#quote prompt: this might be out of obligation but… I do care about you

[cdroofingma222]

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[renjiokumura]

Poor, Unfortunate Me:

Chapter 3

Summary: What if Ben didn’t fall in love with Mal? Find out the answer in Poor, Unfortunate Me. A story about the lesser known and evil second daughter of Ursula and how she gets the love she has been searching for her whole life.

A/N: I'm doing this off my phone so if the formatting is funky, it's because I'm not on my laptop. Also I didn't add a collage this time, and I might not in the future, because I think y'all understand the look I was going for and have a great imagination for these things.

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (You're Here) / 4 (Coming Soon)

As soon as you got back to your dorm and Evan saw you crying, she asked what was wrong and tried to calm you down. You told her what happened while twisting the truth to protect the others. She just held you and told you everything would be better. To make you feel more relaxed, she broke out some hidden treats and some self spa tools, saying she was going to pamper you.

15 minutes into the mini spa, you already felt 100 times better.

“Thanks Evan. This is the first time I've ever done a spa.” you say with an avocado mask on your face, laying on your bed with Evan right next to you.

With the same avocado mask on her face and 2 cucumber slices on her eyes, Evan says, “I can't believe you’ve never done this before. Not even with your sister?”

You sit up and look at your lap, taking a moment before you answer her question.

“No, she can't stand me, because I'm too soft. Family is not the same on the Isle as it is here. Just cause we're related doesn't mean you have to love or care for each other. You got to look out for yourself.” Your voice is heavy with years of loneliness. When you don't hear anything from Evan but a sniffle, you look to the side to see what's wrong.

Evan, with her adorable self, has tears running down her face full of avocado while she sticks a cucumber in her mouth. She sits up and while chewing the cucumber slice, she says, “That's so sad! I'll be your new sister!” you don't want to laugh, but the scene in front of you makes it hard.

“Why are you laughing? I mean it. I want to be your sister!” She says with the other slice of cucumber in her mouth. It makes you laugh harder, which results in her pouting like a little child.

After a minute you finally calm down enough to talk to her. “I'm sorry. I've never seen something so funny,” she gives you a look, “And sweet. I want to be your sister too. Come here.” you open up your arms for a hug and she takes it.

When you guys pull apart from the hug you both look each other up and down then bust out laughing. During the hug, you guys got avocado all over each other. It was all on both of your clothes. “I trust that you won't freak out when I do this.” Before she can question what you mean, you say a little spell, flick your wrist, and all the avocado is gone.

“OMG, you have magic!?” she excitedly said. You nodded ‘yes’, which resulted in a squeal from her. Her excitement was infectious and made you giddy too.

The rest of the night you guys played around with magic, until you guys fell asleep. But during your good time, the others were making a love potion cookies among other things.

After Lonnie left the kitchen, Mal put the cookies in the oven. In the silence of the kitchen the tension between the group was almost palpable, but Carlos soon broke it.

“Mal, what you said back there to Y/N was very uncalled for. Just because you and her sister have beef doesn't mean you can take it out on her.” Evie and Jay nodded to what Carlos said.

Mal is trying to hold her ground by staring Carlos down, but the guilt is too much. She huffs defeated and looks to her feet. “I know! I know… It’s just we have a mission to complete and if we don't,” she pauses looking up at the others equally frightened faces, then continues, “I don't want to think about if we don't.” The air is heavy with emotions.

The same thoughts all go through their minds in the silence of the room. They all started liking Auradon, but they wouldn’t say it out loud to each other. Here they could do and be whoever and whatever they wanted to be without worry of judgment or consequences. But when they thought about it they don't belong here. They had to remind themselves they were evil and belong to the Isle. Though, in reality, none of that was true.

They had been so lost in their thoughts, that when the timer broke the deafening silence, they all collectively jumped in surprise. They all shared a look before they all walked over to see how the cookies came out.

Mal takes out the cookies and places them on the prep table. “I think these are ready. So do we all know what the plan is for tomorrow?” They all nodded in unison.

After cleaning up, they make their way back to their dorm rooms. Jay and Carlos get to their room first, which leaves Evie and Mal to still get back to their room. When they finally get back, Evie stops Mal before she enters the room.

“You are going to apologize to Y/N, right? Just because we are evil doesn't mean we don't have manners.” Evie can understand where Y/N is coming from and hopefully Mal can too.

“Yeah, Yeah. Only so we can make her our ally again.” Evie knew Mal was actually doing it because Isle kids stick together, but if it helped Mal sleep at night she wasn't going to say anything.

When morning rolled around you felt like something good was going to happen, but it was going to have bad consequences. Letting that thought linger in the back of your mind, you thought about how first period would go after what went down. At least you knew that if Mal came after you again, Evan was coming after her. Yup, reassuring.

Evan was nice enough to walk you to your first period class, since you usually went with the others. When you got there, everyone looked at you, with sorry written all over their faces. Evie put her hand on Mal's shoulder, which prompted Mal to get out of her seat and walk over to you.

When she was finally standing in front of you, Evan stepped forward eyeing up Mal like she wasn't Maleficent’s daughter. “If you hurt my sister,” she points her thumb over her shoulder at you, “I’ll hurt you.” Your surprised by the protective nature of Evan, but let her do her thing.

Mal’s surprised too, but also impressed, so she tells Evan she understands. With that Evan hugs you goodbye and walks to her class. Once Mal has you alone, she says something you'd never expect from her. An apology.

“I want to say sorry about yesterday. What I said was not cool. Can you forgive me?” she asks, looking at you expectantly.

“Water under the bridge. Now let's get to learning.” She smirks at you, and you guys walk to your seats.

During break the group tells you about the love potion plan and you agree to help as much as possible. It hurts you to help destroy any and all chances of getting Ben, but you still feel obligated to help them and something is telling you to do so too. They tell you the plan is going to happen after school at Mal’s locker, so you just wait till then.

When the bell rings ending school, you shoot up out of your seat and run out of class since Mal’s locker is on the other side of school. This causes Evan to follow you, though. You guys always walk from 5th period back to your dorm, so she thought something had to be wrong

By running, you made it just in time. Ben had just taken a bite out of the cookie, when something roughly bumps into you, sending you into Ben’s arms.

Ben is looking down into your eyes and is holding you against his body to keep you from falling.

“Y/N, are you okay?” You nodded too speechless and dazed to verbally answer. The next thing Ben ask you truly knocks you out more than the mystery object that got you the first time.

“But did it hurt?” his slight pause gives you a chance to be confused, then he finishes. “When you fell from heaven?” At that cheesy pick-up line, everyone's jaw dropped, especially yours. You honestly couldn't believe your ears.

“Ben, Are you okay?” You ask ,being able to finally stand on your own legs, but Ben still has his arms wrapped around your thick waist.

“I'm fine, but not as fine as you, sweet thang.” he says with a love struck smile on his face which you promptly covered with your hands so he would stop flirting.

“Jay can you pull him off me, please?” Jay comes to your rescue and gently pries him off of you. Once Jay has him, he asks Ben, “Has your world been worked?”

The answer to Jay's question comes in the form of a song lyric. Looking you in the eyes, Ben sings, “You know you do.” (quoting one of Michael Jackson’s songs). At that you become flustered and turn around, not wanting to drag out your embarrassment.

When you turn around to see what pushed you into Ben, you see Evan.“Evan, what are you doing here?” she opened her mouth to answer, but you interrupted her. “Wait, were you the reason I fell into Ben?” When you said that, she became a little sheepish as she answered.

“Yes,” she whispered, “But I was only running in behind you to see if you were Ok because you left class so suddenly...sorry.” Hearing her explanation only made you smile. You could never be mad at her.

“There's no need to be sorry. You were concerned about me and I appreciate that you care enough to check up on me.” With that said you hugged her. During your talk with Evan, the boys left to get ready for their game.

Once you pull out of your hug, you look towards Mal and Evie and see they both have an urgent look on their faces. “Uh, you want to go to the field and save us some seats in the bleachers?” you ask Evan nervously. She nods ‘yes’ and runs off to the game.

“What was that?!” Mal asked incredulously.

“I’m so sorry guys. It was an accident. I tripped,” you said apologetically, “But you can fix this right?”

“No, there is no time. You’ll just have to become his girlfriend.” She said nonchalantly.

“Wait, what?!” your jaw was practically hitting the floor.

You guess this was the good thing that you felt coming, but unfortunately you knew it was going to end badly.

[intheticklecloset]

A Good Tickling (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

This one is a direct sequel to “Wardrobe Malfunction,” as requested above. It’s also officially the longest fic I’ve ever written for any fandom, clocking in at 3,000+ words, so buckle up! I really had fun delving into this one and exploring Kirishima and Bakugou’s friendship on a bit of a deeper level while still turning it into a tickle fic by the end. I sincerely hope you enjoy! <3

6: “You want me to tickle you that bad?”

25: “Let’s see how long you can go without laughing.”

8: “You can run, but you can’t hide.”

20: “Stop resisting!”

19: “I see that smile. Come on, laugh!”

25: “Let’s see how long you can go without laughing.”

You’ll notice for some of the numbered prompts I didn’t use the exact quote, but a variation thereof. This was to help prevent repetitiveness as well as maintain believable story flow. They’re still in the fic, just perhaps not word for word.

Warning: Slight angst.

~

Kirishima was quiet. Like, really quiet. Too quiet. And Bakugou was extremely aware of it.

The silence had come on gradually, over the course of a couple of weeks. At first it was just small pockets of time during which the redhead seemed to shrink in on himself for no discernable reason, but he’d soon bounce back when someone started talking to him, Bakugou included. But as time went on, those pockets of silence became entire hours, which became days by the time two weeks had gone by.

Then Bakugou noticed something even more disconcerting.

Kiri would only be silent around him.

He’d walk into a situation in which Kiri was his normal self, having a good time with their other mutual friends and classmates, and boom. Instant shutdown. It was impossible to ignore after the second time it happened that Kirishima was going silent because of his presence, and Bakugou was actually getting worried about it.

It all came to a head one night when Bakugou went downstairs for dinner, where Kiri and some others were already starting to eat. As soon as he entered the room Kiri’s face went dark and he stopped speaking, which was already bothersome to the atomic teen before the redhead then stood up, put his practically uneaten dinner in the fridge, and left the room.

That was the moment Bakugou realized he’d done something wrong. Somewhere along the line and without knowing it, he’d upset Kirishima so much that his closest friend couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as him anymore.

No, he thought. I have to fix this. So he turned right back around and followed Kirishima to his dorm room.

“It’s open,” Kiri called when Bakugou knocked, and as soon as the door was open enough for him to see who was visiting, he turned his back and didn’t say anything.

Bakugou felt awkward closing the door behind him as he entered the silent space, but he’d resolved to find out what was going on. He hated this rift that existed between them now. He wanted to close it up. To be close with Kiri again. He missed him, dang it.

For a long while words failed him. How was he supposed to approach this when he didn’t know what was wrong? Finally Bakugou cleared his throat. “Hey. Are you mad at me?”

Kiri’s shoulders slumped. “No.”

Well, that was a relief, at least. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

Bull. Bakugou fought back an angry retort and said in his calmest voice, “You can run from me all you like, Kirishima, but at the end of the day you can’t hide that you’re upset with me about something. It’s written all over your face every time you look at me. So…” He sighed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Kiri still wouldn’t look at him. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to you,” Bakugou shot back, “and I don’t like that you aren’t yourself around me lately. Where’s that loud, obnoxious, spiky-haired idiot I usually hang out with?”

“I don’t know.”

Bakugou’s irritation was rising, but he used every ounce of willpower he had to fight it. He tried to think rationally. When had this all started? Not long after that day in the locker room when he called Kiri’s costume stupid. Was that it? “Is this because of what I said about your hero costume?”

Kirishima tensed, but shook his head. “No.” His voice was quieter now. “It’s not that.”

“Well, you started being really weird around me after that, so what gives?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The redhead got up from his seat at his desk and finally turned to look at him, and the look in his eyes – the upset, lost, desperate look – was like a sucker punch to the stomach to Bakugou. Guilt washed over him, and he still didn’t even know why.

“Yes, it does.” Bakugou felt something inside him soften. He dared to take a step closer. “Please, Kiri, tell me what I did wrong. I want to fix it. Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

Kirishima seemed to have some kind of struggle within himself. He grabbed onto the back of his desk chair and gripped it so hard Bakugou thought it might splinter. Finally he muttered, “It’s just…I’ve tried everything I can think of. Nothing’s working.”

“What isn’t?”

“I’ve tried tickling you,” Kiri continued, his eyes everywhere but the blonde. “I’ve tried outing you to our friends, I’ve tried tickling you in public, teasing you in public, saying things I thought would make you angry enough to retaliate…nothing!” He shoved his chair into his desk so hard it made Bakugou jump. “And then when you finally tickle me and call it revenge, we’re in the middle of class so I can’t even enjoy it because I don’t want to get in trouble. And I try challenging you openly and still nothing!” The redhead was on a roll now that the words were finally coming. “Even Sero has tickled me nearly to death, and he almost never does that kind of thing. Everyone seems to get it. Everyone can tell when I want it. But even when I outright tell you to do your worst, you do nothing!”

Bakugou was stunned.

“Why is it,” Kiri continued, voice rising, “that all of our friends know that I love being tickled and will tickle me when I want it, but my best friend just stands there even when I’m practically begging him to destroy me? I don’t understand!”

This time, the silence was on Bakugou’s end. He had no idea what to say. He’d never seen Kiri so openly upset, and over something that could have so easily been avoided if he’d just pulled his head out of his butt long enough to see how much damage his apathy was doing.

A long minute passed before he was able to speak.

“I…” Bakugou cleared his throat. “I didn’t know…I mean, I knew you liked it, but…I didn’t realize how much…” He frowned. “You want me to tickle you that bad?”

“Ugh!” Kirishima covered his face with his hands and cried, “Yes!”

“I’m…I’m sorry.” Bakugou took another step closer. “Kiri, I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize how much it meant to you. It…it means a lot, doesn’t it?”

“It’s so stupid,” Kiri growled, but Bakugou could tell even before he turned his back again that his friend was on the verge of tears. Another sucker punch to the gut. “It’s so stupid. It’s just tickling. I shouldn’t be so upset over this, right? It’s so dumb of me.”

“Oh, heck no.” No way was Bakugou letting him go down this path with his thoughts. He strode right up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him around. “Do not feel bad about this. This is my fault. This isn’t because you weren’t clear enough. I knew what you were asking for and I just stood there, like you said. Like a complete and total jerk. Do not apologize for my mistakes. Let me do that. Kiri, I’m so sorry.”

Kiri said nothing, but he swallowed thickly, and Bakugou pulled him into a hug before he could think twice about it. He held the redhead close and waited, hoping that his apology would be accepted. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever. Then, finally, Kiri wrapped his arms around him, too, sighing heavily into his shoulder.

“What is it?” Bakugou asked softly, genuinely, trying not to disturb the moment. As much as he hated sentiment, he didn’t want to screw this up any more than he already had. “Why is it so important to you? I want to understand.”

“That’s just it,” Kiri mumbled in reply. “I can’t put my finger on it, exactly. It’s just…it’s so much fun, and it makes me feel good, and when it’s with my friends I know I can feel comfortable and be open about it without judgement, and even when I’m getting absolutely destroyed I know I’m safe and they’ll stop when I really need them to. But until then I can just…laugh until I can’t breathe.” The redhead pulled away from Bakugou, keeping his eyes averted. “I don’t know. It’s just so much fun. And with you, I know you’re good at tickling; I’ve heard Midoriya talk about it, I even experienced it a couple of times. And you’re my best friend, so more than anyone else I want you to tickle me into next year. So when I openly asked you to and all this time has gone by and you’ve had lots of opportunities and you didn’t, I just…” Kiri bit his lip. “I felt like maybe you really didn’t care. You act like it a lot, but this time…this time I wondered if you—”

“I care,” Bakugou said quickly, desperate to bring an end to that train of thought. “I care, Kiri, I’m just a complete jerk.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “God, I really screwed things up. I’m an idiot.”

Kiri offered a weak smile. “It’s okay—”

“No it’s not okay!” Bakugou snapped. “Are you kidding me? Look how upset you are over this! How is any part of this okay? No.” He shook his head. “No. I have to fix this. I want to fix this.” He thought for a moment, then met Kiri’s eyes. “Do you still want me to?”

Kirishima stared at him. “W-What? Now?”

“Or later,” Bakugou said quickly. “If I haven’t ruined everything. But – but yeah, I’ll do it now, if you want.”

Kiri took a step back. “Talk about whiplash.”

“I know I’ve been a jerk, and I know you’re upset, but if you’re okay with it I’d much rather make you laugh right now—”

“Bakugou,” Kiri said, “I want you to tickle me. But only if you want to. Don’t do it just because you feel obligated. Do it because you mean it.”

Bakugou nodded once. “I mean it. I’ll tickle you into oblivion now, and then later I’ll do it again and again and again. I do want to make you laugh, Kiri. Really.” He dared to smirk. “But even more, I kind of want to see how much it will take for you to beg me for mercy.”

Kiri frowned. “It will take a lot. I’m not kidding about that.”

“Then bring it on.” Bakugou tackled Kirishima onto his bed, making the redhead yelp in surprise. He swung a leg over to straddle him and paused, just once. “You sure this is okay right now?”

“For the love of god, Bakugou,” Kiri groaned, “if you don’t make good on your promise right here and now I swear I will end our friendship and then end you!”

“Good enough for me.” Bakugou grinned wickedly, shoving Kiri’s arms above his head. “All right, then. When you really can’t take it anymore, tap out. Until then, I will not stop. Got it?”

“Prove it,” Kiri spat, but his eyes were hopeful.

“Keep those arms up there.” Bakugou growled, releasing his hold and sitting back. “Move them and I’ll make it worse.”

“All bark and no bite?”

“Hah.” Bakugou smirked. “One more thing. I want to make you laugh so hard you forget your own name. But before that, I want to see how long you can go without laughing. Bet you’re not going to be very good at that part.”

Kiri smirked back. “Bring it on already.”

Bakugou did, lightly trailing his fingers from Kiri’s underarms down his ribs and sides to his stomach, watching the redhead twitch a little but – surprisingly – do very well in keeping himself in control. “Hmm,” the blonde mused. “Should have had you take your shirt off. That would make this easier.”

“Want to enjoy the view?” Kiri teased. “I told you I look good in my costume as it is.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Give me a break.”

“The shirt stays on. You made me wait this long. Now I’m going to make you work for it.”

“I don’t think that will be hard, considering I can just do this.” The blonde shoved his hands up under Kiri’s t-shirt and raked his nails down his ribs roughly, making Kiri choke on a startled yelp. “Giving in already?”

“No way!”

“We’ll see.”

Bakugou got to work, starting very lightly and increasing the pressure with every pass, making sure to focus on the ribs when he circled back to them each time, knowing that was Kiri’s worst spot and very likely the place that would break him and make him laugh first. Kirishima kept his arms above his head as instructed and his smile widened more and more, but he did better than Bakugou was expecting at keeping his mirth at bay.

“Dang, you’re stubborn,” the blonde muttered after a few minutes of this. “Stop resisting, already.”

“Y-You’re the o-one who wanted m-me to h-hold out,” Kiri stammered. If nothing else, he sounded close to breaking, and that was satisfying just on its own. “I’m c-c-committed n-now.”

“Well, knock it off. I see that smile, but I want to hear you laugh, spiky hair.” Bakugou decided to be a little mean and press his thumbs into Kiri’s bottom ribs, kneading gently. “Come on. Let it out.”

“Agh, n-no,” Kiri’s voice wobbled as he tried to stay in check, his grin splitting his face. He squirmed a little. “That’s cheating!”

“Oh, is it? Too bad. Playing dirty is kind of my thing when it comes to tickling. Ask Deku.”

“I k-know all about that. He’s t-t-told me how r-ruthless you ahare.”

Bakugou kneaded deeper. “Was that a giggle?”

“Ah! N-No, no!”

“It sounded like a giggle.”

“It w-w-wasn’t!”

Feeling evil, Bakugou kept up his kneading pace and began to tease. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

Kiri whined. “Oh, y-you so don’t p-plahay fair!”

“Now that was a giggle.”

“You s-s-suck so much--!”

Bakugou dug his fingers in deep to Kirishima’s ribcage, and with a shriek of surprise, the redhead finally broke.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU JEHEHEHEHEHEHERK I WAHAHAHAS DOING SO GOHOHOHOHOHOOD!!”

“Too good,” Bakugou corrected over Kiri’s laughter, impressed his friend’s arms were still above his head, albeit flailing now. “I was getting tired of you showing me up from such a helpless position. Forget resisting. It’s time to make you laugh your guts out.”

“YOHOHOHOHOHOHOU SOHOHOHOHON OF A--!!”

Bakugou slapped a hand over his mouth and tickled wildly with his other hand, enjoying the look of sheer panic that came over Kiri’s face. The redhead started to bring his arms down. “Ah-ah-ah! What did I say? Keep them up.” Kiri whined, fisting his hands into his hair while his legs kicked wildly, the sounds of his distress muffled. “Well now, this is satisfying. You look hilarious, all freaked out like that. Didn’t think I’d pull out all the stops, did you?”

Kiri screeched when Bakugou started pinching his bottom ribs.

“I mean, I suppose I could also tie you up if I really wanted to be mean. But that’s your call, and you can’t talk right now, so I’m not going to assume anything.”

Kirishima started to bring his arms down again, then settled for covering his face with them. His laughter was loud and crazy, even behind Bakugou’s palm over his mouth. The blonde smirked down at his friend, marveling at how much he seemed to enjoy this, despite the obvious ticklish distress he was in.

“You’re probably thinking, ‘I thought you said you wanted to hear me laugh? Why are you covering my mouth?’ Right?” Bakugou chuckled. “I do want to hear you laugh. But it’s so much fun to make you desperate first. You’re just dying to let it out now, aren’t you? No more holding back?”

Kirishima managed a split-second glare in the midst of his muffled hysterics before nodding frantically.

“That’s what I thought.” Bakugou finally pulled his hand away and used both hands to rake up and down Kiri’s ribs.

“SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOMEWHEHEHEHERE ELSE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, PLEASE GO SOHOHOHOMEWHERE EHEHEHEHEHELSE!!”

Bakugou laughed. “What’s wrong? Can’t take it here anymore? But I want to hear you laugh, Kirishima.”

“I AHAHAHAHAHAHAM LAHAHAHAHAHAUGHING!!” Kiri screamed, his arms flailing wildly above him. “BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAKUGOU!!”

“Honestly, I’m just trying to find the technique that will make you bring your arms down to stop me,” the blonde said with a shrug. “So I can make it worse.”

Kiri’s laughter was wild already, and they were only a few minutes in. He squealed and shrieked and thrashed and kicked but – somehow – kept his arms above him the entire time. Bakugou was impressed. That had to take serious effort on his part.

Now, how to break that concentration?

He’d tried kneading, pinching, and raking – all obviously effective forms of ticklish torture. But nothing had made Kiri’s fight-or-flight instinct kick in the way he’d hoped it would. What was he missing?

“Oh, I think I know what will drive you nuts.” Bakugou laughed, suddenly leaning down to blow the longest raspberry he could manage on Kirishima’s bottom ribs. Sure enough, not a whole second had gone by before he felt Kiri’s hands grabbing at his hair frantically.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DOHOHOHOHOHON’T DO THAHAHAHAHAHAHAT!!”

“Well, well. I told you to keep your arms up.” Bakugou smirked, grabbing Kiri’s wrists and pinning them to the mattress by his sides. “Now I’ll have to punish you.”

Kiri gasped for breath while he could, his eyes wide and cheeks pink and hair wild, but behind it all, it was obvious to Bakugou that his best friend was having the time of his life. He couldn’t believe he’d made him wait this long. Made him practically beg for something as simple as a good tickling.

“Y-You’re gonna…b-break me,” Kiri stammered between breaths of air, sounding surprised. “I w-won’t be able to…to take it at this rate!”

“That’s the idea, isn’t it? You wanted me to destroy you, right?”

Kiri beamed. “Yeah.”

“Still good to go?”

“Yeah!”

Bakugou took a big breath, then blew another raspberry. Then another, then another, then another. Then he got to work absolutely destroying Kirishima with tickle torture, digging into his underarms and sides and hips and knees and feet, but especially his ribs, until the minutes added up and added up for nearly an hour, and by the time they were done Kirishima was laughing so hard his voice was giving out and tears streamed down his cheeks and he was pounding the mattress as desperately as he could to gain some shred of mercy from the tickle monster that was Katsuki Bakugou.

And when it was all over and Bakugou finally relented, Kirishima kept giggling even without the tickling stimulation, shaking his head in disbelief and gasping for oxygen. “I c-can’t…breheheathe…”

“You asked for it,” Bakugou reminded him, but he couldn’t help but grin at the mess he’d made of his closest friend. “And I promise, the next time you ask for it, I won’t hesitate to do this to you again. And again and again. As many times as you ask for it, I’ll destroy you, Kiri.”

“W-What about…playful tickles…?”

“Those, too.” Bakugou nodded. “I swear I’ll stop being an idiot about this. You ask, I’ll answer. I promise. I won’t ever let you give me the silent treatment again. I’ll be a best friend worthy of the title.” He wanted to cringe at himself for saying it, but it was all true, and besides that, Kirishima’s response was more than worth it.

“You were already a great best friend,” the redhead replied tiredly, lifting his head off the pillow to grin at him. “This just makes you that much better. Thank you, Katsuki. Seriously.”

Bakugou swallowed, feeling a little awkward due to all the sentiment in the room. He nudged Kiri’s leg. “Thanks for putting up with me. I don’t deserve it.”

“Sure you do. You’re a little rough around the edges but you’re a cool dude, King Explosion Murder.”

Bakugou’s lips twitched. “I told you if you called me that again there would be consequences.”

“Yeah?” Kiri chuckled. He leveled a clear, challenging smirk at the blonde. “Prove it.”

[cancerjupiter]

Venus & Mars: Earth signs

With Venus and Mars in Earth, bringing an innate attunement to the rhythms of nature, it should come as no surprise that time is a major consideration and determining factor in their relationships… time and patience. They take time to express their feelings and desires; sometimes they take what seems to others to be an interminable amount of time! Strong as the physical instincts are in the Earth element, there is a tremendous caution, self-protectiveness, and practicality that dominates the instincts, overruling the need for romance and excitement. Self-control is a theme you find throughout all the activities and motivations of all three Earth signs. And, in fact, not just self-control, but also a desire to control everything and everyone else. The Earth signs seem to imagine that through control they can achieve security.

However, once those with this Earth emphasis finally say yes to someone and commit themselves to a relationship, they do so very deeply and with a considerable steadiness of commitment. You then know they are there with you, not spaced out in their heads or anxiously awaiting a more exciting moment. They really try to make the relationship work.

One problem that arises in relating to those with a dominant Earth element is that you never quite know if they are involved with you because they really care about you personally or because they have some practical reason for being with you. For instance, are they just buying security? Are you convenient for them as an ally to their goals ?

Those with Mars or Venus in the Earth signs are dutiful and efficient, although the laziness of Taurus sometimes takes precedence over duty and efficiency. They also are proud of sexual side: they often work on technique, trying to become accomplished at it, and attempt to stay in control even of passion. Mars and Venus in Earth signs are very basic and down-to-earth. Even Virgo is quite a sensual sign. It’s not sexual, but it is sensual and physically oriented. So many people with strong Virgo get into the healing arts, nutritionally, nursing, physical therapy, and massages (they’re the best without even trying lol). The Earth signs want to take care of human needs and instincts efficiently and impersonally. Sex, love, and intimate relationships are tied in with basic needs and duties. This approach leads to their being rather mechanical (and sometimes downright boring). Spontaneity and imagination are not their greatest strengths.

Those with Venus in Earth signs seek shelter, structure, and emotional security in relationships, and this can lead to excessive traditionalism, conservative attitudes, and rigidity, which can lead to deep loneliness. Instead of producing a solid, grounded emotional base, the Earth element sometimes takes over and makes the person totally inflexible. The physical presence of their beloved is felt to show that everything in the relationship is OK. The earthy person tends to believe in forms as an ultimate reality, even if they are false, hypocritical, or deceptive. If you want to make an impression on a partner who has a lot of Earth emphasis, whether Venus, Mars, Sun, or Moon, you may well find that what really gets through to him or her and elicits a prompt reaction is your physically leaving for a while. That is the only thing that's real to many of them and accomplishes much more than months of discussion trying to convince them that a problem exists.

Here is a quote from a woman with Mars in Taurus, taken from an interview: in explaining how she likes to be treated she said, “Be substantial with me. Be physical with me. Want my body, not just me.” This is a sharp contrast to Mars or Venus in Air, for example. The Air person would say, “Get to know me personally, as about what I think.… my body can come later.” Physicality, form, appearance, and dress are all extremely important to the earthy people. Exterior appearances matter a great deal, especially when Venus is in Earth.

Because of their conservatism in relationships, those with Earth emphasis (especially those with Venus in Earth) deny themselves many possibilities in human relationships. They are so traditional and people have to fit their categories so specifically that many possibilities of new experience with people are dismissed as impractical. This is of course true for many people, not just those with Venus in Earth; but I feel it is more common and restrictive for those of the Earth element. The Earth types are quite formal, and it is beyond their imagination that people with different attunements might have less rigid approaches to life and relationships. Nor can they imagine that there would be much satisfaction from any kind of relationship other than a somewhat traditional lifestyle.

Venus in Earth notes: Affection and appreciation are expressed tangibly, dependably, and physically. The person feels love and closeness with another through commitment and building a life together, and through sensual pleasure and sharing responsibilities.

Mars in Earth notes: The individual asserts self through concrete achievement requiring patience and persistence. The method of operation is careful, cautious, and often focused on efficiency. Physical energy is stimulated by hard work, self-discipline, challenge, and satisfaction at having done one’s duty or obligations well.

[ontowanderlust]

Jealously+ victor please

Jealousy., n.

“Did you know there are six types of jealousy?”

Victor looked up from his tablet, sparing a glance on the woman across his table whose eyes were sparkling with interest as she looked at him expectantly.

He let out a sigh as fatigue crept up on him. “And should I care about that, why?” he asked, deciding he’s in need of a break anyway as he placed his glasses down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he beckoned her to come closer, her obliging his silent request as she pulled his swivel chair slightly to make up space before sitting on his lap, showing him the article she was reading earlier. “Just…what exactly are you up to now, dummy?”

“Ta-daaa,” she squealed softly when he pulled her closer to him so he could rest his chin over her shoulder so he could see the article she wanted him to see. “See, there are six types!”

He skimmed over the article, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at the cheesy titles and tacky words used by the writer. “I’m assuming you have an ulterior motive in showing me this…article.”

“Don’t you think these types describe you well?”

…what?

He gave her a pointed look, holding her at arms length. He had half a mind to wipe that ear-splitting grin off her face but decided against it. “Have you lost your mind?” he asked, only for her to lightly smack his forearm. “I don’t know what fantasies you’re concocting in that head of yours but just so we’re clear here, I don’t get jealous.”

She let out a small snort, rolling her eyes at him. “Didn’t you ignore Goldman for a week because you said and I quote, ‘he’s being too chummy with the dummy’? And this is back when we’re trying to give you a good surprise party last year.”

He shot her a sarcastic smile. “It’s amazing that you could recall an incident about me a year ago when you couldn’t even remember the deadline for your report this week.” he said, making her smile sheepishly at him, poking his cheek in response.

“So you were jealous?” she asked him with that teasing smile of hers

“I don’t get jealous,” he repeated in response, finally rolling his eyes at her antics. “I can’t be jealous, and I’ve never been jealous.”

“Oh?”

“…just when it comes to you.”

Hello nonny! 

Okay so I have to admit, I’ve got three drafts for this one since you didn’t specify which genre I should go with and if you’re curious about the other two, one is about leading into a fight because of Victor’s silent treatment and the other one is going to a comedic route about the six types of jealousy mentioned above but it’s gonna be so long that I decided to just go with this one. 

And I know, I kinda missed the opportunity with this word cause I know lots of you wanted me to delve deeper into Victor’s jealous streak but since there are so many headcanons and fics written about that, I decided to really just go with my gut here. 

Anyway, I still hope you like this one. 

Send me some prompts! and I might be able to do a little masterlist with this prompt game. esp if I’ve written for all of the guys and heeeey i might even open up some characters like cyril, minor and- 

MLQC Dictionary Prompts

[five-rivers]

Interview With a Ghost, Part 2

Part one is here.  The Dannymay prompt used is ‘Bones.’

.

.

.

"Well," said Captain Jones, over the intercom, "that answers that question."

"Not really," said Patterson. "It doesn't really explain all the ancient China stuff. We didn't even ask him about that."

"I think it does, actually," said Collins, tapping his fingers on the table. "If he didn't want people to know that he'd died and was continuing to live his human life, what better way to throw them off the trail than by mimicking a old legend like that?"

"But the Fentons said it wasn't well known," said Patterson. "Who would have known about it when the Fentons first showed up?"

"It certainly narrows down the list of potential..." Collins groaned. "What do we even call this? Victims? Suspects? Possibly dead people?"

"Before you two get too tied up in semantics," said the captain, voice coming through the intercom again. "We have some things to discuss. My office."

.

Collins and Patterson weren't the only ones assembling in the captain's office. Captain Jones had called Molly, the medical examiner, in as well. She sat on the chair in front of his desk, a stack of papers in her lap.

Jones shut the door behind him and locked it. "Alright," he said, rubbing his face and sinking into his chair. "So, before you called me in to watch that interview, I was talking to Molly. She told me some interesting things about Phantom's body. I assume you've already told these two what you've learned."

"I've gotten a little more, since then, actually," said Molly.

"Go ahead, then," said Jones.

"Well, at this point we're pretty sure that the cause of death is electrocution... Or we would be, if it wasn't for the whole 'only half a body' thing he has going on." Molly sighed. "He has electrical burns on his bones. They're black in spots."

"Ouch," said Patterson. "What a way to go."

"Yeah. Let's not bring it up to him, okay?"

"It might be a way to figure out it's him, though, make him break cover."

Captain Jones cleared his throat. Collins and Patterson turned to look at him, expectant.

"That brings us to the bones of this matter, so to speak," said Jones.

Collins suppressed a twitch of his lips. The captain liked puns, but admitting that one found them humorous could be hazardous. Mainly because it would result in more puns.

"What is that, sir?" he asked.

"Do we want to expose Phantom? Assuming that he is masquerading as a living person, something I'm not entirely convinced of. Especially considering your mention of legends and 'ancient China stuff.'" The captain circled the words with air quotes. "Care to explain?"

"The Fentons believe that Phantom is the same ghost as one that shows up in a bunch of legends around the world," said Collins. "We were going to look into them, next, but Phantom showed up."

"So, in other words, there's some evidence that he's, what, hundreds of years old?"

"I suppose," said Collins.

"Which would mean that's someone else's body. Because there's no way it's that old, right, Molly?"

"Not unless all that ectoplasm in it preserved it, somehow," said Molly. "I wouldn't entirely discount that, by the way. I'm not an ectologist."

"And everyone who is, is a suspect because of the ectoplasm and the body's age," put in Patterson.

Captain Jones cleared his throat. "As long as that's not the case," he said, "that means that, if Phantom is playing at being alive, he's doing it with someone else's life."

There was a pause, the words heavy on the air.

"You don't think he actually killed anyone, do you, sir?" asked Patterson.

"No," said the captain. "I don't. But it's something we have to consider, because if it is the case, then we have an obligation to reveal him. But if it isn't... What do you think will happen if we reveal Phantom and he leaves? If he's just continuing his- his 'life,'" again his hands came up to make quotes, "and he's not hurting anyone, there's no reason to reveal him, and many reasons not to, including the safety of the city."

"There is a reason to reveal him, even then," said Patterson. "If he's lying about it being an accident. If he was murdered. Or if the accident wasn't as out there as he wants us to think it is. I mean, he's a teenager. They don't just drop dead for no reason, and, well, Dave's wife had a point."

"You mean with her comment about abuse," said Captain Jones.

"Yeah," said Patterson.

"If it helps," said Molly, "there aren't any other detectable signs of abuse on his body."

"There's another issue," said Collins.

"Yes?" said the captain.

"What if Phantom decides to object to our line of questioning more physically?"

"You mean, if he attacks us?" asked Patterson.

Collins shrugged. "He is a ghost. And a kid. And we're putting a lot of pressure on him. I don't think any of that is conducive to rational decision making."

"I guess we can't argue that he isn't violent," said Patterson, making a face. "But what can we do? We can't definitively say what's going on."

Captain Jones glared at his desk as if it had offended him. Maybe it had. It was a horrible mess.

"We need to keep investigating," said the captain. "But I want you, all three of you, to be circumspect. We need a different explanation for why you're asking questions."

"Why?" asked Patterson. "Phantom already knows."

"Because of his 'enemies.'" Air quotes again. "We don't know who they are, or the real reason he's so anxious to keep everything quiet. We don't even know if he's talking about humans or ghosts. And," said Captain Jones, after a significant pause, "I don't want the Guys in White to get wind of this at all. They can have that corpse over mine, you got it?"

.

To Collins' great relief, the captain had chosen to deal with the Cult Division (aka Cameron Daily and his computer) himself, which left him and Patterson free to strategize on other fronts. Specifically, to whittle down which children they should interview, how they should be interviewed, and whether or not it was possible that any of them were Phantom.

"If he can shapeshift, then he can shapeshift," grumbled Collins, massaging his temples. It was far too early for this, and he'd been here until midnight yesterday, getting paperwork together and sending for class lists from the school. They'd had to explain why they wanted them. "His body type could be anything." He reached for his coffee. He was almost out.

"But," said Patterson, "we have his body. The body types match."

"He could have changed over two years," said Collins. "Teenagers usually do. He could have, I don't know, simulated a growth spurt in his human disguise, or whatever."

"Still, he couldn't have changed that much, not while escaping suspicion," argued Patterson.

Collins grunted. "Maybe," he agreed.

"And he's got to go to Casper High, he gets to ghost attacks there too fast for him to go to school anywhere else."

"Mhn," said Collins. "Sure, I guess."

"Has to be someone who's been there for two years, because of when everything started. So it can't be and of the freshmen or sophomores. Has to be someone who's an incoming junior or senior."

"Or someone who graduated last spring," said Collins.

"You're right," said Patterson. She tugged on the end of her braid. "That might complicate some things. Still. I think these are the most likely candidates." She pushed a list of circled names and pictures across their shared desk. "We can interview them today."

Collins glared at it, the way he glared at everything that wasn't coffee at this time of day. "Patterson, I thought we were doing interviews with kids to find the conspiracy theory kid."

"Well, we can do that, too, and ask around to see if anyone's been acting ghostly."

"Fine," said Collins. He squinted. "'Wesley Weston?' Dear god, who names their child that?"

"I don't know. It's better than some celebrity baby names that I've heard of," said Patterson, shrugging.

Collins put the list down and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "What was the theory again, anyway?" he asked. "That Phantom was the Fenton kid?"

"Daniel. Yeah. I've got him circled, here." Patterson tapped on the list.

"Do you think there's any merit to that?" asked Collins. "The Fentons are ghost hunters. You'd think they'd either notice and stop hunting him, or, well, you know."

"It would explain the ectoplasm, though. And maybe the electrical burns. They're inventors, too, and that thing on their roof has to have some kind of fancy wiring."

"That would be-" Collins wracked his brain for a suitable adjective and came up empty. He shook his head. "I don't think we can make that conclusion from a forum post you barely remember, Patterson. It sounds good, but-" He shook his head again.

"But it is pretty unbelievable. I still think we should ask him."

"Just like that?"

"Why not? You saw how he reacted to your question yesterday. His poker face needs work."

Collins' desk phone rang. He picked it up. "Detective Collins speaking," he said.

"Hey, this is Molly."

"Yeah? You have something new for us?"

"The body is gone."

"What?"

"Phantom's body. It's gone. I think there's been a break in."

.

.

.

I tentatively plan to continue this for day 25: Break.  

[bonniebelleklyde]

Time and Distance, Chapter 1

Note: Ooookay, so this little angst fest has evolved into a chaptered fic! Endless thanks to @joylessnightsky for the prompt that got me started down this road (the quote you suggested doesn’t appear in this chapter, but it’s coming!). Hope you enjoy this first installment!

Word Count: 1520

Pairing(s): Loceit (romantic); Logince (familial/parental), Roceit (familial/parental)

Warnings: Mild cursing, light angst (but be warned that it will escalate in future chapters), signs of depression

Summary: Twenty years after graduating college and watching the love of his life walk out of his for what he thought was forever, Janus not-so-accidentally runs into him again. Even with so much time and distance between them, he struggles to fight back feelings, old and new, as he and his old friend become reacquainted. That precocious child of Logan’s does nothing to help matters.

Janus didn’t know what the hell he was doing here. He hadn’t kept in contact with a single soul from his college days, and he had not attended any of these stupid alumni events in twenty years. He had precious few fond memories of his time here, so it was not like he’d come to reminisce about the good old days. And there was nothing about his current life he was particularly proud to show off either. He worked like a dog at a job he didn’t want, and one that paid him significantly less than he was worth. He lived in a depressing little apartment in a depressing little neighborhood. He had no family to speak of, and all of his friends had long since moved far enough away that he had lost touch with most of them. Even Remus only ever called him on holidays out of some sort of pity-driven obligation. Janus had become what all of the people here who once knew him had no doubt expected him to be-- a lonely, bitter man.

Oh, who was he kidding? Janus knew exactly why he had come. When he’d received the Facebook invitation, he’d rolled his eyes and idly visited the event page. He was about close his laptop and get on with his miserable life when his eyes froze on one of the names that appeared as having accepted the invite.

Logan Keller.

If Janus was being honest with himself-- which he almost never was-- he would have to admit that he looked for that name every time he got one of these invitations. Which was ridiculous. Janus had never dated Logan; they’d never been lovers. Even the term “friend” was probably too generous a term for what they had been. Logan was more a friend of Janus’s old roommate than of Janus himself.

But Logan Keller had captured every inch of Janus’s attention from the moment that Virgil had introduced them. He was impossibly beautiful, with his piercing eyes, his sharp grin and the single dimple one could only see when he smiled wide enough. And lord, was it a triumphant feeling on any occasion when Janus managed to make him smile wide enough. Moreover, Logan was perhaps the most brilliant mind that Janus had ever encountered, his highly acclaimed professors included. Any topic that Janus had ever wanted to discuss, Logan had always been readily equipped with a string of seemingly endless facts, figures, analyses and opinions that he was more than ready to fiercely defend. These “discussions” more often than not turned into heated debates, but Janus liked it better that way. Logan was a rare worthy opponent, and going toe to toe with him was exhilarating.

Even years after they had last spoken, Janus found himself remembering things, small and large, about Logan at random. He drank the strongest coffee known to man completely black, and the scent of it followed him wherever he went, no matter the time of day. He had an intense fascination with Sherlock Holmes stories and a well-worn copy of The Hounds of Baskerville was with him wherever he went. He hated pretzels. He loved the stars. He held Janus’s hand in silent solidarity while Janus tried and failed to hold himself together at his mother’s funeral.

Janus had been desperately in love with Logan Keller the entire time he knew him and well afterward. And Logan had been in love with Virgil Sykes. He never said as much, and the two had never officially been an item as far as Janus was aware, but he knew it to be true all the same. The two were inseparable, and Janus had never seen a bond like that. To this day, they were always showing up in photos together all over social media. They were probably married now-- Janus had never had the stomach to check.

Still. It had been a long time. There had been other men. None that made a particularly lasting impression, but they’d…been. It wasn’t as if he had been pining after Logan for the past twenty years. Even Janus wasn’t quite that pathetic. Perhaps if he saw Logan now, he would find that all of those old feelings were long gone. Perhaps he’d look at Logan and wonder how he ever could have spent so many of his thoughts on someone so unremarkable. Perhaps he’d feel nothing at all.

God, if only.

Janus arrived late at the campus pub they were all supposed be gathering at, and he supposed that he shouldn’t have been surprised that his eyes found Logan immediately. He felt like he was twenty-two again, like he was looking at the only man he had ever loved for the last time before they went their separate ways forever.

…

“So. Boston.”

Janus wished he could come up with something better to say. Perhaps something about Boston, something so disparaging that the thought of picking up and moving approximately 2,600 miles away from here—away from him—would seem unbearable. Nothing came to mind. Nothing but a desperate chorus of ‘not yet; we haven’t had enough time. I never told you-’

“Yes, well,” the uncertainty in Logan’s voice was confusing, and Janus didn’t dare let it give him any amount of false hope, “I haven’t decided on it yet. I’ve been accepted elsewhere, you know.”

“Oh, please. Like you’re going to turn down Harvard Med. You’ve talked about nothing else for the past four years. Why wouldn’t you go?”

It took every ounce of will power Janus had not to read into the hesitance in Logan’s face, maybe even a touch of disappointment. It didn’t matter. Not when Logan was going to leave.

“I…I can’t seem to come up with any practical reason not to.”

Janus told himself there was nothing noteworthy in the way in which Logan emphasized the word ‘practical.’ He was being a ridiculous, pathetic, lovesick fool, and like hell was he about to drag Logan down because of it.

“Well then, there you have it, right? Congratulations.”

The word ‘congratulations’ had never sounded so much like defeat. Even if Logan had returned his ridiculous feelings—which he didn’t, Janus never would have asked him to give up something like this for his sake. Not even he was that selfish.

“I…” Logan faltered and sighed instead of finishing whatever it was he’d meant to say. “Thank you,” he said instead in a small voice that barely rose above a whisper.

Janus wanted to say something to make this feel like less of an end. After all, this was the twenty-first century. They had cell phones and laptops with cameras. They had social media, and when all else failed they had good old-fashioned handwritten letters. He might have enjoyed writing letters to Logan. It might have worked, kept their something-like-a-friendship intact at the very least. This didn’t have to be goodbye.

But Janus didn’t say any of those things. He nodded, muttered some thinly veiled excuse to get away and retreated. He was a coward. He paid for it for the next twenty years.

…

Janus needed a drink. No, he needed to leave. This was a mistake, he thought to himself, and he turned on his heels and headed straight back out the door.

“Janus!”

He stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Logan running up behind him, but he did so anyway.

“You’re leaving? Didn’t you just get here?” Logan continued, appearing slightly out of breath, and Janus fervently hoped that he wasn’t blushing upon having been caught out.

“I shouldn’t have come at all,” he answered honestly—too honestly—without thinking. He rushed to recover. “These kinds of…events…well, they’ve never really been for me.”

That seemed good enough for Logan, who nodded in response.

“No, they haven’t. Come to think of it, they haven’t exactly been for me either.”

“Yes, I must say, I’m surprised to see you at one of these things,” Janus lied through his teeth. Though, to be fair, Janus had been surprised to see that Logan had accepted the Facebook invitation.

Logan shrugged. “Likewise.”

There was a painfully awkward silence, and Janus for the life of him could not think of a single thing to say that wouldn’t make him sound like an insane person, a stalker or a complete asshole. He was about to make a pathetic excuse and flee like he always did, like the coward he was, when Logan cleared his throat.

“In fact, I’ve rather had my fill of this event. I was just thinking about going off to find some decent food when I saw you. You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t care to join me, would you? It’s…well, it’s been a long time.”

Something in Logan’s expression made it physically impossible to refuse him—Janus had almost forgotten that strange power the other man had over him, the power that apparently was not diminished by twenty years and over two thousand miles. Fresh out of excuses, Janus nodded and offered Logan a rare smile.

“That it has. Why not? I’m starving.”

[rethesun]

Idk it's my first and probably last tumblr post, "reading into things 2.0?"

Click this link if you would like to share the original post that prompted this. Please go like it too! I read this link yesterday, and it clarified things I thought I understood well enough already. You'll need to read the source first for my commentary to make sense. Thank you for reading.

Question: Did harry ever say that he was unlabelled?

@genuineconspiracy answered:

As far as I know, the word "unlabelled...." 

Harry's quote from GQ in 2013: "Bisexual? Me? I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I'm not." 

Now fast forward to a 2014 One Direction interview when Harry casually made a few pointed comments. In a separate interview on the same day, Niall scoffed at the suggestion that his next date could be a man, Harry bumped him on the knee and quipped: "Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it."

"The "unlabelled" thing comes from the time...why queer artists should be asked to subject themselves to that treatment."

1. I do not speak for everyone in the LGBTQ+ community: This section discusses why I'm not pressuring myself to label my sexuality for now/maybe forever or decide to come out as unlabeled. Whether with any intention or not, Harry has softened barriers for some things to feel less taboo/daunting. Most of us do not want to subject ourselves to different treatment, especially if it's negative. Not all of us have the privilege to do so either.

2. I agree it is not justifiable, and he's right to question them. Being open to everyone isn't easy. Now imagine yourself no less human than right now, but add millions of eyes on you. It's insensitive to assume about someone when they could be doing their best/what is comfortable—please let's stop invalidating what we don't understand.

"the line "It's not a case of: I'm not telling you cos I don't want to tell you."....his first opening band, the queer girl group MUNA...it's that he can't talk about it." 

Maybe. I agree; the quotes from the opening band MUNA are telling. There is so much that is telling. Check this out? Harry said he shows how he feels about many things with his actions, more than he verbalizes. The other side of this is Harry has also said he likes that there is a sense of mystery about his life now, and he keeps as much as he can/wants(?) private. I don't blame him whether that's the sole reason or not; it's valid.

"The reporters asking...know that's a possibility for him...by setting up barriers for queer people to clear - like a formal coming out." 

I entirely agree.

"I believe the last comment Harry gave about his sexuality in the Guardian interview makes it pretty clear what he meant: 

Harry: You respect that someone's gonna ask. And you hope that they respect they might not get an answer. "

"He's telling us that he's not commenting on his identity...He doesn't seem to care what other people think."

He really doesn’t. I don’t perceive Harry as insulted by any genders or sexualities. He’s unbothered comfortable and accepting and I think it would be great if more people felt that way. Some people still live through a prejudice lens and use different labels as insults when they shouldn’t be at all. 

"We all know that no one except Harry knows the reality, so we're all just doing the best with what we do know."

As far as labeling goes, I understand where others are coming from, and at the same time still implore we respect what is shared and what we currently know. I'm cis, so I'm not the most equipped to address this. Generally, no one should change pronouns of someone unless said person puts out a message for everyone or directly tells you. To clarify, even though other pronouns are not disrespectful by themselves, assuming Harry would want us to change his, is. So we should all keep using he/him unless told otherwise. The same is to be said about sexuality. However, words like gay queer and no known label are always acceptable because those are umbrella terms for the lgbtq+ community.

My conclusion on the above and what I learned: I also respect that people have different opinions on things in this fandom, and we won't all arrive to the same conclusions, and that's okay. It is best not to assume things if we do not fully know, and finally, if you do respect people enough to ask them, be prepared not to receive an answer or the one you prefer to hear.

More: Queer people are under no obligation to announce or owe the world an explanation and are still just as valid if they don't make their identities loud. It does not sit right with me to speak for people, so I do not think it is disrespectful to understand the topic more. Now I know how to explain better if I am ever defending him or myself honestly. (separate circumstances)

What Harry does not share or does share is his right. Someone's mental/physical health and happiness should matter more than what we may think is true. I am grateful for the things Harry has done, inspiring the world and making it better. I believe sexuality and gender are fluid, and so as I would for anyone, I support Harry without boxing him in, and that extends to career or personal things—unless he chooses to. 

Off-topic, but here is a vague message as an extended ending to this post because I wrote it back in June 2021 when Harry was acting for the film My Policeman: As of late, it hurts more than usual that Harry is constantly being suffocated by crowds of people who want something from him, mainly because I know that he'd give them everything if he could. We can do better, can't we? So let's work on understanding one another. Practice extending more kindness and respect, whether it's family, friends, a colleague, social media anon, stranger/celebrity. We can all agree on one thing: Harry deserves the best this world has and to be treated as well as he treats all of us.

[janiedean]

PLEASE tell me about sam >> the world and the rock band au.

OKAY SO:

 sam >>> the world was... originally a thing I wrote for an exchange which then I scrapped bc it got too long and I never finished it, but basically the concept was jon gets robb’s will before he’s elected LC and he accepts being kitn except he goes to sam like PLEASE SAM BE MY HAND OR I CAN’T DO THIS, and then sam was going to proceed on solving Each Single Problem Jon Could Have starting from being friends with theon to finding sansa in the vale to finding arya and sandor to basically really solving everything and it was gonna be jon/sam but eeeeh I quit when sandor showed up bc I lost track of the plot T_T HOWEVER, I WOULD LIKE TO FIND AND QUOTE YOU A BIT WHERE BASICALLY SAM DRAGGED THEON WITH HIM TO THE VALE BC HE WAS SURE THEY’D KILL HIM OTHERWISE WHERE THEON RECOGNIZED SANSA AND TOLD SAM IT WAS HER WHICH IS2G WHEN DND HAD THE SAME THING HAPPEN WITH POD AND BRIENNE IN S5 I SCREAMED BECAUSE I WROTE THIS SHIT IN 2013 OR 2014 AND I SAID WHAT I SAID

“Go, go,” Baelish says, and he looks pale as a sheet as well. At least he didn’t have anything witty to say, Sam thinks before grabbing Theon’s arm and leading him outside the room.

“Stop,” Theon tells him a moment later. “I don’t – I just need some air. I don’t think – I won’t.”

“All right,” Sam agrees before leading him towards a half-open window in the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” he says as Theon takes deep, heavy breaths.

“For what?”

“I didn’t even – how did you know?”

“Don’t you think that Ramsay Bolton would have spared me the details?” Theon whispers. “I threw up. Then. And he – he also threw at me handfuls of red hair covered in blood. I told you I could play along.”

Sam thinks that he’s going to be sick.

“But – I need you to listen to me,” Theon whispers then, his voice still shaking, as if he’s forcing himself to say what he’s about to say.

“What?”

“The Lord Protector’s daughter.”

“Yes, what about her?”

“That’s no bastard. She’s Sansa Stark.”

For a moment, Sam is sure he’s heard wrong.

“She’s who?”

“Sansa. She dyed her hair and she’s older than – well, the last time I saw her, but I lived at Winterfell for nine years. Do you think I wouldn’t recognize her?”

And it does make sense. Sansa disappeared from King’s Landing when Baelish went to the Vale, didn’t she? Sam is pretty sure of that.

“And – you saw her when I was telling that story. She looked sick. As much as I felt.”

Oh gods be good. He’s right. Sam wonders how a simple mission suddenly turned out complicated – and if Theon hadn’t been there he wouldn’t have even known, would he?

He thinks about his options.

And then he hopes that he still has some courage left and that he hadn’t exhausted it when he killed an Other.

“All right,” he whispers. “I have no idea of why she’s here, but if she wants to come with… do you think you have it in yourself to go down the mountain twice in one day?”

Theon goes pale all over again. Sam had noticed that he could barely keep his eyes open the first time.

“What’s the plan?” he asks.

“I’m asking her. If it’s true, and if she’s here against her will… well, I already know I’m not getting Baelish’s men. And I’m sure that if I came back with his sister Jon – I mean –”

“You don’t need to call him His Grace,” Theon says, and he sounds almost amused. Barely. As much as someone like him can sound amused. “I couldn’t call Robb like that either.”

“Fine. Jon would like that better than an army, I think. So, do you think you can do it?”

Theon shakes his head again and then looks up at him. “I don’t think that I’d ever want to do it again, but just the fact that you asked first makes me think that I can try it.”

Well then, Sam thinks, that’s settled.

like excuse me but what the fuck

rock band au: okay so I had written this rock band au for jonc/brynden for that last prompt meme I took which I should finish one of these days but like then I was doing this chalenge and I ended up writing a sequel for it where they’re touring with theon who’s like the opening solo act for their band and him and jaime argue in the changing room also theon is with robb who’s the long suffering agent and theon wants jaime to hit on brienne who’s like going to all the concerts and it’s actually finished but I really need to revise it and see if I can put it together with the other one, at the end of it theon and robb had a moment™ backstage while jaime and brienne got together post-concert but here have a snipped or more:

“You know that girl that always is in first row, Lannister?”

“I do, Greyjoy. I very well damn do, and is there a reason you’re gloating at me now?”

“Just saying,” Theon says, and Jaime thinks, don’t finish that sentence, don’t finish that sentence, don't finish that sentence, “that while the time for groupies is over, I mean, supposedly so, considering that you invite her backstage every other moment and that she’s been at each single show of this tour, maybe you could invite her.”

“Can it,” Jaime groans, “no way. I’m not —”

“And why not? Come on, I’ve opened for your band for the entire last month, we drove through half of this bloody fucking country and I know for sure that you’re the only person in it that’s not getting any, and seeing your pretty face, it’s honestly baffling.”

“And since when do you care about how much I’m getting? Are you volunteering?”

Theon laughs, dark hair falling all over his shoulders as he fixes his leather trousers in front of their shared changing room — yes, this venue is so shitty that they have to share rooms in between bands, and fine, Theon’s technically a solo act but he does have a band, and he hopes the others are not being too cramped because their room is so small they can’t even change at the same time. He nods, pleased with his hair, definitely, and then goes to grab a black shirt from his bag and puts it on without closing it. Guess this is the night where he plays with his shirt open making sure his poor manager dies of frustration.

Robb Stark is a saint, Jaime thinks sometimes, because to manage this guy, you really need to have an insane amount of patience.

Good thing that they never needed one and Jon always took care of it, but still.

“I mean,” Theon says, “in the ideal world, I would, but alas, I know that it’s not meant to be. For one, I’m not your Kinsey scale one —”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“What, that you’re a one or that I’m not it?”

“Both, for —”

“I mean,” Theon goes on, “you obviously aren’t a zero or you wouldn’t stare at your bassist’s ass, and honestly also at your guitarist’s, and I wouldn’t exclude, you know, that you three might have had a go at it at some point —”

“That never happened!” Jaime protests, not that he hasn’t entertained that thought once or twice, but still, he doesn’t bat for that team, as a general rule. He just hates that Theon has apparently figured him out that easily.

“Regardless,” Theon goes on, “you’re a one, but if those two are your type, considering they’re both older than you and ginger and blue eyed and I’m not either of that, I think I’m not it. Also, no way you like pitching.”

+ throbb snippet

“So,” Theon says, as he drags Robb towards the back exit, “I might have told Lannister that I’d leave him the changing room for the night.”

“… What,” Robb says, following even if he’s trying to slow him down, “he finally decided to fess up to that poor girl?”

“Oh, that’s to be seen, I just gave him the chance to,” Theon shrugs, “which is why we’re taking a cab and going to the hotel at once.”

“Wait,” Robb says, “we should —”

He never finishes the sentence because Theon presses him against the wall and kisses him and fucking hell, Robb would like to just give in and let him and actually he would like to grab Theon’s shoulders and press him against the fucking wall, except —

“We should wait until the Kingsguard is done,” he breathes, “you agreed to sign those records, but it has to be with them. And people paid for it.”

“Oh, of course, ever the correct person —”

“Theon, I’m your fucking manager, you picked me, it’s not like you can exactly skirt around — obligations,” he groans when Theon sucks a bruise into his neck.

“Right, right, so you’d rather stay here and wait two hours instead of running to the hotel with me? We could make it, you know, if Jimmy Page and Robert Plant could —”

“It’s not the fucking seventies,” Robb groans, wishing Theon would just not press, even if fuck but now he really feels like he’s going to come in his trousers like a fifteen year-old and the fact that he’s definitely been wanting to kiss Theon at least since then is not helping, and yet —

“Really? I missed that memo.”

+ jb snippet

“Sure,” she says, reaching out to grab it, and then she swallows — “You know,” she said, “you sounded… more intense today.”

“Did I,” he says. “How?”

She shrugs, her large shoulders barely slimmed by the black band shirt sporting his face that she’s wearing, and fuck if it was weird being the face of the merchandise, except that it had to happen.

Fucking Targaryen.

“I’m not quite sure,” she says, “just… there was a difference? In the good sense, though. You felt… more immersed, not to say that you’re not usually, it’s just… I don’t know, I felt like crying more than once.”

Oh.

Well.

“Maybe,” he sighs, “I had a conversation with Greyjoy before that made me realize a few things,” he goes on. “I suppose. I don’t know,” he shakes his head, “I just… you’ve been listening to us since before Rhaegar fucked off, and I just — I guess it just sank in that I’m not going back to my former job anytime soon.”

“Can — can I say I’m not sad that you aren’t?”

“You can,” Jaime shrugs, “it’s just, it felt a bit too much. I never signed up for that.”

“But you sing those songs a lot better than he did.”

“Not the first person that told me that, today.”

“But it’s true. He just — he was good. But you just have a whole other delivery.” She blushes, guileless blue eyes staring into his, and he thinks of how she told him that his songs made her survive high school and some kind of ridiculous bet her supposed friends made about her fucking v-card and he just — fuck. She’s so nice. She’s the kind of nice person you wouldn’t presume listens to his fucked up lyrics, and yet.

And yet she does.

[mshermia]

Christmas Eve - At Peace

That holiday-themed story that I will totally blame @superherotiger for making me procrastinate with ;)

###

Just a couple of months after they defeated Thanos, Tony and Pepper throw a Christmas party. Instead of a partying kid, Tony finds his Spiderling outside in the snow at the grave he has been trying to ignore ever exists.

I'm using my own Fix-it to Endgame "Like You'd know how it works" as a basis for the timeline, though the prompt will work fine without having read that story. The important part is, that Tony's not dead.

Baseline: circa 5 months after Tony is brought back from the multiverse.

###

The sky above him was clear. No clouds. No moon. Above him only the stars. The stars, he still avoided looking at too much. It made the night a little colder, a little darker despite the white snowy blanket covering the hills and trees.

It wasn't that Tony minded the solitude, quite the opposite. That had been the idea behind moving out to the cabin after all. Peace and quiet. Less exposure. Privacy. But of all the places on their property, why did the kid have to go there?

In all fairness, there was nothing quiet or peaceful about what was going on at Tony's house right now. There were 13 people gathered in his living room and kitchen, one of them a black-eyed alien who didn't quite understand the concept of Christmas but had been positively eager to experience all the "merriment and joy" that the little Madame Secretary had been promising from afar. Leave it to Tony to have to explain a spaceship landing in his backyard on Christmas Eve and talk down an international response.

"Morgan said it's an important gathering that every family member is obligated to attend." Nebula's eyes were on Tony, unblinking. "You should have told me sooner. I could have been here last year and the year before but I didn't know."

"Not to worry, Smurfette." There was a sense of genuine joy at seeing her again, that let the smile on his lips come quite easily. "You're here now, so that's that."

It was a sight to be seen how willingly the blue meanie allowed Morgan to put a party hat on her before she was sent off to mingle with the rest of them, studying the mini hot dogs on her plate. That hadn't been the only surprising sight of the evening though. Tony's jaw had equally popped with stunned surprise as he opened the door to a paler and distinctly shorter human version of Bruce Banner. A face Tony hadn't seen on him in years, as he showed up on his doorstep accompanied by a certain master spy that Tony had frankly not been expecting either.

"Making things work then," Tony mused out loud as he hovered next to them while Pepper fetched a welcoming drink.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Just... you know... happy to... to have her back."

"Of course." His head bobbed a short nod with a sincere smile in Natasha's direction. There was no denying that Tony, too, was glad to have her back. Retired or not, he had no illusions that the Avengers would remain anything but a constant in his life one way or another and while Natasha might never be a definite number on his side, she was an ally. Of sorts.

"Well, it's good to see you guys. I know it's quite a drive out here and we had suspected things might be a little more entertaining at the Compound." His thoughts still trailing a little behind, the words had slipped off his tongue before his brain could catch up with what he was saying. He hadn't meant to just straight up mention the Compound, the rest of the team by extension who hadn't received an invite to this particular gathering.

Pepper had wanted to discuss the guest list more than once. Had asked him repeatedly if he wanted to extend an invitation to the others, the team... but Rogers... Steve... no. Christmas was for family and while Bruce and his plus one did count - because Tony wanted him to count - Steve... Steve was not family. When it came down to it, they were hardly even friends. Natasha's eyes were on him and Tony was painfully aware that he was spacing out. No glasses to hide his face, all of a sudden he felt almost too exposed in his own house.

"Oh, we're just splitting the time equally over the holidays." Natasha smiled brightly. "Christmas Eve with one side of the family and then Christmas Day with the other."

Bruce's face fell a little, looking back and forth between them. "It's not sides as much as... just..."

They were saved from more awkwardness as Pepper arrived with the drinks and ushered them further into the house. Bruce was happy to follow along but Natasha hung back, her eyes still on Tony.

"There don't have to be any sides in this." She linked their arms, pushing Tony along, as Bruce shot a glance back at them, just out of earshot. "You can just decide to let it go, Tony."

"I did." It wasn't all that easy to keep the tone light but he was determined not to let this get to him. "I told him, I moved on from all of this years ago."

"We both know that's not the same as solving the real problem." Her voice was low but not unkind. "We both know you never forgave or forget, that he has never earned back your trust."

It didn't matter. He didn't even want to think about how much of that was or wasn't true. Rogers had no place in his thoughts tonight. So the timing was perfect when his eyes came to rest on a brown-haired boy who was creeping closer and closer to the pot of mulled wine. With a lame excuse, he pulled away from Natasha, away from the world he had officially retired from towards the buffet.

"And what do you think you're doing?"

"Me?" The boy's eyes were wide, the cup in his hand already filled to the brim.

"Listen here, squirrel!" His finger poking against Harley's chest, Tony could at least pretend that this was a situation he could actually control. "You take your grabby hands off that mulled wine or so help me..." He snatched the hot drink out of the boy's hands.

"Oh, come on..." His long lashes were blinking at Tony with feigned innocence. "It's not for me."

"That routine might work on some indifferent cater waiter at those benefits but if you think I can't see past your ridiculously lazy—"

"Yeah, yeah..." Harley just waved him off. "Don't be such a killjoy!"

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "I mean it!" For good measure, he took a healthy gulp from the cup, positively burning his throat in the process. But it wasn't until Harley threw his hands in the air and turned his back in defeat - for now - that Tony allowed his face to cringe at the sting. Those little trouble makers were not helping with his heart condition. Speaking of trouble... "Where is Peter?"

Harley crossed his arms in front of himself, his mind clearly brooding on a new strategy. "No clue."

Tony's next sip of the hot wine was a lot smoother than the first. "What do you mean, no clue?"

"It generally means that the person doesn't have any information about the subject that you are—"

"Alright, short stuff..." Tony's eyes were searching the room but the little spider was nowhere to be seen. "A bit less of the asshole routine please?"

"Listen, if you want me to babysit, same rules apply as they do for Morgan." Brazen in his brattiness, the little shit ladled a good helping of mulled wine into a new cup. "I'll need a heads-up and generous compensation that I'm happy to re-negoti— Hey!"

Harley tried to hold on to the cup that Tony once again just plucked from his hands. "You've had enough of this!"

"That one is for Rhodey," the boy scowled.

"Uh-huh. Sure. I'll get it to him and you can enjoy your night without any errands, hm?"

Tony made a point to stare at the kid until he huffed and finally skedaddled away from the wine pot, possibly in search of his sister, or maybe more likely trying to stay out of her and Morgan's way. Careful not to spill either of the two cups, Tony made his way across the room towards Rhodey who had brought a "friend", a development Tony had been mindful not to comment on all night.

The Colonel's eyes looked him up and down as he made a beeline towards them. "Because one is never enough with you, is it, Tones?"

"You..." he hissed, his lips pursed. "You better not try to quip with me, you enabler!" Tony pushed the second cup he was holding into Carol Danvers' hands instead of Rhodey's. "Are you seriously letting my boy use you as an exit strategy to score a buzz?"

Rhodey's eyes shifted to the cup in his "friend" Carol's hands before he nipped on what was left in his own cup and then gave a shrug. "Which one?"

"That's not funny!"

With a deep sigh, Rhodey exchanged his empty cup with Carol's hot one. "Tony, you need to lay off the mother-hen vibes. The boy is 21 years old, as for Peter—."

"No, he's not," Tony growled. "Not for another 6 days!"

"Geez, daddy, do I really have to remind you how old you were when I 'enabled'," Rhodey air-quoted, "your ass in college?"

He said it like he had a point when that was exactly what Tony was afraid of. "And how did that turn out?"

His eyebrows pulled up, Rhodey made a gesture like that would somehow prove something, but Tony was not in the mood for semantics. His eyes roamed across the room - pointedly ignoring Harley who tried to usher Nebula closer and closer to the pot of hot wine - in search of the other little trouble maker.

Where was the kid? He hadn't seen him since... since he had ducked away from awkwardly shuffling his feet back and forth between May and Happy. Without another word, Tony strode past his friend, checking the kitchen but there was no Peter in there either. Everyone else was happily chatting, eating, enjoying themselves exactly like they were supposed to. Not so the Spiderling.

For a few more minutes, Tony quietly, discreetly wandered around the house. He had a feeling, a feeling that something was up. It didn't take long for him to give up the pretense and outright mutter to FRIDAY, asking in which room Peter was hiding.

"He's not in the house, boss." 

That was how Tony found himself outside, stalking up a snowy hill in the dark. The wind was icy, but it wasn't the cold that made the hair on the back of his neck stand tall. He had avoided this for months. Had avoided even thinking about that spot on the hill where his other-dimensional self had been buried before he ever made it to this timeline. With how loudly his brain was rattling, there was a part of him that couldn't deny that right about now, he appreciated the silence in the dark. They were so far away from what people would call the 'civilized' world out here. Surely, with Peter's senses constantly strained in the city, that was the basic appeal to him as well.

It was also how Peter had heard him coming before Tony even had the chance to call out to him.

"How did you find me?"

A little winded from the slippery ascend to the hilltop, Tony paused a couple of steps behind where the boy was sitting in the snow. "Oh, come on... It's me."

Peter pursed his lips, refusing to turn his head. "So, you questioned every single person at the house about when they had seen me last and then calculated the radius of how far I might have come?"

Tony only blew out a huff.

"Ah," Peter exclaimed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Tracking me after all, aren't you."

"Well, duh." Slowly, Tony came closer until he sank to the ground right next to the boy. "Not that I needed it. You're a Spiderling, not an Elf, kid."

"Right." Peter grimaced to himself. "Footprints."

"I keep telling you. Gotta learn how to fly."

The smile that tucked on Peter's lips seemed genuine this time. "You didn't have to come out here."

All of a sudden, Tony contemplated that the boy may have picked this particular spot not because of what it meant to him, but because he had been sure that of all the places, few of the people staying at the house that night would voluntarily wander up here. Tony least of all. There was no denying that the kid had picked up on how much this all freaked Tony out, the fact that there was a dead version of himself buried so close to where he still lived. Silence hung heavy between them before Tony's voice echoed a little quieter, a little hesitant.

"I wasn't sure if I should, but..." He swallowed hard. "I can leave if you want to be alone." 

There was another pause. Wanting to give him room to speak if that was what he wanted, Tony waited but the kid didn't say a thing.

With a shaky exhale, Tony kept his eyes on him. "But then I thought, I'd rather have you send me back than not be here if... if you would need me."

The kid's eyes were still staring straight ahead at the headstone in front of them.

"I know, I'm not him—"

"Of course you are," Peter breathed quietly.

Tony lowered his gaze, faltering. Maybe. "Not really though."

The kid's lip was caught between his teeth, refusing to look over at him. "In... in every way that matters."

"If you want to talk about it—"

"I don't," Peter mumbled.

It had been weeks after he had come back when Tony's curiosity had won out against his anxiety. Late at night on his own in the basement, he had asked FRIDAY to play him the footage of what had happened that day. That day he had died. Pepper, the kid, Rhodey... seeing their agony in the face of what he had done to protect them... it was a memory he just couldn't shake.

"I know, me being here doesn't change what happened. Kid, I know you were there when he..." Tony glanced to the side, searching the kid's face for a reaction. "...when I died."

Peter's head moved in a mixture of a shake and a shrug. "It... it doesn't matter..." His voice shook, possibly trying to convince himself as much as Tony. "You're back. You're... here. It... it's fine..."

"You're sitting at my grave in the freezing cold in the middle of my Christmas Eve party, buddy."

It was as bluntly as he could put it. He could see no benefit in tiptoeing around the demons the kid was battling.

But Peter shook his head more distinctly this time, still denying him. "It was just because... so many people and my senses, they... I just needed a little quiet to... calm down."

"Right. We have about 60 hectares of land out here and still..." Tony blew out a breath and leaned a little closer to the kid. "Still, this is the spot you picked to go." There was no answer from the Spiderling. "It's okay, if it still hurts, buddy."

The humorless chuckle that bubbled out of the kid didn't make things better for either of them.

"Pete, can you look at me?"

He didn't though. His eyes didn't stray from the inscription on the stone. 'A.E.S. - At peace.' A shudder went through Tony at the thought of how his wife had decided on that particular inscription.

"You're here." Peter's eyes dropped further, away from the stone, down to the snowy ground. "You're okay. It... it shouldn't matter..."

Tony grit his teeth then threw caution to the wind. "It's been 5 years and a little more than 8 months since you dusted in my arms, Pete."

The kid visibly shook next, his hands braced against the cold ground as he finally turned to look at Tony. 

"5 years, 8 months, and some odd days." Tony's lower lip was caught between his teeth, his cheeks flushed. The images in his mind were as vivid as they had been on that fateful day on Titan. "You're here now. You're back. You have been back for 6 months and I can still hear your voice in my head pleading how you don't—"

"I'm sorry..." the kid whispered.

Tony huffed out a low chuckle. "Yeah. You said that too."

"I'm sorry that... that you felt responsible," the kid started and Tony had just wanted to protest when the boy stopped him with a wave of his hand. "I am, but it's not the same."

For a brief moment, Tony closed his eyes, trying his best to calm himself and keep the dry bite from his tone. "No. It really isn't the same."

The breath Peter blew out was harsher, angrier. "It's not, because I didn't choose to get dusted," he growled, refusing to look away from Tony now. "I didn't want to die!"

"I know, Pete. I remember." The beat of his heart hurt in his chest. "You think I would have wanted to die?"

Peter shook his head, tearing his gaze away again. "It doesn't matter."

"Kid—"

"Can we just... I don't want to argue about this."

Peter pulled his knees close to his chest and the way his hands were shaking made Tony want to drag him back inside so he could focus on giving him a proper lecture without having to worry about the cold the kid might catch out here. 

Instead, he filed that back for later, deep breaths keeping his own frustration in check. "Maybe we do need to argue about this."

"I just want to move on!"

"And I..." Tony couldn't stop his voice from shaking. "...would really appreciate a chance to argue my side here."

"You don't need to argue your side," the kid hissed at him. "It's not you, I'm mad at, okay?"

Tony studied his boy. He was becoming painfully aware, how strung up the kid really was, how agitated. "It's not a choice anyone wants to make, kid. Sometimes, there is just no other way to —"

"There were like 10 people close by who could have done it." Peter shot him an angry glance. "It didn't have to be you! What about Morgan and Pepper, huh? What about—" He shook his head, eyes back on the snow-covered grave. "Captain Danvers. Thor. King T'Challa. The lady with the flying horse. Strange. Rogers. Barnes. Wanda Maximoff. Me." His head spun back towards Tony. "I could have tried."

Tony's stomach turned at the mere thought of that. "Yeah, there's no way in hell, Pete."

"Why not?" Peter's eyes burned with tears. "Why not! I could have taken it!"

"You have no idea if that's true." His heart was racing, his throat dry. "You might have died."

"So it's fine for you to sacrifice yourself on a whim but for me it—"

"Stop!" The way his hand hit the ground didn't have the grand effect he wanted. "That's not how this will work, kid. Ever. I will always try to keep you safe."

"And what about what I want?" Peter spat at him.

Tony shook his head, his eyebrows knitted close, desperately grasping for control. "I'm here now, am I not?"

"Yeah, for now..."

Any frustrated retort that might have been building up on his tongue died instantly as he watched the boy rub a hand across his face, the way his lower lip was quivering.

 "Kid... come here..." His agitation evaporated and without another beat of hesitation, Tony pulled him close, his arms tightly wrapped around the boy's small frame. "Shh, it'll... it'll be alright."

There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do that would take away the pain of the days when he had seemed lost forever to the people who loved him most. Just like Tony would never be able to quite shake the deep sense of loss he had carried for years when the kid had been dead and gone. 

Peter's hands were clasping the thick fabric of Tony's coat, his face pressed against his chest.

There was nothing he could say, no promises he would make, not the ones the kid wanted to hear right now cause he could never keep any of them. When it came to the kid's safety, his life, he would always put it above his own. No matter how much it might hurt him again, at least the kid would be breathing, would get to live.

"I'm sorry, buddy."

"But... but you're not," he mumbled against Tony's jacket.

He had a hand on the back of the kid's head, holding him tight. "I hate that I hurt you, Pete. I do." He pressed his eyes close, ignoring how the cold was creeping up from underneath him. "But I'll never apologize for trying to keep you safe." The boy shook in his arms, but Tony didn't let him pull away. "I sure as hell won't apologize for succeeding." There was a low tremor in the kid's body that was definitely more than emotions. "You're shaking, buddy. Let's get you back inside."

"I'm not c-cold," Peter hiccoughed.

"Alright, then..." Tony ruffled a hand through the boy's hair, his own digits frozen stiff. "Well, I'm going to get pneumonia and you seem to be very invested in—" He groaned as Peter slapped a hand against his chest.

"It's not f-funny!"

"No, at my age it really isn't something—"

This time, he caught the kid's hand just in time to soften the blow. In the process, Peter sat up straight enough for Tony to squint at his red-rimmed eyes.

"In there, you could watch me bust Harley for sneaking around the mulled wine?" There was a sparkle in the kid's eyes at that. A real sparkle he couldn't quite hide. "Ha! Knew I'd get you with that one."

Peter moved back a bit, shaky fingers rubbing his face. Squinting at the boy, Tony was weighing his words, wondering how many hornet's nest he should be poking at.

"You should get over this, buddy." Tony cringed at the look of utter discomfort on his boy's face. "I mean it. That little power struggle the two of you are going through..?"

"There's no power struggle."

Tony crocked his head at him. "You know what I mean... Kid, I know you want to keep your secrets but Harley can be a great ally to you."

"Right," Peter mumbled. "Can we just like... do this another time?"

He nodded before the kid had even finished the sentence. "Course, buddy." For a moment, Tony held in, his focus never anywhere else but Peter, as he tried to control the tremor in his voice. "So, we should get back inside, right?"

"Yeah. Right." The kid leaned back against him, his voice muffled. "Just... just a couple more minutes?"

Tony swallowed hard, nodding soundlessly. He'd never refuse the kid. Never. How could he ever?

 ###

Merry Christmas and happy holidays wherever and however you guys are celebrating!

Thank you for reading. And thank you even more if you take the time to let me know in the comments what you think about the story and reblog it!

This story is part of my Post-Endgame timeline. More about my Endgame Fix-it and the connected series of stories: “Like You’d Know How It Works” timeline 

[goodnightevan]

something wretched about this (something so precious about this)- A Vera x Hamish Fic

Alternatively called Caught: A Vera x Hamish Fic

A/N: Sorry it took a while but I finally finished a prompt! This ended up bringing two prompts in one so hopefully that’s okay. Also it got way longer than I expected. Hopefully it turned out okay.

Prompts: Hamish and Vera (madly but like subtly (or not) in love- from  @upsetpizzaaaa

Everyone walks in on Hamish and Vera- from @nerdgenie:

Warning: It starts a little angsty but then gets more lighthearted. 

Enjoy :)

________________________________________________________________

They really needed to stop doing this. Meaning, that he and Vera needed to stop having sex in her office, not that they needed to stop having sex in general. They had way too many close calls for comfort and even though everyone practically already knew, both of them had agreed to keep their...relationship private. So they really needed to stop doing it in a place where anyone could just waltz right in while they were in a...compromising position. Though they also frequented both her place and his apartment, those were more for when they had made plans in advance and/or wanted to stay the night. The reliquary was more...convenient since both Vera and even Hamish for the past few months spent more time at the temple than anywhere else.  Often either dealing with the latest Order business or researching the current threat against them all. Even though after the breaches stopped where they ended up spending more time at the other’s places, more often than not they still found themselves having stolen moments in her office. Usually it was either after another failed attempt of getting Vera’s magic back or when seeing the beautiful bar in the temple’s lounge became too tempting for Hamish and his sobriety. 

This time it was a little mix between the two. 

Vera had started to close in on herself after the latest spell they had tried to get her powers back also didn’t work. She had looked so...broken. Definitely not like the powerful woman, with or without magic, whom Hamish had grown to care for way too quickly for his liking. Yet, at the same time, he knew the significance of her showing him such open vulnerability and selfishly relished in it. He relished in the fact that Vera was opening up to him, showing the sides to her that she deemed “weak”, not in the fact that she was hurting in a way that he couldn’t seem to help. 

It reminded Hamish too much of Cassie. Of the times where the hunt to stop bad magic got too much, dealing with yet another loss pack member because of it. To anyone else, she was a poised pack leader, ready to fight for their cause no matter the cost. To him, he saw much, much more than that. In retrospect, that was probably one of the many reasons why he was so drawn to Vera in the first place, even when she was the enemy. Apparently his type was older strong, powerful women leaders who often felt like they had the weight of the world on their shoulders but didn’t show it. It was moments like those, where Vera looked so lost without her magic like she was about to give up, where the reminders of Cassie got too much for Hamish and all he wanted was to go to the lounge’s bar and get himself lost in all of his favorite cocktails. 

Only he didn’t.

Instead, Hamish had followed Vera into her office before closing the door behind them with the snap of his fingers and watched as she sunk into her chair, her eyes looking into empty nothingness. He had ended up kneeling down in front of her and gently touched her cheek, making her turn to catch his gaze. Instead of recoiling away like she had the first time he tried to comfort her, she sunk further into his touch. 

“Listen to me.” He had fiercely told her. “You are still a powerful and terrifying woman, with or without your magic.”

A small smile had appeared on her face and shone brightly in her eyes at his words. She had then turned away from his grasp, leaving his arm to fall on his side, and cleared her throat. “Even if that may be. The council is going to find out sooner or later. And when they do...” Vera hadn’t finished her sentence, but she didn’t have to.

They wouldn’t allow her to be the Grand Magus, or even to still be a part of the Order of The Blue for that matter. The least damage they would do would be erasing her memories of her entire life in the Order, like she had done with him and the rest of the Knights. However, he knew that in the Order’s eyes, Vera had been very lenient on them when she had done it.  If most or even some of the council members were like Kepler, then they’d might want to kill Vera and be done with it, not wanting to risk someone with that much information on the Order to get in the wrong hands. 

“Hey,” Hamish had said, taking her hand within his, “look at me.”

Normally Vera would scold him for telling her, the Grand Magus, what to do. Instead, she had turned to look at him again with an annoyed expression on her face that didn’t hide the sadness and fear in her eyes. “What?”

“I’m not going to let that happen.” 

She gave him an incredulous look, “Oh really? How do you manage to do that? We’re nowhere close to finding a way to get my magic back and you can only use magic for me to stay face for too long.”

“Well, I think my acting has improved.” He teased to which she rolled her eyes. Hamish then placed his free hand on her cheek again, and began to say in a more serious tone, “I’ll make sure no one finds out even if it’s the last thing I do. And we will find a way to get your magic back. Mark my words.” 

Her eyes shone with such emotion that he had the pleasure of being one of the few people to witness. “Why do you care so much? Why would you risk everything for me?”

Hamish gave her a small smile that hopefully told her everything that he couldn’t fully say yet. He then took her hand that he had still been holding and lifted it up towards him before placing his lips against her soft skin. He put all of the feelings that he had felt for her as much as he possibly could in that one kiss. At her barely audible gasp of pleasure, Hamish tilted his head to meet her gaze. “I think you know why.”

And just like that, their mouths and bodies had swiftly collided.

It usually would be rough and hungry with both of them exhilaratingly fighting for dominance, Tundra loving the push and pull as well. But then she’d eventually take over and he’d always happily oblige. Though this time had still been similar, it had been slower, both taking their time to discover each other’s bodies on top of her desk like it was their first time doing so. There were moments where it was still rough and hungry and then others where they were slow and tender, depending on which emotion they wanted to get out at the moment. Whether it was from their individual emotional turmoil or their feelings towards each other, they poured it all out. 

Nothing else existed. Only Vera. And their bodies colliding together in perfect harmony and euphoria.

Usually Hamish would be able to get lost in the Grand Magus but be alert enough to use his keen wolf senses to detect if anyone was coming before it was too late. They had a little more close calls recently since he also had to use his magic to quickly make themselves and her office look unruffled. But they had always made it just in time before getting caught. 

Only, this time their luck had finally run out. 

Unlike those other times, Hamish had completely gotten so lost in Vera that even if he had heard someone coming or Tundra’s warnings, he hadn’t even noticed. Which was why when the doors flew open, they didn’t have any time to separate before the entire pack caught them in an extremely compromising position. 

“Shit.” Hamish breathed out as both he and Vera quickly tore themselves from each other as he both heard Randall and Jack make two completely different kinds of noises of shock. 

Vera then quickly grabbed the nearest piece of clothing and covered as much as she could before nudging his shoulder. He tore his gaze from the gaping mouths of his friends to catch her expectant look. 

“Clothing spell.” The Grand Magus ordered him, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And it was, but Hamish was also used to being naked in front of his fellow knights and the thought didn’t occur to him as quickly as it would have if anyone else caught them. 

But then once she gave him the command, it completely sunk in that they all had caught him naked with Vera. He then quickly spoke the incantation that put anything that they had messed up back in their places, including their clothes. 

“I knew it!” Randall exclaimed, pointing his finger toward the pair both out of accusation and triumph. He then turned his attention to his fellow wolves. “You all owe me 50 bucks each.”

“We agreed to no such thing, Babe.” Gabrielle replied first, arm intertwined with his as she checked her nails on her other hand, not seeming to be phased by the current situation.

 He gave her an incredulous look like she said that 2+2=5. “Uh, yeah we did.”

“No we didn’t.” Jack interjected, who had his hand covering his eyes and his back facing Hamish and Vera. “You said and I quote ‘I bet you 50 bucks that Hamish and Vera are doing it’. And I said ‘I’d rather turn myself into a tree again than find out’.”

“And I said that I didn’t give two flying shits.” Lilith chimed in. “I’m just glad that it seems like Hamish is having an active sex life again.”

“Thanks, Lil.” Hamish gave her a small tight smile, wanting to be anywhere but there. If they had caught him with anyone else, then he’d take their teasing in stride. But this was the Grand Magus. And Vera Stone, with or without the esteemed title, wasn’t like anyone else. 

Gabrielle interrupted his thoughts with a bored sigh. “And I said that they are obviously screwing each other so I definitely wasn’t going to bet against you.” She then turned her attention toward Jack and rolled her eyes. “Jack, you can turn around now. They’re fully clothed.”

“I don’t wanna.” He huffed, reminding Hamish of a little kid. 

Randall wrapped an arm around Jack’s shoulder, “Come on, Dude. I thought you were way passed the whole ‘only-child-shy-around-naked-people’ thing?”

“It’s not that. I’d just rather not see Hamish and Vera all,” he visibly shuddered, “post sex and shit.” 

The two in question turned to look at each other, both silently ready to end this little conversation about their personal sex life with the entire pack. 

However, Randall responded to Jack before they could. “Ohhhh. I get it, Buddy. This is awkward for you because you see Vera like some weird hot mom figure. And no one wants to see their parental figure getting all hot and sweaty with their friend.”

“That is enough, Mr. Carpio.” Vera finally spoke up, using her ‘sexy Grand Magus in charge’ tone, as Hamish secretly liked to call it. She then as gracefully as possible, slid down off of her desk before straightening her clothes. The Grand Magus then stood behind her chair and clasped her hands together, looking as regal as ever. “I think we can all be civilized adults here. So can you please act like it and make sure this stays between us?” 

“Oh, like a ‘what happens in the Reliquary stays in the Reliquary’ sorta thing?” Randall asked, making weird hand motions that Hamish for the life of him could not decipher. 

Hamish then quickly got up from the desk as well. “Basically.” He nodded, folding his arms. “Can you all just please keep your mouth shut about this?”

The four knights looked at each other before turning their attention back to the pair and all nodded in unison. A certain sense of pride formed within him at the sight of his wolves making a decision together without any verbal communication and being so in sync. 

“If you really want to keep whatever,” Lilith began to say then waved a lazy hand toward him and Vera before continuing, “this is. Then you really should stop screwing in a place where anyone can just waltz in and catch you two banging each other’s brains out.”

Hamish placed his hand on his head in exasperation as Vera cleared her throat. “Duly noted, Miss Bathory. Now can we all please move on from mine and Mr. Duke’s private relationship and focus on whatever it was you four came here to talk about?”

He straightened his stance, ready to focus on more Order and Knight business instead of his friends continuing to talk about his and Vera’s relationship. 

Jack then raised his hand and Hamish could not help but be amused at the sight. 

“Mr. Morton, this isn’t a classroom.” Vera told him, a slight soft tone of fondness laced in her voice. 

Jack looked at his outreached hand and seemed to realize what he was doing before putting it down and saying, “Right. Sorry. I just have a question before we change the subject.” 

Hamish and Vera both turned to look at each other for a moment, both deciding together if they should allow him to ask the question or just finally move on from this horrid conversation. They then both sighed, knowing that they were going to give in anyways. 

Turning their attention back to Jack, the pair reluctantly nodded. 

“Fine. Go ahead.” Hamish answered for them, bracing himself for whatever the question was. 

“Just please try to be quick, Mr. Morton. This isn’t a high school bathroom where we dish on the latest gossip.”

“Not with that attitude it’s not.” Randall muttered under his breath, earning a glare from both the Grand Magus and Hamish. 

“Well…” Jack timidly began to say then cleared his throat before continuing. “What exactly is going on between you two?”

Hamish immediately regretted his and Vera’s decision to allow him to ask the question, even though that was the most probable question for him to ask. 

Jack continued. “I mean besides…” He then proceeded to awkwardly create an image with his hands that normally Hamish would’ve laughed at if it wasn’t about him and Vera. 

Randall shook his head. “No, Dude you got it wrong. It was more like this.” He then proceeded to create his own, making Hamish groan in annoyance. 

He was going to kill his friends. 

“That’s enough!” Vera exclaimed, one hand on her hip and the other placed on her head in frustrated exasperation. 

“Seriously, you two.” Hamish scolded them. He then relaxed himself and shrugged before continuing in a more casual tone, “Besides, it was more like a mix between the both of them.”

 “Not helping.” She chided, giving him a deadly glare that made him gulp both out of fear and from being turned on. The Grand Magus then cleared her throat before turning her attention back toward the four knights, Jack in particular. “Mr. Morton, as I said, my and Hamish’s relationship is private. And we prefer it to be that way.”

It was not lost on him that she called him by his first name and not ‘Mr. Duke’. Which Vera usually would do in public as a guise to help make appearances look like she didn’t see him in a different way from anyone else. Sometimes, she’d call him ‘Mr. Duke’ in private but for completely different reasons. But that was beside the point. 

Hamish then noticed Jack had been looking between him and Vera. “But it is a relationship? Not just...that?” 

She opened her mouth to respond and he knew that she was probably going to reiterate that their relationship was private or even say something like ‘That’s none of your business Mr. Morton’. Instead, her mouth closed again before Vera turned to catch Hamish’s gaze. Her expression was filled with more emotion than she liked to show, especially in public. There was a vulnerability in it that he only saw when it was just the two of them. Her eyes searched within his, seeming to ask permission. 

He then nodded and gave her a small yet tender smile. Before she could do anything else, however, he walked toward her before placing an arm around her back and waist. Vera gave him a small, genuine smile that he noticed was only reserved for him, and wrapped her own arm around his back as well. 

She then turned her head back toward his four fellow knights.  “Yes, we are indeed in a relationship.”

The four of them were uncharacteristically silent as they seemed to take the image in. 

Randall became the first one to speak up, seeming to be the one that was more shocked that they were in an actual relationship. “So you two aren’t just angerly boinking each other because it’s kinda forbidden and hot?”

“No.” Hamish answered him with a wince. “And please never say the word ‘boinking’ ever again.”

“Or the term ‘weird hot mom figure’ while we’re at it.” Vera chimed in. She then lifted her free hand up and pointed a finger in the air. “In fact, consider those actual orders from your Grand Magus.”

Randall rolled his eyes. “Ugh, why do you always gotta ruin the fun?” Only, there wasn’t any malice in his voice like there would’ve been a month or so prior. 

“With that out of the way,” Vera began to say, “do any of you have any more questions about us that we may or may not answer before we talk about actual Order business?” Vera asked them all in general. “Mr. Carpio?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I think for now I’ve had my fill of the Adventures of Hameo and Veriet.”

Hamish groaned and placed his free hand on his forehead again. “Don’t drag her into the names. They’re bad enough just with me.”

Randall shook his head. “No can do Hamikan Skywalker. You and Veradme Amidala are a package deal now.”

“Hey, you know I identify more with Obi-wan Kenobi.” Hamish couldn’t help but argue. “Besides, if you watched Clone Wars like I keep telling you to do so then you’d know we’re way more like Obi-wan Kenobi and Duchess Satine.”

“Okay fine, how’s Hami-wan Kenobi and Veratine?”

Hamish mulled it over. “Hmmm. Actually not bad this time.”

“Enough! The both of you!” Vera exclaimed. “I am this close to powdering you both again and making you think that you are penguins from Antarctica.” 

“Sorry.” Hamish apologized in a soft tone, giving her a fond look, which seemed to calm her.

Randall didn’t seem phased by her threat like he would’ve been before. “That’s a very oddly specific threat. May I ask why a penguin? I mean they’re adorable and all. But if I were to think that I was an animal I’d much prefer to be a puppy.”

“Duly noted.” Hamish told him and then turned to the other three. “Anyone else have questions before we never talk about this again? Jack?” 

“Nah, I’m good. After this conversation I’ll be happy to never talk or even think about this ever again.”

“Agreed.” Vera interjected then turned her attention to Lilith. “Miss Bathory?”

“Nope.” She shrugged. “I’m just glad Hamish seems to be the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time.” She then asked him, “You are happy, right?”

Hamish stole a quick glance at the woman who he still had his arm around, before looking back at Lilith and nodding with a giant smile. “Very.”

He noticed Vera looking at him but couldn’t quite meet her gaze, feeling a little self-conscious.

“I have a question.” Gabrielle interjected. 

The Grand Magus turned her head toward her direction. “Yes, Miss Dupres?”

“Are you happy, Grand Magus?” She asked pointedly, something sparkling in her eyes that Hamish couldn’t quite figure out and was kind of afraid to.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.” Vera answered in a clear, authoritative voice. But he knew better, feeling her arm loosen in its hold. 

She was closing in on herself again.

“Well, you did ask if we had any more questions and that is mine. You don’t have to answer, like you said before. But I figured since Hamish answered the question that you might as well.”

“Gabrielle.” Hamish chided, but she didn’t look phased. He wondered what angle she was playing, but knew it wasn’t anything nefarious that she might’ve had in the past.  Whatever it was, however, she seemed to be using her psych degree for help. 

He then looked at Vera. “You don’t have to answer it.”

“It’s okay.” She told him, still looking at Gabrielle. The younger girl gave her what seemed to be a nod of encouragement. Vera then shifted her body in his grasp so that she was fully facing him. She then gently placed her hand on his cheek, making Hamish stare at her wide-eyed. It had been hard for her to visibly show affection, and though the process was slow, she had been starting to show it more and more to him. But doing so in front of the others? That was completely out of her comfort zone. Did she really care about him enough to do so? What exactly was happening?

Vera then gave him a rare and bright smile before saying, “Yes. I am very happy. Happier than I’ve ever been in a long time.” Her eyes then shifted inward and he could practically hear her say in her head, “Even with the ever lingering threat of my demise without my magic”. 

Hamish couldn’t help but gulp at the sincerity in her voice and the way she looked at him with such emotion. He was completely taken aback by not only her words and the fact that she even said them in the first place, but also the fact that she said them in front of his friends. It would be amazing enough whenever she would show him such vulnerability when it was just the two of them. And now she was showing not only her vulnerability but her feelings for him to the others. 

Oh how he so badly wanted to kiss her and then go back on her desk to finish what they started. 

But his friends were still there and they already saw way too much. Both in the physical sense and the emotional sense. 

Seeming to be thinking the same thing, Vera changed her expression and tore herself from each other’s grasps. Both he and Tundra ached at her missing touch already. She then walked around her desk and toward his four knights, clearing her throat. “If any of you utter a word about anything that just happened since the moment you walked in, I will make you regret it so badly that you’d wish you dealt with an Emperor demon instead. Do I make myself clear?”

The four of them nodded with both amusement but mostly fear in their eyes. “Yes Grand Magus.” They answered in unison.

Vera then clasped her hands together. “Great. Now that all of that is finally over.” She then placed her on her hips expectantly. “What was such an emergency that all four of you needed to come to tell me?”

“Oh right yeah.” Jack responded first before clearing his throat and saying in a more serious tone. “Speaking of demons...there’s one on the loose.” 

Both Hamish and Vera gaped at them before he asked, “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” 

“Sorry, we were a little distracted by the confirmation that Vermish became canon.” Randall answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Hamish gave him a pointed look. “You gave us a ship name?”

“He did.” Jack answered for him. “Like a while ago.”

He mulled the name over. It was kind of flattering that their relationship had a name. “I like it.”

“What the hell is a ship name?” Vera asked, but then shook her head. “Never mind, I do not want to know. We’ve tangented enough already.” She then went back to full Grand Magus mode. “Pray tell, what do you know about this demon?”

“We’re not quite too sure who it is, but if my suspicions are correct then I think they’re a friend of mine and possibly not even all that dangerous.” Lilith answered for them.

“Right, you have demon friends now.” Vera then walked back toward the back of her desk before taking a seat at her chair. 

Hamish remained standing beside her, placing a hand on the top of her chair. Vera then placed her own hand within his before pulling it down to the arm of her chair and placing their intertwined hands on top. All four of the knights eyed the hand placed but didn’t seem to be bothered by it. 

Vera then gave his hand a gentle squeeze for comfort before saying, “Now, tell us everything you know.”

[stevesnailbat]

were you ever mine to begin with? | steve harrington

summary: Was Steve ever really in love with the girl he called his girlfriend, or was it all a game?

warnings: pure angst

word count: 1.0K

a/n: I saw a quote/prompt somewhere on tumblr that said “Were you ever mine to begin with?” and wanted to write about it. So, here it is! It’s pretty short but very angsty, enjoy!

She was alone in the corner of the gym, all dressed up for no reason. There was a stain of red lipstick on the right sleeve of her baby blue dress, a smudge of mascara underneath her right eye. She watched as every other teen in the room seemed to be having the time of the life, dancing the night away to Queen and ABBA. Prom was supposed to be a magical night, but not for her.

She had told herself that she would still come, still act strong, still seem unbothered. When she got her heart shattered by Steve Harrington a week before prom, she promised that she wouldn’t let it get to her, but it did. Coming to the gym, she acted strong; she came with Nancy and Jonathan, acted like she was having fun for a while. Her act kept strong until she locked eyes with Steve from across the room. The boy she was supposed to be with, the boy who she loved so dearly, the boy who ripped her heart out of her chest and stomped it into the ground. When she saw him with another girl, she felt like it was happening all over again. She rushed to the bathroom, flashbacks to the week before running through her mind.

Seeing him again made her nauseous, seeing him again made her cry. It was like she got punched in the gut over and over again until she couldn’t breathe anymore. All she could think about was the way he threw everything that he had with her out the window, all for something as stupid as a one night stand.

Blinking back some tears, she made her way from the bathroom to the dance floor to tell Nancy goodbye. She didn’t want to see him anymore, she didn’t want to be reminded of what he had done. Searching the room ceased when the song changed, Leo Sayer’s voice coming across the loud speaker singing More Than I Can Say, their song. Memories of Steve poorly singing the words to the song flooded her mind and tears threatened to flood her eyes. Before she could make it to the couple, someone’s shoulder bumped into her shoulder. She mumbled an apology before her eyes met with the big brown eyes that were oh-so-familiar to her.

Steve noticed the bags under her puffy eyes, the lipstick smeared on her sleeve, the mascara under her eye. She was a mess and it was all his fault. Before she could walk away from him, he reached to her wrist to pull her back to him as gently as he could. His eyes were pleading as he asked her to dance, saying he just wanted to talk to her. She didn’t know if she was too exhausted to deny or if she really wanted to, but she obliged. It wasn’t like her to start a scene in public, but she knew Steve might if she gave him reason to.

A light peeking from underneath the door, Steve’s. A panting that didn’t waiver when she opened the door, Steve’s. A sweater strewn across the floor, Steve’s. A pair of rough hands roaming another girl’s waist, Steve’s. A pair of lips smashed against lips that weren’t hers, Steve’s.

All Y/N could think about was the moaning girl she found straddling Steve, touching him in places only Y/N was allowed to. It’s as all that was on her mind as his hands snaked around her waist on the dance floor. The way he gripped the girl’s hips in ways he promised he was only supposed to do to her flashed in her mind and Y/N flinched under his touch.

“I don’t want you to try to explain anything to me, Steve. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” she said in an exhausted tone when she saw Steve open his mouth.

“Can we just...talk outside?” he said, not really waiting for a reply before he pulled her out of the gym doors. “Listen. I don’t want to make excuses for myself. I just want to say that I’m sorry. I messed up, I know I did. I lost you, the one good thing in my life. I know I can’t win you back after what you saw...I was just caught up in the moment.”

“You broke my fucking heart, Harrington.” she spat, using the name she hadn’t called him since they first met hurt, but she didn’t think he deserved to be called anything else. “I was yours, your girl. I wore that shit like a badge of honor. I was proud to call you my boyfriend.”

He said nothing, staring at the ground as he stood speechless for the first time in a conversation with her. He didn’t know what to say as she poured what was left of her heart out in front of him.

“Just answer this for me.” she said sternly, wiping a rogue tear from her eye. “Were you ever mine to begin with? Did you ever see the future that I saw for us? Were you really mine?”

“Of course. I was yours, our love was real and I was proudly your boyfriend. It still is, Y/N.” he whispered as she scoffed, shaking her head. He cupped her face in his hands to wipe some tears but she pulled away as if his hands were made of ice. “I’m being serious.”

“I don’t believe anything coming from your mouth. Don’t act like you’re hurting like I am, Steve.” she snarled, anger pouring from her voice.

“Even if I am, I deserve it. I don’t care if you accept my apology, but I am sorry.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she had a chance to pull away. “Just know that I love you and none of this is your fault.”

“I know.” she said, not replying to the first part.

Sure, she still loved him. But could she ever forgive him? No. The image of the girl on his lap would replay in her mind forever, the thought of his lips on another girl’s breaking her heart slowly, over and over again. She didn’t believe the words he said at the high school that day, always second guessing herself. Every day she questioned, was he ever really hers to begin with?

[winetae]

:: modern loneliness

⇨ prompt : android!hoseok x reader. 2205 words. drabble with a possible follow-up. it’s been 38 days since you’ve last seen and interacted with a living, breathing person and you’re slowly going insane.

.

[Week 1 of lock down.]

At first, you’re optimistic. 

Working from home comes with its own set of non-negligeable perks. Notably, no more commute time! No more squeezing in between sweaty men on the subway during rush hour just to get home. The new arrangement means that you’re no longer obliged to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to blow-dry your hair or meticulously put on makeup while stuffing a bagel into your mouth because you’re short on time. 

On Day 1 of quarantine, you roll out of bed and don’t even bother to change out of your pajamas. It’s quite the sight. Not that you care whether or not your hair looks like a bird’s nest or if there’s a small hole in your shirt. You’d gladly take your flannel pants and old university sweatshirt with the coffee stain by the collar over the rigid pencil skirt and stupid obligatory heels they force you to wear to the office. Ironing? You don’t know her. 

That’s not to say there aren't any inconveniences but as of now, the pros outweigh the cons. For one, you’re now allowed to add as much sugar into your coffee without susciting your coworkers’ judgement. You can blast angry rap songs while finishing your reports and no one will stop you. The list goes on. 

With all this newfound time on your hands, you have no more valid reasons to procrastinate. You start off by cleaning out the kitchen cabinets you’d been meaning to re-organize for months. Then you rearrange your wardrobe, dust off the top shelves of your bookcase that you usually skip over because no one can see them, and water the potted plants you’d been neglecting. 

It feels great to be so productive. Your friends tell you via FaceConnect that your productivity streak won’t last long, but you’re quick to shake off their doubts. 

“I’m a new me!” You insist when Mia’s laughter echoes around your empty apartment. “My life is back on track. I feel like a proper adult now that I’m not struggling so much to get everything done.”

“Sure,” she humors you. “Just don’t get upset when I tell you I told you so.”

.

[Day 8 of lockdown.]

Now that your apartment is cleaner than it’s ever been, you need to find other means of entertainment. According to the internet, now is the ideal time to learn a new language or acquire a new hobby, like crocheting or playing the guitar. But while it might be technically possible to learn a language, you’re definitely not an overachiever. You’re aware of your own limits. 

Today you try your hand at baking. To some it might not seem like a big deal. But for someone like you who solely uses the kitchen to boil ramyeon packets and chop the occasional vegetable, today’s venture into the world of cooking is the equivalent of a quantum leap. 

The molten lava cakes that come out of the oven 15 minutes later don’t look like the picture advertised in the online recipe. They don’t taste like how you’d expected, either. 

You try not to be too disappointed with your failed attempt. After all, it’s only your first try. Dry cakes aren’t that bad in comparison to the horrors that could have occurred. At least nothing is burnt and your oven is still intact. You’ll try again tomorrow with hopefully a little more success.

.

[Day 16 of lockdown.]

It turns out that baking is not for you. After numerous trials and errors you learn a few days later that you have no vacation to be a baker. You end up abandoning all attempts to acquire a new hobby and instead look for new ways to pass the time. 

Thankfully, your home server is offering free VOD for a limited amount of time, so you’re not short on distractions. You consume around half a dozen cult movies, the kind people always reference and quote without actually watching, before you finally begin crossing TV series off your to-watch list. 

You yawn. It’s 9 PM on a Saturday night and you’ve just finished binging the entire season of Tiger King. It’s the third show you’ve watched from start to finish since quarantine began and now you’re wondering whether you should start a fourth. 

“Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do,” you say before a grimace crosses your face. “Oh great... Now I’m talking to myself.” 

That can’t be a good sign, you think to yourself. How long has it been since you’ve last talked to someone? You used to call your parents every day but when there’s nothing new to report, the conversations become repetitive and dull. 

You should call Mia. Just to see how she’s doing.

.

[Day 24 of lockdown.] 

YOUR WEEKLY BASKET FROM FOODCONNECT HAS ARRIVED. ALL PURCHASES WILL BE ADDED TO YOUR MONTHLY EXPENSES CARD. REMINDER THAT DUE TO THE EXCEPTIONAL CIRCUMSTANCES, CONNECT CARDS ARE ALLOWED A 5000 EXCESS OVER FIXED LIMIT. TOTAL EXCESS HAS NOT YET BEEN REACHED.

.

[Day 38 of lockdown.] 

You’re browsing BH, hoping to restock your vitamins. Lately you’ve been feeling tired and mentally drained, despite your workload not being what it used to be. Why you’re so exhausted is a mystery you’ve yet to solve. In all logic, your energy level should be at an all time high now that you’re working less and spending all your free time lounging on the couch surfing the internet. 

According to the national health guideline, you’re supposed to be exercising an hour a day minimum in order for your body to remain in good condition. Your BODYCONNECT watch monitor beeps every hour to remind you that you haven’t completed the suggested activity. 

Ugh. 

You press the button on the side of the watch to turn the reminder off. It’s the fifth time you’ve had to silence it today but you can’t bring yourself to work up a sweat right this minute. You keep telling yourself that you’ll exercise later but like all things lately, later ends up being never. 

Come to think of it, this isn’t the first time you’ve caught yourself slacking off. Where did all your motivation during week 1 of lockdown go? You don’t even have the strength to do ten jumping jacks anymore; it’s like your bones belong to a person three times your age - feeble and brittle and threatening to break at a moment’s notice. 

LOW ON SEROTONIN? WE’VE GOT YOU COVERED. Flash promo over in 00:32:43! Limited offer while supplies last.

A bright yellow advertisement flashes on the top right corner of your screen. Intrigued, you follow the link without expecting much. The last thing you expect is to be brought directly to BH LAB’s homepage. 

“Um… I don’t think I have the budget for this…” You mutter under your breath and prepare to exit out of the page. 

Androids are usually employed by the government but the ones for sale to the general public are known to be exorbitantly expensive. 

A message reads: EXCLUSIVE 1 HOUR PROMO, 40% OFF YOUR FIRST PURCHASE. Click here for more details. Offer valid for new customers only. 

You pause and decide to click on the link. Looking around won’t hurt anyone, right? It’s not like you’ve decided to buy anything yet. 

The seven Dwellers available for sale are just as good looking as you expected them to be. Their unnaturally good looks and vibrant green eyes are what makes them easy to pick out from the crowd. 

You skim through each Dweller’s description. It seems that apart from the physical differences like their facial features and build, they each have their own specialty and characteristics. One of the best-selling models boasts the cooking ability of a 5-star chef, which you admit sounds very tempting since your skills with a knife are pathetic enough to make Gordon Ramsey cry. 

Another best-selling model specializes in...sex. You blink, your cheeks warming as you read over the model’s description (the “thick, vibrating cock that guarantees an orgasm every time!” comment makes you choke on your saliva). You can understand straight away why this particular model would be so popular. All of the models are pretty, but this one’s face doesn’t look like it’s from this world. Confinement would make anyone horny, and when promised a godly sex bot equipped with a vibrating dick, well…

Too bad you’re too tired these days to even think about having “mind-blowing sex for 5 hours straight.” Having such intense intercourse would probably make you pass out on the Dweller’s artificial cock, and there’s no way in hell you would want someone from CONNECT to intervene after receiving distressed signals from your body monitor. That would just be embarrassing. 

You’re about to exit out of the page, curiosity sated, when the last model catches your eye.

SEROTONIN BOOSTER. Low on energy? Feeling sad or depressed? Need a companion? 

This model is perfect for you! Model JHS is equipped with emotion sensors. They will fulfill your every need even when you’re not able to vocalize them. Stressed? They specialize in massages and are proficient in: Swedish massages, Aromatherapy, Shiatsu massages, Reflexology, among others. 

Personality : This model is energetic. They are very active and therefore requires a minimum 6 hours to recharge. They are extremely tactile and will easily engage in skinship such as hugs or holding hands. They are talkative and will hold passionate conversations with you about almost any subject. 

Likes : cleaning, working out

Dislikes : horror movies, strong smells

When reading the description, it feels they’re talking about a person rather than an android. You’re surprised to see that the Dwellers are programmed to have a certain personality that caters to specific needs because the only androids you’ve ever come across before are the government ones, and they’ve always been stoic and devoid of any distinguishing characteristic. 

It would be nice, you think, to have a companion. Someone you could talk to for real instead of through a pixelated hologram. As much as you enjoy your time alone, each passing day locked in your apartment makes you realize how much you long for a hug. You miss holding someone in your arms, feeling their heartbeat against your cheek and the rise and fall of their chest as they squeeze you back. 

Model JHS looks like he could fill that vacancy. Their smile is blinding, like they’re physically radiating sunshine through their expression alone. You don’t doubt their capacity to bring positive energy into your life. 

Before you can think twice about it you’re adding the model to your shopping cart. The site asks you if you want to pay more in order to customize them. For an additional fee, you’re able to tweak the Dweller’s personality or modify their physical attributes to your liking. You skip over the option. For one, you don’t have the funds to afford a vibrating dick enhancement and two, you’re more than satisfied with your Dweller as they are.

It’s not until you finish supplying all your information including your Connect Card details and shipping address that you realize what a monumental purchase you’re about to make and how empty your account will be by the end of it.

You stare at the price listed at the bottom of the screen and weigh your options. Even with the 40% reduction, it’s not a negligible sum. You could buy several models of the new Birkin bag you’d been saving up for with this money. 

Why purchase designer bags when you can’t even go out and use them? a voice argues. And - uh. Fair point. 

In any case, you’d have to stop shopping, eating out all the time and going on frivolous trips overseas. Not that you really have a choice, given the circumstances. 

You look at the laptop screen again. Are you seriously so touch-deprived that you’re willing to fork over that much money for a live-at-home android? Really? 

Fuck it. 

You click on [VALIDATE PAYMENT] before rationality has time to kick in and you change your mind again. Just as the screen changes and the new page loads, you feel your heart leap to your throat but it’s too late to back out now. 

PROCESSING ORDER …

...

CONGRATULATIONS! 

YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY ORDERED (1) DWELLER - JHS MODEL. WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE. 

(!) Your order is eligible for Instant Shipping (delivered to your door in 24 hours or less). 

(!!) Due to exception circumstances, your order might encounter delays. We are taking multiple steps to ensure the safety and hygiene of all products and shipments. For more information click here.

(!) All BH products are covered by a limited two-year warranty. Please refer to warranty details regarding your product in the Dweller E-HandBook, free for download here. Please register your product after purchase in order to qualify for future claims, returns, and support.

You expel the breath you’d been holding. Your father will throw a fit once he finds out you’ve blown all your money on a bot. The criticism is warranted.

What are you even supposed to say to defend yourself? You’ve bought a  Dweller on a whim while browsing for Vitamin C supplements.

Quarantine is really making you lose your goddamn mind, huh.

[orlissa]

Shadow of Night Read Along: Chapter 18

On Thursday, Matthew picks Diana up from Baynard’s Castle, where she spent the day working on an alchemical experiment with Mary. Back at the Hart and Crown, Matthew notes how animated she looks, to which Diana answers that she enjoys being a student again, even if it was difficult at first not to have all the answers. Matthew also tells her that he thinks she was lonely before, and she still might be. However, before they could continue their discussion, visitors arrive: Father Hubbard requests Matthew and Diana to come and see him at seven. After much prompting, Matthew—terrified and angry at Diana for causing this—explains that Father Hubbard is a vampire and former priest, who rules over all the creatures in London. Hubbard adopts lost souls to his “family” by tasting their blood and thus learning their secrets. At least the de Clermonts have a standing agreement with Hubbard that exempts them from this obligation—Matthew says he should have told Hubbard that Diana was his wife, so he would leave her alone. He had his ideas how to evade Hubbard, but they all failed, and now he can do nothing but comply. Soon, a small party of Matthew, Diana, Gallowglass, Hancock, and Pierre sets out to go to Hubbard’s. After a short journey, they arrive at the vampire’s lair, situated below an old, desolate church, full of Hubbard’s family, including Chandler and Kit. Upon their arrival, Hubbard first roughly handles Diana, studying the scar on her neck—angering Matthew—, then orders everyone but Diana and Matthew out. Hubbard is displeased by the Knights’ presence in London, and by the fact that Diana was not brought to meet him. He knows that Matthew has fed from her and that she’s with child—but not that Matthew is the father. Hubbard insists on Diana—and eventually her child—becoming a member of his flock, but Diana is smarter: she points out that she is the blood-sworn daughter of Phillippe, therefore a de Clermont, and exempt from Hubbard’s rule. She also tells Hubbard that Phillippe would be pleased if he helped her finding a witch to teach her—although Matthew warns her that whomever Hubbard sends will be a spy. At home Walter and Henry are waiting for them having been summoned by Matthew, but he quickly reassures them that his alarm was premature. Diana states that the witches are her matter, and the men should let her handle it—because even though Matthew could order a witch to them, that person would only put up a performance instead of helping. Matthew agrees, but with the caveat is that she can say no lies, have no secrets, and someone will always have to know where she is.

Notes

Matthew tells Diana that she and Mary should distill rose water next time, as it is less dangerous. I’ve distilled rose water. It’s boring.

Matthew notes that Diana is lonely. If we put things into perspective, it is true. She starts out with barely a few people in her corner, barely having any close friends, and ends the trilogy with a whole horde of friends and family.

It’s interesting that Leonard is described as “no more than fifteen,” but in the present day, he can still pass as a cab driver.

I wanna know more about the different vampire sects around the world.

I’d be also interested in how the London covens and Father Hubbards “flock” coexist.

Knowing what we know, that Hubbard is actually Matthew’s grandson, will surely complicate things. But does this also mean that, technically, after forming his scion, Matthew technically rules over all of the creatures in London?

In 1485, the Knights of Lazarus sided with Richard III against Henry Tudor, apparently.

Hubbard saying that Diana is “breeding” is absolutely repulsive.

It’s interesting that Hubbard is threatening with telling on Matthew and Diana for her giving him her blood, but at the same time, he is taking the blood of witches.

Religion once again creates an interesting conundrum here: Phillippe presupposed that Diana was a pagan, and treated her such, implying that witches, regardless of the time period, are generally pagans. But here Hubbard either presupposes that she is Christian, and therefor fearful of God, or he just doesn’t care, and out of hubris thinks that if he is fearful of God, then everyone else is.

Favorite quotes

“You left my house covered with the sweet scent of bread and honey, and the Countess of Pembroke returns you to me smelling like a pickle.” Matthew’s nose went to the patch of skin behind my ear. He gave a satisfied sigh. “I knew I could find some place the vinegar hadn’t reached.”

[Diana telling Matthew about the experiment they were working on with Mary.] “We almost caught it, too. But then something went wrong and the flask exploded. It was fantastic!” “I’m glad you don’t work in my lab. Generally speaking, explosions are to be avoided when working with nitric acid.”

“We’ve never been certain if you were a brave man or a fool, de Clermont, but I think this might decide the question—and not in your favor.”

“I trust my wife’s judgement,” Matthew said firmly. “That’s what Phillippe says about Granny,” Gallowglass muttered under his breath. “Just before all hell breaks loose.”

[clenvs3000]

My Valentine - Treating Nature as a Loved One

     When given the opportunity to freely write about anything on my mind this week, I found a wide array of topics rushing to mind. Struggling to find something worth discussing, this week proved to be a dauting and challenging prompt as I wanted my blog post to be meaningful and elicit critical thinking as it relates to nature interpretation. And yet I found myself having writers block with no prompt provided. So, rather than presenting an in-depth opinion piece on course content, I thought it would be refreshing to shine some light on the way I currently see the world around me and how interpreting your surroundings can be beneficial to your well-being. My hope is that this gets you to become more engaged with your relationship to nature while subsequently developing some of your creative and free-thinking skills.

Image 1 - Hope

     I am currently writing this post on Valentines day. A day that signifies and cherishes love, companionship, and relationships. With this in mind, it seems fitting to discuss how one shares a profound relationship with nature, much like they would with a loved one. However, as we all know, there are ups, and there are downs to every relationship. In a world that is currently littered with COVID restrictions and guidelines put in place to mandate “stay at home” regulations, there may seem little to look forward to. Going outside now almost has this associated fear related to it where the two go hand in hand. As opposed to being able to just go outside and enjoy your surroundings, people are limiting the amount of their exposure to nature. While social distancing is by far the best practice to getting back to a more normalized way of life, distancing yourself from nature is a sure-fire way to living an unhappy life.

Image 2 - Nature Beauty

     The way I currently view the world and nature is the same way I would view a loved one if they were sick. This may sound like a misinterpreted statement, however, allow me to explain. If you had a loved one who was ill and needed assistance what would you do? I’m willing to bet the majority of people would have a moral compass that dictates priorities. You would hold the needs of that loved one above all else and you wouldn’t abandon them. Whether that’s running errands for them, cleaning up after them, or just being there for them, the principle of the matter is that you care.

Image 3 - Care

     It is with this that I would like to recommend people truly take the time to reflect and interpret their relationship with nature. Don’t shy away from getting outside on your own and soaking in the beauty that nature provides. Furthermore, we only have one earth and much like that loved one, we have an obligation to take care of it. So, next time you’re out for a hike or a walk and stumble on some garbage, do the right thing and take care of the thing you live. I know it’s been a tough year for everyone, so I would love to leave on a positive note. In the comments below, feel free to talk about some of your most profound memories with nature or even how you might view the world around you today.

Images:

Image 1 - https://hopegrows.net/news/why-is-hope-so-important

Image 2 - https://www.countryliving.com/life/entertainment/g18924890/nature-quotes/

Image 3 - https://hollandbloorview.ca/services/family-workshops-resources/online-resource/care-caregiver

[safestsephiroth]

#3: Muster - Jacobin Accambray (FFXIVWrite2020)

More information on FFXIVWrite can be found here: https://sea-wolf-coast-to-coast.tumblr.com/tagged/ffxivwrite2020+prompt+list

-

Jacobin Accambray smoothed out his jacket, made a last-minute adjustment to his tie and stepped into the interview room. Before him, a panel of three - a committee appointed to evaluate whether his current operations were worth continued funding.

He stood, arms at his side, standing before them. The room was prim and proper by all standards. A single chair sat across from the long desk the trio peered down at him from across. Of course their seats were elevated above his. Internally, his eyes rolled. Outwardly he kept a calm face. He had far too much practice with this sort.

"So, Mister Accambray." The one in the center cleared his throat. "Please, call me Professor Couture. I will be overseeing this little evaluation, today. My companions here are observers. Pretend they don't exist, for the purposes of the meeting."

"Of course," Jacobin said. "A pleasure, Professor Couture."

"Please, take a seat."

Jacobin walked with a professional's pace. Not a movement wasted as he slipped into the chair, swiftly sitting stiff as a board.

"Now, Mister Accambray, my understanding is you've been investing quite a bit of your time and energy into this 'Blue Magic' project of yours."

"You are correct." He looked directly at the man. An elezen decades his superior. The same as it always seemed to be. "However, I would not even go so far as to say it has been one-quarter of my efforts."

"Well, I suppose wasting one-quarter of your time is better than your youngest brother is known to do."

Ah. It would be like that, then.

"Regardless, Mister Accambray, I am here to get the answers the Committee needs so that we may evaluate if you are worth retaining as staff. This is, of course, not reflective of your performance so far. Simply a routine we repeat with everyone of your particular... circumstances." The professor had a way of drawing out words and overstaying his welcome.

Presumably a tactic to throw interviewees off balance. To put pressure on. He'd had plenty of time to refine it, it seemed. Or perhaps he was a moron and simply loved the sound of his own voice.

"I am more than happy to answer any questions you have that I am at liberty to speak on."

"Good. I'll be honest, I care much less about this 'Blue Magic' distraction you involve yourself in than I care about you fulfilling your obligations. How have you gone about doing so?"

Jacobin raised one gloved hand before his mouth, clearing his throat. "Since my initial assignment, I have successfully seen fifteen graduates-to-be into programs appropriate to their talents. I believe the committee will find, if the records are checked, that all fifteen are either still on their assignment or performed spectacularly well. This is as much proof as any that I am more than fit to carry out my duties and exceed the standards placed upon my position."

"How bizarre that an Accambray is so forthcoming and talkative. I think that's more than I've heard your father speak in two decades."

Jacobin sat in silence, shoving down every witticism that rose within him.

"I suppose it doesn't matter, Mister Accambray, who your family are. In any regard. Could you explain your recent placement of one Weishara Virden?"

"Miss Virden has been assigned to a project which I am not at liberty to speak about, as per the terms of a contract I have already signed."

Couturue's brow raised. "With... an authority higher than this committee."

"Yes." Jacobin nodded. "You may raise the matter with Mrs. Marie Allard. I am not permitted to speak any further on it."

Couture leaned back in his seat. Allard was rarely available as it was - engrossed in some project or another, when she wasn't at the Forum.

"I see." Couture said, finally. "You have been seen socializing with one Ms. Jinba, as well. Why might that be?"

"Ms. Jinba and I were contemporaries in our time at the Academy. We have, since her return, spent some time discussing how things have gone since then."

"And what is your assessment of Ms. Jinba?"

"She is competent," Jacobin asserted. "I have always held the opinion she was destined for greatness, and from the publicly-available summaries of her work, I am pleased to see I was correct. But then, that is my job, is it not?"

"So it is, Mister Accambray. So it is. What is the nature of your fraternization with Miss Jinba?"

"Are my personal life and activities relevant to the scope of this meeting, Professor Couture? I would be happy to recount my daily routine and what sort of shampoo I have been using, as well, if it please, but I was of the impression your time was more valuable than that." Jacobin's jaw set, for a mere moment. He just had to get through this meeting.

"How interesting of you to be so defensive."

"My experiences with Miss Jinba in our personal time are unfit for discussion in serious company. I could elaborate further, if you insist."

"No," Couture said, faster than anything else he'd said all evening. "No, that will not be necessary. Simply wondering if the rumors I had heard had anything to them. I was wondering, simply, if I should be setting aside funding for a wedding gift."

"I do not foresee that being necessary." Jacobin cleared his throat once more, leaning back against the chair. One leg crossing over the other. "Thank you for your concern, Professor."

"Of course." Couture's lips curled into a smile. His eyes carried the cold focus of a predator sighting prey. "And what do your family think of such things, I wonder?"

"You would have to ask them, Professor Couture. I cannot speak for them any more than I can speak for you. I can confirm, however, that I do not expect them to all share the same opinion. There are many Accambrays, and I daresay we tend to be more independent than most families."

"Indeed." Couture steepled his fingers. "Tell me, Mister Accambray, why should we retain you in your current position? I remain unconvinced either way." He was loving this. He knew it. Jacobin knew it. The silent, stone-faced observers knew it.

Jacobin would need to muster every onze of self-control he had. Was Couture fishing for a bribe? He wouldn't get one.

"My track record has been consistent all my life, and I have no reason to suspect the pattern will break. I only improve the longer I commit myself to a task, and I am already performing the best of my department. It would be a baffling act to choose to replace me now."

"Perhaps. It's baffling to invest so much in foolhardy pursuits, as well. Are you, perhaps, trying to chase the success found in researching the finer points of Geomancy?"

"My goals are to advance Sharlayan, to improve our society through my efforts, and to acquire all the knowledge I possibly can for our archives."

"But we do not record information that is irrelevant, Mister Accambray."

"Irrelevance is a point of debate. I am confident which side my work will land."

"I see. Perhaps too confident."

Jacobin sat stock still. Staring at Couture.

"Mister Accambray, I have no further questions. I will pass my assessment on after this meeting. Do you have anything left to add?"

"Professor Couture, it has been a pleasure to have you perform this assessment." Jacobin stood. "I am always glad when I am appointed someone professional, who sticks to the matter and hand and does not feel any need to meander. You may quote me on that."

With that, Jacobin left. It wasn't until he was back in his office, the door safely locked, that he let the tension leave his body. He had failed. Right at the very end, he had failed. Well. There was no sense focusing on it at this point.

If Mikoto hadn't left yet, perhaps she would be good to talk through things with. She was never unpleasant, at the very least. He decided, with a hint of a smile, to call her.