lonely. There were other thematic nights but this one was specifically for those south of the hemisphere. The temperature was steadily climbing in the past few weeks and everyone was itching to get out and enjoy the cool night air. Being located in Southern California meant that there were bound to be a lot of people at the party. “Latin Night” happened every other weekend and (y/n) found herself frequenting a lot. There they could dance and have fun with other villains. There was a wide range of people and some not-so-people that would show up just for the sheer fun. (Y/n) felt pride rise in their chest upon the sight of so many beings in one place celebrating their heritage.

(Y/n) managed to convince one awkward doctor to come with her for the night. On top of that, they were even able to convince him to show his regular face after telling him about all the different kinds of villains that would be at the place. He usually didn’t like going anywhere without his protective bag on his head, but (y/n) told him that there was nothing to fear. Dr. Flug examined himself in the mirror feeling shy. He wore dark blue jeans, a flannel over a blue t-shirt, his normal sneakers, and his medium length dark brown curly hair tied at the base of the back of his head. Strands of curls framed his face and he tried to smooth them down. Flug met his dark brown eyes in the mirror and sighed. He felt ridiculous and thought about what (y/n) would say once she saw him. He began tracing one of his scars on his face with a shaky hand. It was true that (y/n) was giving him more and more confidence to go out without covering his face like he normally did, but he feared this would be too much. Although, knowing that there were going to be worse looking people and even some not-really-people at the event made him feel a lot better. He’d seen some really ugly villains in his time and figured that it wouldn’t be that bad.

“Slys! We don’t have all night” there was a knock at his door and he turned around shyly.

‘I guess this is it’ he thought as he answered a quick, “come in.” The door swung open revealing a beautiful (y/n) who was wearing an equally beautiful red knee-length dress and black heels. Their (h/c) hair was done up and they wore a seducing smile. They looked like they could kill a man based solely on good looks alone. Flug felt his entire face burn up in red, almost matching (y/n)’s dress.

“Hey not bad Dr. Slys” (y/n) gave a slight punch on his shoulder and stepped closer to embrace him. This didn’t help his nerves or red face situation.

“T-thanks” he choked out and pat his friend on the shoulder. True they were only friend for now, but that didn’t stop the feeling he had for them take root and blossom in the pit of his heart, no matter how many times he tried to kill it.

“Come on let’s go!! We will have fun I promise you. Whenever you want to leave, just tell me and I’ll take you home.” (Y/n) gave him a reassuring smile and he nodded as they began walking out of the mansion, hand in hand.

“Hey!! (Y/n)!!! The whole club shouted as (y/n) and Dr.Flug stepped in the vicinity.

Flug grasped onto (y/n) even tighter and tried to seem cool. He was, in fact, the very opposite of cool.

“Hey this is kinda nice. I really like what they’ve got going with the lights. So this is the place where you spend your weekends? And did I mention you look really great tonight? Because you do-“

(Y/n) cut him off and patted his chest, “Slys, for me just relax.”

“Relax? Què relax? I’m relaxed!” Flug tried to brush it off.

“Wepa!! (Y/n)!!” Another group of people called out as Flug and (y/n) made their way more into the club. Flug felt a little jealous at all the attention (y/n) was getting and he could tell they were eating it up. He began speaking again, “so I guess you’ve been here before? As you know I don’t go out much in fact I’ve been so busy with work. Y cada día it’s a brand new thing my boss wants. Not to mention I’m not really good at dancing, but maybe you and me could sometime hang out some more..?”

(Y/n) turned back to him and smiled cheerily. They could tell that he was extremely nervous and that’s why he was rambling so much.

“Let’s go get a drink.” They grabbed their friend’s hand and led him to the bar. There they met one of (y/n)’s friends that Flug recognized as Jason. Jason was once a hero like (y/n) who also turned to the dark side. Then he also worked as a ‘villain for hire’ where (y/n) and him became close friends.

“Is that?? Doctor Flug Slys??” Jason slapped the thinner man’s back and pulled him in closer.

“Uh, yeah” flug tried to hide his face in embarrassment. He hadn’t really let Jason see what he looked like under his bag and he could feel the heat rise with in him and his chest tightened.

“Aw man. What you need is a good drink.” Jason slapped Flug on the chest and turned to a grisly looking man on the other side of the bar that separated the workers from the patrons.

“Bartender! I would like four shots of tequila-“

“Oh I don’t drink..” Flug looked away and Jason smiled with his arm still around the doctor.

“Make that five then!” Jason winked and turned back to his friend, “so what brings you to Latin night at club ‘Wicked Merlin’?”

Flug continued looking at the ground and doesn’t realize (y/n) had slipped away a little bit ago.

“Well. (Y/n) decided it would be good for me to go out. And now I’m starting to regret that decision really.” He looks to his side and sees that (y/n) is not next to him anymore.

“Speaking of which, where did they go?” Flug began to get worried. Jason laughed as the five shots came their way.

“Who knows. I’m sure she’s just dancing, knowing her. But anyways you should drink it’ll take away your nerves. If you want to have fun you need to drink.” With that Jason downed his two shots and handed the remaining three to Flug. Flug stared at him for a second before deciding to knock one back and preparing for the sting.

“Alright there you go! As long as you drink, I’ll buy” Jason gave a great big smile. For being a villain, he had a good heart.

“No no you don’t have to do that” Flug said after taking the second shot. He could feel his face flush from the alcohol enter his bloodstream.

“Nonsense! I just copped a bag from my last gig so I got cash to blow. Besides, how many times do you get to go out and have fun? Also, knowing you, you’ll be a cheap date” Jason laughed and Flug found himself unable to say no.

“Fine but this is all I’m having.” He swallowed the last shot and Jason tugged his arm.

“Hey is that (y/n)?” Jason pointed across the room at their red figure talking to someone Flug didn’t recognize.

“Who are they talking to?” Flug tried to inquire.

“Some dude… I don’t know man, I think they're trying to make you jealous.” Both Jason and Flug we’re starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Flug crosses his arms and puffed.

“Jealous, I’m not jealous. I can take all these men, whatever.”

In just that second, the unknown man grabs their hand and pulls them to the dance floor. The two began to dance to the Latin music blaring overhead. It doesn’t take long before the entire dance floor is cleared out until it’s just (y/n) and the unknown man dancing in the center. The music speeds up slightly and the dancing continues. Even though Flug is beyond jealous he can’t help but feeling impressed at how great his friend is at dancing. They never would have seemed like the type who could completely tear it up on the dance floor. For a little bit, Flug felt joy grow within him and he studied their moves intently.

“(Y/n)!! Let me get the next one!!” Other people began to call out wanting to dance with the new star of the show. The way they were sweating and flexing their body on the dance floor made Flug want to join in even more. On top of that the alcohol was really starting to kick in and gave him an extra boost of confidence. He liked to dance secretly in his lab when he knew he was alone. He was Latin after all! He never would admit it, but music was in his soul and he enjoyed the twists and turns music would make in his mind as he listened.

Everybody clapped and cheered as (y/n) and the unknown stranger finished dancing. They caught Flug’s eyes and offered a warm smile and ran over to join him.

“I had no idea that you could dance like that” Flug started sheepishly. Suddenly it felt like all his confidence was gone.

“Well when you have enough practice, you get pretty good. Wanna dance?”

“Oh no I don’t dance.” Flug grabbed his shoulder.

“So you can be a doctor but not learn how to dance?” (Y/n) jeered and elbowed him.

“Sí” Flug stared blankly. He was lying but he didn’t want (y/n) to know.

As everyone was coupled up, (y/n) grabbed his hands anyways and pulled him into them.

“Nope. Don’t believe you. You got perfect dancing hips.” (Y/n) placed their hands on his shoulders and he tentatively slid his clammy hands on their waist.

“Here like this. You go back first then go forward” (y/n) swiveled their hips forward making Flug take a step back. His face grew red again as he realized how close he was to (y/n). They slowly got into the rhythm and continued going back and forth.

“Okay now I’m going to go around you and you’ll stay in place but turn to face me. This is called ‘the rejection.’” Flug gulped in response and nodded. He knew what they were trying to tell him and he followed suit. (Y/n) crossed begins him and he spun to face them. It wasn’t that hard, but appeared to be more complicated than it really was. They continued taking turns doing this and everyone started to notice.

“Oh god they’re starting to watch us.” Flug started to get worried.

“Then let’s give them a show!” (Y/n) smiled devilishly at him and pulled him into her chest once again. Their body was flushed with his and he felt tingles go up his spine. He never felt so alive and scared at the same time. They made their way across the floor and (y/n) really began to take off. To everyone’s surprise Flug was able to keep up with them and (y/n) took notice.

“I knew you could dance lier!!” They smiled as they continued salsaing across the floor. Flug grabbed them by the waist and threw them up so that their legs would wrap around his torso. They stopped for a second to pose with the music and then he grabbed them again so they could continue spinning. The whole crowd was going wild and Flug could feel his stamina start to drain. He spun (y/n) into him and flipped her over his arm and brought his face close to their’s as the music came to an exciting end. The club went wild again as another song began to play. (Y/n) began to laugh and gave Flug a kiss on the cheek. Just then Jason appeared clapping and singing to the music.

“No Mames!! Holy hell you two were fantastic!! Who knew!! Did you two rehearse that because wow” Jason was extremely wasted by this point.

“Some people are just that good.” (Y/n) winked at Flug who just shrugged his shoulders.

“Alright. I’m going to go grab a drink. I’m way too parched.” (Y/n) said before patting their friends on the shoulders and walking over to the bar.

Once (y/n) was out of sight, Jason punched Flug on the arm in a more or less friendly way.

“Some date you got there” he said and kept winking at Flug.

Flug was rubbing the now sore spot on his arm and looked irritated. “Yeah I know.” He stated plainly.

“Well have you told them yet? You know, how you feel?”

“What??” Flug was growing impatient.

“Come on it’s obvious. You like them. We all know in the villain community.”

Before Flug could answer there was some buzzing noises and a flash of light before a complete and utter blackout.

—————————————————————

Those who know the musical knows what happens next. But I’m also not going completely by the musical.