#reenactment advice

[my-darling-boy]

Good morning, I hope you're doing well.

I just wanted to start by saying I deeply admire your work, and have found it beautiful, emotive and inspiring.

From what I know, you do reenactments in the UK and I've been wanting to get into reenactment myself for a looooong time, but I've always chickened out because I'm trans (ftm, pre T/medical transition).

It's super refreshing to find a trans person in this scene. I was wondering if you had any advice? Whether that's how to find safe groups, how to find costumes that fit, how to maybe start projects yourself. Any advice at all would be deeply appreciated.

The ww1/ww2 periods are really close to my heart and I would adore the opportunity to explore reenactments for these periods of history in a safe environment.

All the best,

🪖

Ah that’s awesome you’re interested in getting into reenactment, it’s a really fun hobby! Don’t think I’ve seen any advice posts for world war reenactors specifically in your situation; I think “modern” military reenactment with this in mind comes with special considerations, so I’ll do my best to give a loose Survival Guide below the cut if you’re wanting to start. This will be Long, but I’ve not seen another resource on this sort of thing from the trans angle so might as well be specific! These are just my own observations to hopefully give you a bit more perspective on whether or not it’s something you’re comfortable pursuing. That all being said…

★ In the case of being trans, especially without medical transition, I HIGHLY advise against doing this hobby completely stealth, it’s just not a good idea. For many events, you camp in the same tent/room with lads your age to men 60+ and may have to change in front of them. Even in the event there is space/bathroom to change, it’s sometimes only a single stall crawling with spiders as a lot of re-enactments are in a little village in the middle of nowhere. If it’s not your own group that could cause problems upon circumstantially finding out, it could be another reenactor or member of the public. If you bind or pack, you have to get the things on and off secretly around so many people you don’t know. Some events are in other countries. For a lot of events, there isn’t any cell service so in the off-chance something goes wrong and you have no one to help you…. You’re Cooked.

★ Transparency to some capacity is best. Whether it’s just a couple group members that know or the whole group knows, someone’s support is your greatest safety net. If you find a group you want to trial, I recommend first shooting an email rather than meeting face to face. Ask if they’re looking for new members, if they already are, that you would be interested in a trial. Add that you’re trans and you want to know if this is an issue, there’s really no other way to ask this. It’s complex, but really they’re not allowed to tell you no on grounds of discrimination, however you can gauge how accepting they are by their response. If they’re suddenly not looking for new members or they play email tag over weeks with no clear answer, pass. Being upfront about it if you’re pre-everything will save you wasting time on groups who don’t want to work with you.

★ Research local regiments/groups you want. Searching near your county may mean you won’t have to travel too far for events, but not always. And you don’t have to stay local, I find groups accept members from just about anywhere in the UK, even outside it sometimes! It’s also good to have some research done on the regiment/battalion you want.

★ Next, big, very important: World War re-enactment is a very Actual Military dominated hobby, and you’ll be exposed to all that entails. I say this to give you a heads up as to the social environment you’re entering into which not many trans people may consider. There’s no way to engage with this area of group reenactment that is completely divorced from the genus of the military as it exists today, even for historical education. The groups I’ve met as well as my own are comprised mostly of veterans, people currently serving, or those from military/first-responder families. In my own observation, world war groups feel more like off-shoot capillaries of the military as opposed to doing something like medieval reenactment or a Jacobite. They are run, funded, and supported in full or part by current/ex military members and organisations. Now obviously it’s not the real military, you’re not enlisted, you’re not going to get court-martialed if you do something wrong! However, these groups try to hold themselves to the same professionalism that you would get if you were actually in the forces cos you’re portraying someone in the military—albeit 1916–who would’ve held themselves to the same standards. There’s fun, there’s jokes, but you stand up so straight on inspection that it’s uncomfortable, eyes front, you never fool around with a weapon, you do what you’re told, and you try to help out every member as best you can cos you’re a unit. It’s a balance between being serious and fun. I know I’m silly outside it, but once I’m on site, it’s time for more discretion. You’re first and foremost an educational historical actor, and as such you’re required to conduct yourself in the public eye as a service member—someone’s ancestor—representing a real regiment that more than likely still exists. This is not a Ren Faire environment. A reenactment group does not exist in a vacuum and neither do the world wars. Not every group is as connected with the Real military as others, but this is just a Heads Up in case interacting with these entities contributes to making you feel “unsafe” in your position.

★ There is also that complicated grey area of how even the most progressive group still exists within a network of current systems which are traditional and affects the way that group must present itself to the public and their Real Military Counterparts they are inseparable from. World war reenacting is still deeply intertwined with current forces and old tradition because the wars and their decades are still within collective consciousness and still hot topics of discussion. Some people really take issue with trans people in the hobby, we all know this, so even as supportive as a group may be, many choose for safety to be on the DL when engaging with other hobbyists whom you don’t know (outside of your group). I personally don’t know any other trans men active in WW groups, though I know they’re out there. That alone should give you an idea as to how Quiet we keep it for safety, even if, bless them, our cis group mates would gladly tell someone off for being transphobic. Though having to be on the DL to anyone outside your group at events for someone who is pre-everything can be anxiety inducing. It’s why I say it’s for your own benefit that at least someone in your group 100% has your back.

★ Lads love teasing each other and will tease you, with love, but don’t be the doormat for anything transphobic. As is the case with the real military, jokes/teasing is an integral part of the camaraderie and as I said, lots of people doing WW reenacting are current/ex military. Short jokes @ me are common, they’re made with love, it’s not transphobic or malicious. While someone messing with you is common cis male bonding, don’t hesitate to tell someone steady on if they go over the line or they’re genuinely being malicious before you go to the sergeant with a formal complaint. It’s usually an immediate apology and then never doing it again. And as said, don’t let transphobic teasing slide. If there is any phobic joke that could fly under the radar to someone not privy, it would be jokes equating you with someone called “Bob” so if you ever hear that one—if you don’t already know what that means—definitely bring that up to someone!

★ A tip for cis male dominated spaces: self-confidence, optimism, and a general good nature will get you far. Being extremely, constantly awkward or aloof from dysphoria or fearing cis men will tend to get you “othered”. It can be hard to be more vocal or confident if you’re anxious not having had many dealings with cis male social groups, but my advice is to try to be as casual as possible, shaking hands with eye contact, going about your business, and Being Normal about guys walking around half naked in the mornings or accidentally catching sight of your mate’s bits. Generally, if you’re not Weird about them, no one’s Weird about you!

★ It’s also a mutual respect-based environment. As long as you’re mature, level, putting in the effort, are quick to learn, friendly, and doing your bit in the group, chances are you will get along with everyone fine and they will get along with you regardless of anyone’s politics or beliefs, which I think is most trans people’s fear for this hobby. Everyone is aware infighting and heated debates over anything can destroy a group or bring harm against yourself or your mates, which is why I’ve found if you simply say you don’t feel comfortable talking about something, people back off cos they respect that. Trans or not, if you’re abrasive or egotistical, just like any social situation, respect for you goes down.

★ People are more than happy to impart knowledge, there are lads who could easily talk for hours about one thing if you get them going so don’t be afraid to ask questions! If you’re nervous about asking someone for help with drill, kit, etc it’s less “How do you not know this?” and more “I’m SO glad you asked!” It’s sort of like having a group of brothers for the weekend, always teaching you something. I find reenactors can never pass up an opportunity to thoroughly explain something (myself included) and sometimes even unprompted will just point to something you’ve got and start telling a story about it. Everyone, even elder members, learn something new every event

★ In terms of clothing sizing, I’ve got stereotypical male proportions (bar my height) so I can’t speak much from personal struggle on this one. Most modern-made reenactment gear is quite amply sized, which is fine if you’re larger but is a pain if you’re smaller. Most groups will have spare kit in diff sizes you can borrow on trialling them, and there are good videos on YouTube to familiarise yourself with all the parts and how to care for them, and of course you can ask me here as well. If you want something yourself, everyone and their mums starts out with Soldier of Fortune these days, and owning your own trousers/tunic of course means you can tailor it if need be. You’re also looking at around at least £600 for a relatively complete kit, but tbh it’s easily over £1000 weapons and extras included.

★ On clothing, maybe it’s cos I’m short, but your grey flannel is your best friend if you have to get changed in front of someone and don’t want them to see your Downstairs. The greybacks are quite long I find, so as long as it’s on, you can change trousers and sometimes even undergarments without flashing anyone.

★ On getting changed: always try to be the first to get ready, it doesn’t look weird, you just look on top of things! Do a bit of recon when you can about changing spaces and the toilet situation cos you might be able to get creative where you change, including in your sleeping bag. It’s good to try to get at least an undershirt and bottom half on before the group wakes up, you easily put on tunic and boots and the rest alongside everyone else. You might even find you just end up sleeping in kit, sometimes we do that. Getting to the toilet first also means you not only avoid being late for inspection trying to sort yourself, but you’re not after the lad with the Least Desirable morning routine (and believe me, there will be at least one, if not more).

★ Though sleeping in the same space and getting ready around each other is usually expected, it’s not mandatory. For some multi-day events, it may be possible to go home and come back the next morning so you don’t have to sleep/change with the rest of the boys. It’s possible to show up to events already kitted and leave kitted so you don’t need to change at all. If you’re all staying in a hotel, you can get a separate room or if everyone is staying at camp, you can stay in a local inn if there is one. If you’re under canvas, you can always bring a separate tent and sleep by yourself. HOWEVER, because sleeping together (and drinking till 3 AM) and getting ready polishing brass or making breakfast is a Group Bonding Experience just be aware you’ll miss out on that bonding if you go off alone a lot or cut events short to go home/come back, if having more bonding is particularly important to you!

★ If you’re binding, it’s worth noting depending on what exactly you’re doing you carry anywhere between 20-50 extra pounds on your person. There is decent physical activity, you are with equipment on your feet for most of the day, and hobnail boots are not the most comfortable. Being in an entirely wool uniform on a baking, humid day in a binder would be absolutely bloody miserable. You would have to take the binder off after all that lest you hurt yourself. Also, if you join a Highland Regiment, it is not a good idea to pack. And I’m not talking about your kit bag. If your Swagger Stick falls out on a demo in front of hundreds of families, there is no coming back from that, there really is no room for Oopsy in that scenario, it’s not worth the embarrassment!

★ As for starting projects yourself… that’s a tricky one. If it’s like a little reenactment group, that’s a massive undertaking, I could write a novel about that alone and the money and insurance and complex social things that would involve. There are ways you can do solo reenactment for educational purposes, though this requires having a relationship with whatever venue is hiring you such as a museum. While doing a scout or medic would be easy enough, doing a fully kitted infantryman would be a bit harder. If you have weapons like a rifle or bayonet, you need a permit to carry them. Solo reenacting also requires you to know A TON of information, not just about the war, but the surrounding time period give or take 20 years, your entire kit, gear, and loads of other things.

★ In conclusion, as intimidating as this can seem to navigate around cis men as a trans man for (potentially) the first time in a very military, traditionally masc environment…. I think as long as you come into it with the same attitude as any young man would at the time, you’ve got pals to back you up, and you try to be cheery and do your bit, you’re likely to do just fine and have fun! I know reenactment can seem like the straight white old male phobic hardcore conservative hobby, but it is a really rewarding experience as long as you take some precautions, there are some genuinely lovely people in it, eager to pass on their knowledge. If you feel a group is not a good fit, you can always leave, and there will be other groups who will be more than happy to have you. While I can’t say I’ve met any trans men in my time doing it, I’ve at least met some other LGB reenactors who are really lovely and very supportive.

Hope something here puts your anxiety at ease, or at least doesn’t make anything worse! If it’s of any comfort, I think groups as a whole are becoming much more supportive of LGBT+ members. I think the coming generations that are starting to have more active involvement in this area of reenactment look to be making it better for LGBT+ people to participate in historical education and overall hobby engagement.

Cheers! x

[plunderherz]

Hey historic clothing tumblr! Does anyone here have experience with cleaning antique clothing? I have two new treasures, a blouse and a dress, both from 1890 & 1900, that have a very specific odour, unlike all my other clothes from the period.

Normally I have no problem wearing them with undergarments anyway, but these two are very...nasty. I don't dare to clean them by hand because the braid and lace are already very fragile. I also have a lot of sewing to do here...so if anyone has any tips on how to get 134-year-old sweat out of the fabric, I'd be grateful for any advice. 🙈

[mycological-mariner]

I’ve never done reenactment in my life. But suddenly my email about wondering if I could help out at all at the next event now includes a tent, what I need to bring in terms of plates, bed, cutlery, etc and I’m just like. I don’t object, but also. I have literally never been camping unless you count sleeping in the boot of a car when I was 11.

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

> make a post about how the mentally ill girls in my group chat rely on each other since we can’t listen to our own advice

> someone brings up the incredibly relevant allegory of the long spoons

> someone posts the Wikipedia article’s picture of 4 guys reenacting the allegory

> my post about me and my mentally ill tgirl friend group starts getting tagged things like “boys will be boys”

[destinygoldenstar]

”How do I write more natural sounding dialogue?”

Here’s a few tips that help me:

“Subtext”. Characters aren’t always going to explicitly explain what exactly their feelings are in a scene. There are other ways you can communicate their emotion, such as describing body language, using adverbs to explain how they’re saying the lines, and other characters asking questions regardless if they answer or not.

”Listen to how real life people talk” Go out in public, talk to friends, tune in on conversations and take mental notes on how people naturally talk.

”Pauses & stuttering aren’t bad” These kinds of things happen in speech all the time and are natural. I heard some advice say to not do these because they make the line less clear. My advice is to not listen to that. Not every character is gonna say everything clearly. Especially if they’re scared, angry, or confused.

And finally, when reviewing a script, you can pretend it’s a play. Reenact the scene yourself. If you say the lines yourself, you can figure out if anything is natural or not. If it doesn’t flow right or sounds wrong saying it yourself, then that’s a sign you should edit that line to make it sound more natural.

[kifkay]

Winx & Specialists Dynamics that are so Precious to me

it makes sense that in the show, winx and their non-boyfriend specialists don’t interact much. but!! i’m very insane about codependent found families, and I want them all to love each other. so here’s my take on some tet-a-tet dynamics:

rare pairings:

Musa & Timmy: childhood frenemies. they used to go to the same middle school on Melody, and as type-A tweens do, had an intense, “you’re the only person I match myself to” kind of rivalry. they lost contact after Timmy moved away, chilled out considerably, reconnected in Alfea and had a wonderful banter-filled friendship since. because of how fast they slotted back into a friendship, some of their classmates genuinely thought they were siblings.

Tecna & Riven: got up from a rough patch. from “I dislike you but we both love Musa, so we have to be civil” to “you have more depths to you than I expected” to “now that I understand you, I can’t help but admire certain things about you” to “bitch, you are the only person who is as weird and clueless as I am, ARE YOU READY TO GO TO THE ARCADE AND ANNIHILATE KIDS FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES”

Flora & Brandon: little sister, older brother vibes. of similar temperaments and views, they enjoy spending time over a cup of tea — talking about everything and nothing. it’s therapeutic, almost.

(no one in the group knew that Brandon and Flo were good friends. once, when the two had to team up during a mission, Bloom couldn’t even finish saying: “it would be a good opportunity for you to get to know each ot-“, before the specialist-fairy duo were re-creating the most complicated and choreographed hand shake ever. jaws were on the floor.)

Aisha & Brandon: they are sporties, and they like doing sport things together! they don’t talk aside from exchanging brief encouragements and advice while out, preferring to spend their time in companionable silence. sorta like those dads who never talk to their buddies, but somehow have the strongest and longest bonds ever?

Helia & Bloom: artist besties. Bloom drags Helia out on picnics, where they practice observational drawing (and tiktok trends that Bloom desperately wants to reenact but none of the winx are good at arts); Helia responds by taking her out to see art museums in Magix. it’s a fun dynamic of Bloom being the bubbly gold retriever, and Helia being her black cat.

Tecna & Sky: they didn’t have much of a relationship until year 4. somehow, they both got really, intensely into weaponsmithing and built a joint workshop. they found that they enjoy working alongside each other and value each other’s insights. sky goes to tecna when he needs frank, un-sugarcoated advice, and tecna accompanies sky on hikes and other spirited adventures, for “bonding activities” (because he told her she doesn’t get out of her comfort zone enough). it’s a relationship of deep mutual respect.

Sky & Stella: childhood friends. they knew each other as children and enjoyed playing together (which is how Stella also knew Brandon pre-Red Fountaine). at least, until Stella was unofficially banned from Eraklyon because shenanigans, and they lost contact. they still jokingly call each other “My Lady” and “My Lord”.

Stella & Nabu. Both are flirty and extroverted people, who enjoy the spirit of showmanship. They have a friendly rivalry going of who can fluster the villain of the week the fastest.

canon bf-gf dynamics (dating in canon, open to interpretation otherwise):

Bloom x Sky: liked each other since the first meeting; bonded over being the friend group moms. (on unrelated note: bloom gentle parents her friends, while sky goes all exasperated cig mom on his team and repeats things like: “you better go to sleep right now, or so help me Dragon I will take away your Owl pilot privileges-“)

they are not the most outwardly affectionate couple of the winx, yet they are so wordlessly devoted to each other. sky will follow bloom to the ends of all dimensions, when she gets a calling from powers as mystical as she. bloom will always believe in him and see him as his own man, unlike the many who see him only as his father’s son. they were entwined by fate, long before one had met the other; yet, there’s the trust, the respect, the faith so strong — that could have only come from friendship forged and tested by fire.

Stella and Brandon: the hottest power couple; sole reason behind 60% of all student fairies/specialists/witches queer awakening.

they banter all. the. goddamn. time. these dorks are speaking a whole different language.

they are also most comfortable in each other’s company, being able to be their genuine, less polished selves. stella and brandon are both performers bred and born, playing the roles of a noble princess and a knight. it’s nice, to have a safe reprieve from all that acting.

Aisha and Nabu. their love was one that sneaked up on them. their distance, set by a discomfort at the idea of an arranged marriage, bridged as they transitioned from being reluctant comrades to friendly rivals to unwilling friends to best friends to “if someday the moon calls you by your name, don’t be surprised — because every night I tell her about you”

Tecna and Timmy: partners in crime, ride or die, sunny faith in each other — even when the other person doesn’t believe in themself. I have a whole post about them, go read that ;)

Flora and Helia: they are so. they are. they-

icons. the most romantic couple, the one that sets the standards, the one that gives their friends advice. they are extremely attentive to each other’s needs and tender with each other’s feelings.

flora can recite helia’s poems in her sleep, and trace his drawings with her eyes closed. helia brings mielle presents every time he stops by. flora has tea with helia’s dad every other tuesday; she keeps note of every time helia and saladin are supposed to meet up, to be able to whisk helia away after and distract him from his troubles. helia knows how to care of flora’s plants, and sends her lovingly assorted gift baskets semi-regularly.

Musa and Riven. their relationship is push and pull, is joy then sorrow.

it’s all in a drag of a cigarette, in the vortex of a starless night, in the hoarse laughter. “of all the people in the world, why did it have to be you?” she’ll say and smile.

“ I’m afraid we’re doomed, lover,” he’ll reply, faux-casually, and smile back. both of them will know it’s the truth.

their relationship was not built to last, not for the lack of love or try. maybe they were too similar — both headstrong, unbending, bleeding hearts. maybe they were just different enough not to understand their hurts. nevertheless, it was not built to last — but neither of them would ever bring to regret it. love prevails, no matter in what form in comes, or something like that.

[rachetmath]

Seduction Strategy

Yang: Jaune, I need your help.

Jaune: With what?

Yang: You see a friend of mines was having trouble pleasing his partner last time. She wasn't-

Jaune: He or she?

Yang: Pardon?

Jaune: Like is this person a he or she? Is their partner a girl or boy? I mean you and this person are two different people so-

Yang: Okay. I-I need help. I need another way to please Blake in bed. I've tried everything but nothing works.

Jaune: Why me though? I’m not in a relationship.

Yang: Come on, what about your sisters’ advice?

Jaune: Have they ever worked though?

Yang: Okay, yeah, j-just guess. I’ll take anything.

Jaune: I mean what are Blake's interest.

Yang: Well. She likes fish. And reading books. And that's it.

Jaune: Okay does she have a favorite book?

Yang: Well, she does, and it is called “Ninja of Love.”

Jaune: So read the book and find some way to focus that into sex.

Yang: Hm. Really?

Jaune: I mean, “Ninja of Love”, doesn’t that scream sex?

Yang: ….

Afterwards Yang read the book and put her plan into motion. Blake was heading to their room to figure out what Yang wanted after she texted her. She walked inside and;

Blake: Yang. What did you- *gasp*

Blake was in shock. She saw her girlfriend was wearing a very sexy ninja outfit. Her hair was in a ponytail. She was wearing black but the skirt was short. And her top was tight, revealing her breast. Yang smiles as she saw her girlfriend blushing at her and decided to make a move. She walked towards the bed, swaying her hips as she slowly laid down, giving Blake a lot of the details.

Yang: Hi Blake. Care to learn the ways of the ninja.

Blake: Yang. Why are you-?

Yang: Oh. Sorry. I should probably mention I read one of your favorite books and I was wondering… would you like to reenact a few scenes with me?

Blake gave Yang her answer as she strips down naked. Afterwards Yang and Blake were going at each other for weeks. Then when Ren asked on how she did it, she replied to ask Jaune. Ren was confused at first but she said “Trust him.” Ren then goes to Jaune for advice.

Ren: Jaune. Yang told me how you helped her. Can you help me with Nora?

Jaune: Ren. Come on, you know me, I am not qualified to help with your relationship problems.

Ren: I mean so far you have been able to help everybody with their issues by talking to them and listening. How is this different?

Jaune: Look man., figure that out yourself.

Ren: Jaune, please?

Jaune: Fine. Um. Just wear an apron that states "Baked With Love" and say "I have a new pancake recipe for you to try." I guess.

Ren: Hm. Alright I’ll try.*leaves*

Jaune: Don’t blame me if it doesn’t work.

Later that night.

Nora: Ren. What do ne-e-eed… Oh my

Nora was stunted for words. She was looking at Ren completely naked with just an apron as she stared at his butt. Ren turned around revealing “Baked With Love” imprinted on the apron and said the words exactly as Jaune told him.

Ren: Hi Nora. Sorry to have called you so late. But, I made a new pancake I need you to try.

Nora: R-really? So where are the pancakes?

Ren: Oh don’t worry. *pulls up his apron* I have a special one made just for you.

Nora saw what Ren was doing and she liked it. Afterwards Nora was blowing Ren like no tomorrow. Both Ren and Yang were enjoying the results of Jaune’s guesses. However one thing they never accounted for is Oscar listening in on them. Oscar wanted the same result so he can finally score with Ruby, so he asked Jaune for help. However;

Oscar: Jaune, help me score with Ruby.

Jaune: Nope.

Oscar: Please?

Jaune: No!

Oscar: Please.

Jaune: No!!

Oscar: PLEASE!!

Jaune: NO!!!!

Oscar: Why not?!?

Jaune: First, Yang will kill me! Second, you’re too young, so I don’t know why you’re thinking about this, after everything you’ve been through. Third, Yang will kill me!

Oscar: I'll tell Winter you almost got Weiss killed.

Jaune: You little bastard, you wouldn’t.

Oscar: I would. And she could kill you faster than Yang can.

Jaune: Damn, you right. Fine. Um… go to the store. Buy some whip cream and gum drops. Get naked. And make yourself look like a gingerbread man.

Oscar: What? Why?

Jaune: Ruby loves cookies. And you almost look like a cookie.

Oscar: Jaune that isn’t going to w- oh yes!

Oscar was feeling the up most pleasure as Ruby was bouncing up and down from his pine tree in her team bedroom.

Ruby: Yes. Harder. Harder!! Make me your wife, Gingerbread Man!

Oscar: Yes ma’am.

Afterwards, Jaune, finally thinking he’s done, was relaxing. That was until Cinder Fall appeared out of nowhere. She was very angry too.

Cinder: Seriously?

Jaune: What?

Cinder: I mean, come on, you can help everyone get laid but not yourself. Pathetic.

Jaune: Okay. What’s your point? Why is this your business? Also how did you get in this house?

Cinder: Okay?! Look Arc, I'll show you pity for today. If you can get me to sleep then you get me as your reward. No attempts on your life at all.

Jaune: What if I say no?

Cinder: Why would you?

Jaune: I mean Pyrrha was better looking than you. So is Winter. And Penny.

Cinder: I am very capable.

Jaune: Really?

Cinder: Must I-

Cinder stops and thinks for a minute. Jaune knows she loves to prove how better she is than everyone else around her. She thought for a moment and realized Jaune was toying with her emotions and pride. She smiled, giving him some credit but a failed attempt was still a failed attempt.

Cinder: Ah. You almost had me. Try again.

Jaune: Okay. Hand please.

Cinder: Why?

Jaune: Give me your hand and find out.

Cinder grabs his hand. Jaune uses his semblance to amplify her powers. Cinder felt a surge of power flow in her body as her maiden power suddenly activated. She then stares at Jaune, with smug look on his face.

Cinder: Wha- what did you-?

Jaune: Liked that huh?

Cinder: Um… no.

Jaune pulls Cinder close where her back is towards his chest.

Jaune: You know Cinder, instead of having to track down maidens to gain power. How about I let you take a bit of mines?

Cinder: Um… well you see- Ah~.

Cinder can feel Jaune’s sword rubbing on her butt as she blushes. Jaune continues to smile as he sees her so flustered. To Jaune, Cinder look so cute. However, he wonders why she so was easily tempted. He thought about it and came to the conclusion that;

Jaune: Oh. Cinder Fall, is this your-

Cinder: S-shut up!

Jaune laugh sand gently places his hand on Cinder’s face, turning her towards his own. Cinder was amazed by the glow of his eyes. She was enjoying this. She could feel his power coursing to her veins. She want more so bad she was close to kissing him however-

Cinder: No. You fool. We can’t. We’re enemies.

Jaune: So what? I mean we don’t have to love each other to make a fire. So, are you going to make the first move and express your dominance? Or am I going to show you how strong I really am?

Cinder giggles and turns towards him with her chest to his.

Cinder: Is that a challenge?

Jaune: If that’s how you want it to be.

Cinder: Then don’t hold back.

Jaune: Same.

Jaune and Cinder, without hesitation, kissed and spent a whole night in a ‘hatred’. Cinder was screaming in pleasure as Jaune brutally ‘stabs’ her.

Cinder: I am so glad I killed Pyrrha! ~

[sforzesco]

Do you have any good resources/references/advice for drawing (late republican) Roman clothing? I want to draw a couple of historical figures but thinking about drawing a toga makes me feel like 😖😖😖...

-Costumes of the Greeks and Romans, Thomas Hope

-Greek and Roman Fashions, Tom Tierney

-The World of Roman Costume, ed. Judith Lynn Sebesta and Larissa Bonfante.

-Decorative Symbols and motifs for Artists and Craftsmen/Decorative Patterns of the Ancient World, Dover Publications

-photos & videos from reenactors and reenactment events

-build a screenshot reference library from movies and shows that have costume designs you like, that kind of thing. grab a blanket and wrap yourself up in it toga style and take a photo if you need a specific angle. etc. museums usually have a lot of their galleries online, and places like the met often shoot statues from multiple sides.

[the-merry-otter]

Sometimes I see people tagging my posts with stuff like “I wish I could do reenactment/join the SCA” and I have to fight the urge to pop into their inbox unsolicited going “YOU CAN MAKE THIS HAPPEN, DO YOU WANT HELP?”

Because I always feel like the iffy stranger in a long coat sidling up to a kid in an alley … “hey kid, you want a hobby?” xD

HOWEVER if anyone wants to start reenactment but you have Questions, please feel free to reach out to me!! I can’t always give you the best *local* advice, but I’m more than willing to talk you through clothing, activities, how to find and contact a group, what to expect, and all the other scary stuff about joining a group.

Plus, some of my favourite things to talk about is reenactment and the SCA - you’ll be doing me a favour i promise 😝

[manicrouge]

TASK FORCE: STALKER

Chapter One: Last Woman On Earth

(Keegan x F!Reader)

Word count: 8.5k

About: After an operation in which the Alpha Team has been instructed to distract the Federation troops goes wrong, Alpha 4 finds herself stranded in Caracas, Venezuela. U.S. The city floods and while seeking refuge, she runs into one of the members of Task Force: Stalker. 

TWs: Canon-typical violence, drowning, brief mention of religion, gore, blood, violence, mayhaps some typos here and there too

Note: This story follow the campaign of Cod: Ghosts. If you would like to be added to the tag list, leave a comment :D

‘Alpha team offloads here as discussed.’ 

A voice ringed in your headset as the helicopter slowly lowered. Staring past the head of one of the Bravo team, you spied the shrubbery of the Forest bending around the spinning propellors of the helicopter, raising to your feet as the door slowly opened. Holding your rifle close to you, you offered a short nod to every man you passed on your way out. 

Your boots hit the dirt, a stick snapping beneath your foot. The nerves you felt during your first deployment were lost to the world as soon as the stench of gun powder graced your nostrils. There’s no time to be nervous, you thought back to the words your father spoke while telling stories of his time in battle. He’d hold your dolls, speak with gruff voices as he reenacted stories you had begged to hear. Pulling up the arm of Cinderella, he’d state firmly,  you’re in the deep end now, soldier. To which, in your youth, you’d giggle and clap your hands to. Those words were akin to a Bible verse to you, something you repeated in your head, even when your squad leader was barking orders. It was an essential mission, you’d been briefed more times than you cared to consider which only ever meant one thing: do not fuck this up. 

‘Keep up, yeah?’ a voice said from beside you. 

You turned your head, spying Parker. A man who was in his late twenties, a tad bit older than you were. You'd often referred to him as your older brother, the others in your squad typically addressing the pair of you as siblings.

‘You should listen to your own advice,’ you retorted with a grin.

You set off on foot. Parker walked alongside you as the pair of you walked just behind the rest of the squad. In total, you counted ten men, then yourself and Parker. The noise of chatter was close. You were in the enemy land for sure, listening to the contempt in their voices, you felt adrenaline wash over you as you bent your knees, slowly stalking with the rest of your squad. 

‘Razor-1, all Alpha deployed. Moving to secondary HLZ.’ 

The sputtering of the choppers propellers left you staring in the air, peering through the trees as you watched as the black mass rose into the air, heading further into the District. Your eyes followed the helicopter as you headed further into the greenery, your eyes head not daring to dip. Something in you was aching at the sight of it growing further. The only sound, aside from the distant calls of the enemy, were the short breaths of the soldiers around you, alongside the creeping footsteps as you edge closer and closer. 

‘All Stations — Razor-1 is bracketed. We’re getting hit!’

You looked up, and the cries of the enemy just before you grow louder. And still, you persisted. You weren’t the one under fire, so why would you stop? You watch in the day time sky, witnessing the grey smoke billowing from the missiles fired, heading right for the helicopter, and still, you persist on your operation. 

‘Shit, that was a close one,’ Parker laughed to the right of you. 

Your eyes are still stuck on the helicopter, your lungs aching as you refused to breathe. Another missile was sent into the sky. The radio was muddled, however, the system managed to pick up a disgruntled string of curses before the announcement came. 

‘Razor-1— w- we’re going down!’ 

The sky was then painted with oranges and reds as a whirring filled the emptiness of nature. The helicopter expelled bouts of black smoke as it twisted and turned, falling out of the sky like a dead bird. It dropped graceless, unable to keep itself from its doom. 

‘Hold up,’ said your lieutenant, holding his hand up. 

You stopped, as did the rest of the men surrounding you. A shaky breath escaped you as the crash rumbled the ground you stood on, fire engulfing the wreckage while you stood, the breeze blowing through your hair. A part of you was selfishly thankful that your name had been absent from their list; their fate was far from appealing — and at that point, you didn’t even know if they were dead.

‘Bravo, how copy?’ your lieutenant whispered as you crouched behind him, stray sticks and rocks digging into your knees. You and Parker shared a look as the radio remained silent. ‘Bravo, what’s your status…?’ 

‘Alpha — Bravo compromised. Multiple wounded!’ 

Your grip on your gun tightened. 

‘We’re taking effective fire!’ 

‘Bravo, we’re advancing on the first camp, hold tight,’ called you lieutenant, briefly looking over his shoulder, before pressing onwards.

No one questioned his authority, and even though you couldn’t quite get the image of the helicopter falling out of your mind (the flames of which had seared into you retinas), when you hit the camp the first thing you did is bring your sight to your eye, marking the head of an enemy immediately. He was much too busy to see you, and when your lieutenant fired the first shot, you wasted no time in pulling your own trigger. 

Blood sprayed against the front of the tent the man was standing in front of, his limp body falling into the green canvas. It barely held his weight as his brains poured from the exit would at the back of his head, filling the dip like a swell of rain water would have. It took a few moments for the men standing beside him to react, as they simply stood and blinked at the carnage you had brought with the squeeze of a trigger. Screams exited the mouths of the troops, and you watched as they whipped their heads from side to side in an attempt to find where the bullets were coming from. Waving their guns in the air, you maintained your calmness in the midst of the calamity, not daring to break, even when you and one of the men standing beside the corpse locked eyes. 

From that moment, bullets reigned down hell and you intended to walk out alive. 

Advancing on the war zone was always done with caution and you did so gradually, shooting with key precision. Any missed shot was disregarded in the blink of an eye; you could recover steadily with as little as a hitch in your breath. You continued alongside a handful of your team, whilst the read of them went to the right hand side. The burning of fuel filled your nose, and when you peaked from behind the truck you were crouched behind, you caught sight of a thick cloud of smoke travelling upwards into the sky. 

‘Adams, Jones, flank left,’ demanded your lieutenant, before turning to you, ‘missy, you’re with me. We kill and we get to the Bravo team,’ he stated firmly.

‘Yes sir,’ you nodded, following behind him. You kept your scope upwards in the search for anyone who may have had him in their sights. In the matter of seconds you had advanced, sitting before a crate of ammunition. You watched as he pulled out his magazine, checking his ammo, before snapping it back into his gun. Maintaining a stark look on his face, he sucked on his bottom lip, looking at you. 

‘You got enough?’ 

‘Yeah,’ you hummed, ‘have you?’ 

He chuckled, ‘of course I do, ‘haven’t missed a shot.’ 

You narrowed your eyes at his remark.

Whilst subtle, you were quite sure it was intended to be a jab. However, whatever offence you had quickly shattered when a hand snaked around the corner of the ammunition.

In the blink of an eye, the smug expression on the man’s face quickly fell as chunks of his brains and skull exploded, covering you.

The sound of the gunshot left your ears ringing, a spray of your superiors blood covering your face. A gargled gasp escaped your throat, and you blinked rapidly in an attempt to rid the redness from your eyes. The man fell limp on the ground beside you, the barrel of the gun that had just killed him now aimed at you. You looked death in the eye, snatching your gun and squeezing the trigger as you scrambled to get out of the way of the bullet. 

You landed on your back, the man you’d shot at falling to the ground. A dull ache radiated in your shoulder and you hissed, lifting a shaking hand to assess the damage. Your gloved fingers sank into a bullet wound and you let out a shattered huff.

This entire thing seemed like an ambush — none of the planning made sense in the slightest.

It was a death trap, you swore so under your breath as you pushed yourself up off of your back, a strained grunt escaping you as you did so. It was a pain unlike anything you had felt, and still, it was the least of your concern in that moment. Peaking around the box, you gulped at the sight of your dead superior, using your hand to wipe his blood off of your face. Behind were the feet was a Fed soldier, squirming where he laid, holding his stomach as he screamed out bloody murder.

Maintaining your cover, you pushed up keeping a tight hold on your gun as leaned over him, grabbing the pistol he had shot you with, attaching it to your belt before pressing the barrel of your gun against his chest, lifting your throbbing arm up to the radio attached to your chest. 

‘This is Alpha 4, Lieutenant Williams is KIA.’ 

The shakiness of your tone was embarrassing and when you let go of your radio, you winced as you waited for a response. There were more gunshots, more screaming, yet the radio was silent. 

‘Does anybody copy?’ you asked, looking around, pressing your back against the ammunition station. 

‘It’s a fuckin’ blood bath!’ A voice exclaimed, ‘A- Alpha 2, and 6 are KIA.’ 

‘Parker?’ you asked. 

‘We gotta retreat,’ firmly said the man, ‘fall back to the landing zone and call med evac. We can’t fight all of these, we’re down a full team and three of our own.’ 

Everything in you was insisting on listening to the man; that ultimately seemed like the right call and you supposed you couldn’t exactly turn to your lieutenant for answers. However, when you peaked once again and spied to the crash site, something inside you urged you to persevere. There were people who were injured and as you looked downwards, you swallowed the last of your cowardice and shook your head.

‘No,’ you said through your radio, ‘people are hurt — I’m not going to leave them.’ 

‘Are you fuckin’ stupid?’ he asked, ‘fall back. You will die.’ 

You plotted a bath before yourself. You could rush into the tree line and use the trunks as cover, sneak around the outside of the camp and just a little further to where the helicopter had went down. With the noise from behind you, you were more than sure you could make a break for it; there would be a brief intermission in the fighting and you could slip away without alerting a single soul; for all they knew you had been shot alongside your lieutenant.

‘No, I’m not leaving without trying,’ you said, letting go of the radio. 

Grabbing the dead man’s shoulder, you turned him so he was on his back, taking hold of the dog tag around his neck and yanking it. It snapped off and you shoved it in your pocket before turning your full attention to the tree line.

With your gun in hand, you took one last breath before pushing forward, scurrying away from the position. There were more yells, and had they caught onto the fact that you were rushing away, you were unsure. No bullets were fired in your direction, and you remained crouched, even when you made it back into the shrubbery. 

Smoke continued to float up into the sky, and with your gun close to your chest, you pushed on with your heartbeat ringing in your ears. A voice rattled through your radio, one you recognised to be Parker, however, you disregarded his scolding as you turned it off fully, not daring to compromise yourself. Gunshots from the main camp continued as you creeped further and further to the crash site, stopping just behind a tree trunk when you heard the crackle of flames and the creaking of metal. There was a weeping, followed by a few stray gunshots, but aside from that, the yelling was distant. 

Advancing upwards, you approached the helicopter, finding the entirety of the back to be missing, creating an opening which allowed you to rush into. ‘Bravo team, how copy?’ you called, looking around the wreckage. 

‘Well ain’t you a sight for sore fuckin’ eyes,’ a voice called, and when you lifted your head, you spied a man with his back up against the wall. ‘Where’s the rest of Alpha?’ 

‘Three KIA including Williams,’ you said, rushing up to the mans side, ‘you?’ 

‘All KIA from what I know,’ he said, using the butt of his gun to push himself up off the ground, ‘one wounded if you’re countin’ me.’ 

‘Alpha 7 called for us to fall back — call med evac to get us out of here; the entire things been a fucking shit show.’ 

‘I’ll say,’ said the man, ‘you get hit?’ 

‘Only my shoulder,’ you uttered, ‘I’ll live… can you walk?’ 

‘Just about,’ he hummed, watching as you approached him, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. He leaned on you, however, you noted he was careful with ho much weight he put on you, as the pair of you hobbled to the entrance. It was quite the awkward journey counting that he was a few inches taller than you, luckily for him however, you never feigned in the face of a challenge. ‘Where’d he say he’s callin’ med evac?’ 

‘Original landing site.’ 

‘They won’t make it there,’ he said, ‘they know we’re here now, they’ll shoot that helo down just like the shot our one.’

Grabbing your radio, you tuned back into the channel. ‘Alpha 7, this is Alpha 4. All apart from one in Bravo have been KIA. How do you copy?’ 

‘Med evac is on the way, report back to the original landing site,’ Parker said, ‘we’ll recon here and then go further to get the fuck outta here.’ 

You turned to the man beside you. ’You think you’re gonna be able to make it there?’ 

‘Do I have a fuckin’ choice?’ he asked with a chuckle, ‘you’re basically askin’ if I wanna live or die, love.’

You rolled your eyes at his words. ‘We’ll keep to the outskirts of the camp. How much ammo you got?’ 

‘I’m low, about nine or ten more.’ 

‘Fuck,’ you sighed, ‘we’ll just have to keep a low profile.’ 

He hummed, ‘by the sounds of things they’re distracted enough for us to get around them.’ 

‘I hope so.’ 

Each step was agonising, and with the weight of the man on your shoulder, you found your arm was beginning to ache. At that point, the bullet wound in your shoulder had its own pulse and it was throbbing with a ferocious anger, leaving your eyes watering as the pair of you kept low and out of the way of the camp. Despite the burning in ever inch of your body, you refused to submit to the will of the enemy, and with each shout, you bowed your head further in the hopes to keep in the cover of the bushes around you. The man beside you was trying his best to keep quiet, gritting his teeth to stifle every single grunt that passed his lips. With an uneven ground, there was the occasional stumble which would result in the pair of you cursing under your breaths. 

‘Shit, sorry miss,’ grumbled the man, digging his blunt nails into the black sleeve of your shirt.

Biting back a hiss, you gulped back a curse. ‘I- It’s fine,’ you struggled out through gritted teeth in spite of the fact that you felt as though you were two steps away from collapsing. The wound in your arm was leaking, the blood pouring out of it soaking into your torn shit. It was sure to be a bitch when it eventually came to the removal of the bullet. Despite your doubts, gun fire was prolonged behind the pair of you, and the further you moved through enemy territory the more you found hope that more of your squad would make it out alive. 

‘Alpha 4?’ 

‘Parker?’ 

‘I got bad news,’ murmured the man through the radio, ‘radioed med evac and they said they can’t drop here; people know we’re here according to what’s been relayed to the team. If we want to evacuate, we have to push on into the city; apparently a task force is out there looking to assassinate General Almargo — we’ll get out with them.’ 

You paled at the news and both you and your new friend stopped in your tracks. 

‘Are you fuckin’ serious?’ 

‘Unfortunately,’ sighed the man, ‘it’s just me… no one else made it.’ 

‘Fuck,’ cursed the man beside you, looking at you, ‘miss, I can’t make it into the city with my fuckin’ leg, we’re five miles out.’ 

You gulped. ‘I have one of Bravo’s members, his leg is fucked—’

‘We meet up, rob a car and get the fuck out of here and meet up with the soldiers in the city. I’ll be in the roadside just North of the camp; there’s a road that will take us directly into the city.’ 

You kept your mouth shut in spite of your objections. ‘Okay,’ you said, ‘we’ll walk to the road but keep just in the clearing to make sure we’re not spotted.’ 

‘Roger that.’ 

The channel fell silent and you turned to the limping man beside you. ‘It’s the best we can do… I’m sorry.’ 

He sucked in a breath as though he was accepting something. ‘Not your fault, miss,’ he uttered, stumbling. The pair of you wobbled as a result of his misstep, a particularly loud crunch sounding. A strained whimper left his mouth as he fell forward, pulling you along with him. You attempted to catch your fall, turning to your side in the hopes of avoiding landing on your right shoulder. In spite of such, when you hit the ground, a pang of pain which caused goosebumps to form flooded the entirety of your body. Forcing your lips together, you rolled onto your back, immediately holding your arm, a trembling hand hovering over the wound. 

‘Fuck,’ you hissed, the world spinning momentarily. 

Much to you dismay, your fall was not as silent as you had hoped it to be as a whistle confirmed that the men who were hunting you almost heard it. Your pity party was brief as you pushed yourself off of the ground, staring down at the man who nursed his leg. It was only then that you truly assessed the damage done. His bone protruded from his skin, droplets of his blood leaking onto the dirt below the pair of you. 

‘We’ve gotta go,’ you willed, leaning over to grab hold of his wrist, ‘they know we’re here.’ 

‘I’m not going anywhere miss,’ he said through a groan, ‘I can’t walk in this.’ 

‘You can lean on me,’ you whispered, tugging on his arm all for him to raise his hand, prying your hand off him. ‘Come on.’ 

‘No,’ he huffed, dropping his hand to grab his dog tag from around his neck, pulling it off and holding his chain out to you, ‘take this and run.’ 

‘We can—’

‘No,’ he refuted harshly, lifting his head up as footsteps edged closer, ‘take this and get the fuck out of here.’ Pressing your lips together, you looked the man in the eyes. ‘You tried your hardest, but you can’t save everyone,’ he said, shaking the chain in his hand, ‘now take it and get out of here… for the both of us, yeah?’ 

With a sigh, you snatched his dog tag off of him, wasting little time as you swooped down, retrieving your gun from off of the ground. Your aching knees were thankful for the increase of pace and you didn’t care to look back at the certain slaughter of the man who had essentially given up his life for yours. Rather than tightening your hold on him, which you much rather would have, your hands clasped tightly around his chain as you proceeded North, uncaring for anything that might have stopped you in your tracks.

The entire thing was a disaster, so, when you eventually came across Parker hidden near the roadside, you couldn’t quite believe your luck. He’d grabbed your ankle as you were staggering, pulling you into him. Before you could yell out, he hushed you, his paw-like hand covering your mouth. 

‘Chill, it’s just me,’ he whispered. 

Despite knowing you were in safe hands, you drove your elbow into his stomach. His hold on you released immediately as he keeled over with a straight moan. 

‘Asshole,’ you exhaled breathlessly, turning to look at him, ‘you get hit?’ 

‘Not until this point,’ he struggled out, ‘you?’ 

‘Shoulder,’ you said, looking down at your arm, ‘hurts like fuck.’ 

‘I can imagine,’ he hummed, ‘where’s your friend?’ 

‘Didn’t make it,’ you said, your hands hovering over the pocket where you had safely tucked his dog tag away. ‘He had a broken leg, he gave up.’ 

‘Fuck,’ he cursed, ‘that entire thing was a shit show,’ he grumbled, ‘they said it would be easy… there were more than we were told.’ 

‘Tricks of the trade,’ you said, ‘how far are we from the city?’ 

‘Twenty five minutes,’ he said, ‘this road leads to the national park, but if we follow it south we’ll get to the city.’ 

‘Okay,’ you hummed, ‘any traffic in this area?’ 

‘Haven’t seen a car pass me and I’ve been here around twenty minutes — but best to keep out of the way, yeah?’ he asked, ‘how are you for ammo?’ 

‘Still got some.’ 

‘Good,’ he hummed, ‘c’mon, they’ll be gaining on us if we stay here for too long.’ 

The pair of you set off with a fierce hunger, not wanting to be captured by the enemy. Shifting to the other side of the road, you traversed through the dry forest, your hands shaking. Your eyes ached and your head throbbed as the pain in your shoulder worsened. Whilst anyone else would be fleeing from the city and turning around when they caught the sounds of gunshots, you found humour in the fact that the pair of you were charging into battle head on. Parker walked alongside you keeping an eager eye out, his gun poised and prepared to shoot. 

‘I can’t fuckin’ believe this,’ he huffed, ‘I got no fuckin’ intel — didn’t even know we were going in there to just die. Did you know about the other task force?’ 

‘No,’ you answered, ‘we were there to kill and find evidence; that’s what they told us at least.’ 

‘Yeah fuckin’ right,’ snorted the man, ‘more like sent us in there to die.’ 

You bowed your head, your face creasing. The dried blood of your lieutenant was sticky. ‘At least we’re still here,’ you mumbled. 

Parker chuckled, ‘of course we’re still here,’ he said, looking at you, ‘you really think we’d die like that? No; we know what we’re doing. When this task force sees us, they’re gonna be jumpin’ for fucking joy.’ 

You laughed at his enthusiasm. ‘Sure they are.’ 

‘They’ll sign the pair of us and we won’t have to deal with any of this bullshit.’ 

‘Or they’ll kill us on sight.’ 

‘I’d like to see them try,’ he snorted, ‘we’re gonna get there, help them execute that son of a bitch, and then ride out of here on a helicopter.’

‘Into the sunset?’ 

‘You bet,’ he hummed, ‘have a cocktail in hand too.’ 

Even though the pair of you were on the verge of a brutal death, you still had to quiet your laughter at his words. The images of what had happened moments prior were still very much present, and yet, you laughed. It was a strange feeling, for your head to be set alight with horrific images and to still be able to laugh about something ridiculous. Were you even still human for doing so? That, you were unsure of, although, you supposed morality meant nothing in this line of work.

After everything, the pair of you walked together as though you were two school friends walking home. With each step a second passed and you were conscious that the world still proceeded spinning, even though the hearts of many had stopped beating. It was a vindictive cycle — cruel, how everyone simply continued even when a life ended. You supposed, however, that you couldn’t address nature as a monster when you kept putting one foot in front of the other; you were just as bad as her. 

The city appeared on the horizon after what felt like an eternity, not helped by the dry humour of Parker. Much to your surprise, it seemed too easy to have found your way into the city and you raised your brows upwards as the pair of you rested against a wall of a house with shattered windows. It appeared to be a grounds keepers home, only, it was empty and the windows had been shattered. Inside, you spied graffiti across the breast of the living room wall, staining the yellow wallpaper. It was a shame to see such a quaint home in ruin. 

‘Alpha 7 to Home base. Myself and Alpha 4 have made it to the city, looking for exfil; both the rest of Alpha and Bravo are KIA.’ 

You stared at your feet, awaiting a response. ‘Alpha 7, this is home base. Task force Stalker are in the central area, exfil will be near the dam.’ 

‘Roger that,’ Parker said, allowing his hand to drop, ‘we should’ve robbed some of the uniforms from the dead troops; we’re gonna stick out.’ 

‘It’s either we get killed by them or our own men — which is worse?’ 

‘Both are bad,’ he said, ‘from where we are, we fifteen out from the dam,’ he said, pausing for a moment as gunshots echoed in the distance, ‘we’re probably going to walk into a battle.’ 

‘What’s one more?’ you asked, ‘we’re closer to getting home, that’s all that matters.’ 

He nodded his head at your words, ‘keep an eye out. If we see a guard, kill them quietly.’ 

You smiled. ‘Roger that.’ 

Without a word, the pair of you head through the city, ensuring to keep in the shadows in spite of every street the pair of you passed appearing to be that of a ghost town. War had most definitely destroyed the inners of the city; there was rubble in the streets and what were once family homes were shells of their former selves. It was a shame they met such a fate, an undeserved one and thankless all at the hands of corruption. You wondered if the families who lived there made it out alive or if they were forced into the military… or worse.

It was difficult to track the gunfire as with each street you walked past, the sound seemed to travel all the same. For all you knew, the pair of you could have been on the cusp on the battlefield and would have been none the wiser to it.

Either way, you were prepared.

You’d made it that far, you were not going to dare to fold at this point. You could hear yelling from the enemy, resonating off of the houses just like the gunfire did. 

‘You have any idea what they’re saying?’ you asked. 

‘Something about the dam,’ replied Parker. 

‘That’s where the task for is, right?’ 

‘Apparently so,’ he said, ‘whatever it is, it sounds like they’re panicking.’ 

You pursed your lips. ‘Maybe our guys are winning.’ 

The screeching of tires caught your attention and when a car whirled past the pair of you, Parker grabbed you by the forearm and pulled you into an alleyway. Only, there was no way the men in the car couldn’t have seen you, and yet, they didn’t stop. Instead, the sped away as though they were in a police chase, not caring for anything in their surroundings.

Your chest tightened when another car followed suit, and then another, and then another. The stench of burning rubber filled the streets and you watched each car speed past you. Something was not quite right and when you turned to face Parker, you found he felt the same. 

Opening your mouth, you went to question the strange behaviour all for the ground to rumble below the pair of you. Furrowing your brows, you held the wall behind you to steady yourself, all for another rumble to shake the ground again. What sounded like an explosion sounded, however, when you turned your eyes towards the sky, you found it was clear. 

‘What the fuck was that?’ you asked. 

‘It sounded like a bomb went off,’ he remarked, the pair of you moving away from the alleyway. ‘C’mon, we’ve gotta make it to the dam.’ 

Nodding your head, the pair of you cut through the alleyway, onto the main street. It was then you saw it. Very rarely were you surprised, the blood on the face was enough to prove that shock had very little effect on you. However, your burning legs were glued to the spot as your eyes widened at the sight before you.

A wave that must have been three stories was barely a mile out and it was charging with a vengeance with the intention of dragging you down for the life you took that day. A shaky sigh escaped you, and when you turned to Parker, you found the same horror on his face. Turning to look at the house behind you, you cursed under your breath finding that the apartments across the street would be much more suited; the buildings were taller. 

‘Parker, we gotta go,’ you said breathlessly, grabbing his wrist and pulling up. He awoke from his trance, breaking into a sprint. 

You chased after him, your hold on his wrist slipping as he marched forward. Your body was set alight, the last reserves of adrenaline you had within you powering you to make it to the door of the apartment block just as the water came crashing in. Parker was already half way up a flight of stairs, leaving you wading through waist high water which was only growing deeper and deeper. 

‘Parker!’ you yelled, holding your arms out to the side of yourself in an attempt to maintain balance. The current beneath the surface was reckless, pulling you side to side as you battled. No way in hell would you be able to swim your way out of this — especially not with a busted shoulder.

Gritting your teeth, you lunged forward, grabbing onto the bannister of the staircase, letting out a mangled cry as you pulled yourself upwards. Your right arm felt as though it was going to fall off, and the more pressure you put on yourself, the deeper the bullet lodged in your arm dug. A flash of hot pain seared as you continued to use the banister to keep yourself from sinking into the water.  

‘PARKER!’ You screamed, in the hopes of catching the mans attention. 

Your heart was thumping in your ears, your eyes were burning as the water grew higher and higher. Swallowing hard, you fought with all your might to break through the persistent current. It soaked your wound, pooling just above your chin. The sudden flush strained the muscles in your arm, your grip slipping. The building creaked and your arm was pulled behind your back. Blinded by your fury, you opened your mouth to scream the mans name once more, all for it to be a gargle as your hold on the bannister slipped completely and you were pulled into the water. 

The water was murky, hiding all enemies within it. 

You were subjected to travel with the current, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open in spite of how bad the stung. Looking around with each passing metre of water, you searched desperately for something to latch onto, waving your arms like a madman. You broke the water once or twice, gasping for air. Your lungs were flooded and you spluttered before being sucked back under. Your choking continued under water, being damned to a watery grave. Your head grew lighter and your lungs ached. 

This was it. This was how you were going to die. All because of a coward. 

Your vision began to darken, the void yearning for you to fall into her arms. Only your troubles were quelled when you spied a hand in the water. Without a single thought, you reached out to snatch it, choking out under water in agony as you were nearly pulled with the water. However, the hand on you turned into two and you were pulled up and out of the water.

The building you were pulled into was full of water too, only, it was still.

You took a few seconds to choke up the water you had swallowed, unable to thank your saviour — hell, for all you knew, it could have been the enemy. Wiping your eyes with your wet sleeve, you snivelled, lifting your head to see a man adorned in a green gear staring at you. He was masked in spite of the risk it posed to the water. A sniper sat on his back and he reached his hand out to take hold of your arm. You let him, wiping the snot on your upper lip with your gloved hand, blinking away the water. 

‘You American?’ he asked with a gruff tone, observing the patch on your arm. 

You nodded quickly, unable to think of the correct words. ‘Alpha 4,’ you rasped. ‘O- Our team was ambushed… helicopter went down.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I got away,’ you confirmed, clearing your throat, ‘called for exfil a- and they told us to meet a task force here.’ 

‘Stalker?’ 

‘Yes,’ you nodded. He gave you a nod. ‘Are you with them?’ 

‘Yeah,’ he answered, keeping hold of your arm. ‘You the only survivor?’ 

‘I was with someone else,’ you said, ‘but he left me for dead. We got caught in the flood and he rushed ahead of me… I got swept under. I couldn’t keep hold of anything because of my shoulder.’ 

His eyes fell down, spotting the bloody bullet hole in your shoulder. 

‘He one of your squad mates?’ 

‘Yes,’ you confirmed. 

He shook his head. ‘You got a weapon?’ 

Patting the holster on your thigh, you took hold of the handle of the knife. Pulling it out of the water, you showed it to him. 

‘Good,’ he said, ‘you’re with me.’ 

‘O- Okay,’ you said, ‘where’s the rest of your squad?’ 

‘Watched them run into a warehouse,’ he said, ‘follow me and keep low,’ he instructed, moving through the water without another word. 

Following after him, you held the knife in your hand tightly. You were trembling so much you feared it would slip out of your hold, and then you really thought you might have been fucked. You supposed almost dying would do that, but the betrayal of the man you had thought to be a brother felt worse. It was a dull jab in your spleen and your head throbbed as your face grew hot at the thought. 

What a fucking coward.

‘What the fuck happened?’ you asked the stranger in front of you. 

‘Set off two missiles and blew the dam open.’ 

‘Why would they do that?’ you choked out, their action seeming senseless. 

‘Scorched earth.’ 

‘Oh,’ you mumbled. Your nose continued to run as you wiped away streams of snot. ‘Thank you,’ you blurted out. The man in front of you stopped, looking over his shoulder, appearing what you could only interpret as confused. ‘You could have left me to drown.’ 

He nodded in your direction, it was curt and reeked of professionalism. He turned his back to you again, moving further through the building, expecting you to follow after him — and you did. His quietness was peculiar, unlike the sorts you had seen, especially after living with such a rowdy squad for so many years. The contrast was as sharp as a dagger, and you almost felt offended by his dryness.

Opening his mouth for a ‘you’re welcome’ surely wouldn’t have killed him. Still, you didn’t know him and your grievances fell flat on their face. You couldn’t insult the man who had just saved your life, no. You’d save that anger for the man who left you to die. 

You traversed through the building, eyes darting, surveying each and every corner. 

‘To any calls signs on this frequency, please respond. This is Ghost Two-Two.’ 

The man in front of you stopped, pressing his fingers into his earpiece. ‘Clear, Merrick.’ 

‘Keegan?’ said the voice on the other end, ‘you have sights on Elias or Rorke?’ 

‘Negative.’ 

‘Shit,’ huffed the man, ‘we lost ‘em in the water… we’re heading towards the hotel to recon.’ 

‘Roger,’ said the man, ‘I’ll be on the look out for Rorke and Elias. On my way.’

‘Heard,’ said the man before the line fell dead. 

Keegan continued on without a word and you followed after him. He lurked like a shadow as the pair of you came to a set of shattered window. Pushing himself upwards, he hung over the edge, before pushing himself off of it, landing on a bus which had gotten lodged in the middle of the street, acting like a bridge to the other building.

You’d expected him to continue on without you as you pulled yourself out of the water with a wince, hanging off of the ledge. Using your feet, you pressed them against the concrete, propelling your jump. You fell freely for two seconds before landing a top the bus. It creaked with the pair of you standing upon it, urging the pair of you to continue onwards. You took the warning without a question, following after the man. 

Unlike when you followed your squad, you felt like a lost puppy following after the first person who had leant down to pet it. It was demeaning, patronising. But you didn’t change your demeanour, too conscious of upsetting the man who had saved your life. However, there was one burning question that caused your legs to move faster in order to catch up to him. 

‘What is your squad doing here?’ you asked, jumping back into waist-high water as the pair of you entered another building. You landed with a huff, lifting your arms slightly to keep them out of the water. ‘We weren’t informed of there being anyone else… that’s why I’m asking.’ 

He looked you up and down as though you were one of them. Thinking for a second longer, his shoulders raised slightly as his tilted his head to the side. ‘We’re here to neutralise General Almagro,’ he responded, ‘and that’s still the plan.’

His discomfort in confessing such was potent and you had believed that he would have much rather kept it to himself. It seemed as though he thought telling you was a compromise — a breach, despite knowing you and him were fighting the same battle. Granted, even if the pair of you did escape, you were quite sure you wouldn’t be able to look any one in the eye and recount the terrors that had happened in such a short span of time. 

You wondered if you still had blood on your face. 

Navigating the flooding buildings with him was oddly peaceful, contrasting the crashing waves and sirens blurring on the streets. Instead, you waded through the murky water, keeping your mind clear of what else could have been lurking in there with you. Goosebumps ran rampant on your flesh, and your bottom lip trembled as your teeth clattered. Despite the beaming sun outside, the water was ice cold, subzero even. It did, however, work to soothe your burning limbs. 

You travelled building to building, cautious when it came to crossing over to another one. Luckily the cars in the street worked well to be a good enough bridge to ensure your safety. Anyone else would have convinced the gun fire would have been quelled after such a catastrophe, but it raged on, seemingly with more of a vengeance. Not that you were naive enough to believe that an operation would have been abandoned, of course not. Your mind seemed to be escaping you, you concluded, conjuring thoughts you’d typically roll your eyes at. 

It was when you made it one of the last buildings in your pursuit that you stilled, the gun fire being much louder than any you had heard over the passing minutes. Keegan turned to you, motioning towards a set of stairs which, supposedly led to the roof of the building. Reaching in his belt, he retrieved a pistol, holding it out to you. 

‘You need that,’ you said, pushing his hand away whilst shaking his head. ‘I’m fine.’ 

He didn’t speak, rather taking hold of your wrist, forcing the pistol into your hand, leaving you with no time to give it back to you as he turned his back to you, stalking up to the stairs. 

The next few minutes play out in your hands.

The typical battle you have part-took in during your time in the military, only, you had more time (than you would have liked) to watch the man who had been so insistent of you taking his pistol. He moved like the men’s shadows, quiet, slick — it was so impressive that you had only managed to take down one of the men when there had been four; he dealt with the rest, using their own guns against them.

When their bodies were floating in the water, he let out a short breath from behind the mask, turning to look at you as you approached him. It was a wordless token of his appreciation, you supposed, not knowing fully what his look meant. His recovery time from battle was seamless and the pair of you carried on as though nothing had happened. 

‘Merrick, hold your fire, we’re approaching your six,’ Keegan called as the pair of you moved down from atop a building into the remnants of one that had originally been stationed beside it.

Below the pair of you as you climbed was a group of men wearing similar uniforms to the one Keegan was wearing. The tightness in your chest eased ever so slightly upon the sight of the group as, while you had seen Keegan in action and had your own capabilities, there was something about being surrounded by more soldiers which made you feel at home.

‘Happy you could make it,’ an unfamiliar voice called over the radio, ‘thought your luck had finally ran out.’

A man with a black cap approached the pair of you, holding out his hand to you while Keegan jumped down back into the water. While you furrowed your brows at his advanced, you opted to be polite and placed your hand in his, allowing him to help you down. He did so with ease, looking you up and down. His confusion was evident. ‘Who’s your friend?’ he asked, letting go of your hand to hold his gun again. 

‘Her team was ambushed,’ Keegan answered, ‘the groups sent to distract.'

‘Ah,’ breathed the man, ‘you the only one to survive?’ 

‘There was another,’ you responded, trying to swallow down your anger. What the fuck did he mean by distract? ‘Left me for dead to save his own ass.’ 

‘That’s the problem with people in those squads,’ said the man standing in front of you, ‘they never protect their own. But you don’t have to worry about that happening while you’re with us,’ he said, looking around at his group, pride swelling in his chest, ‘does she?’ 

There was a collective ‘negative’ that sounded from all the men standing around you, and you felt your lips twitch, yet bit back your smile. 

A crash alerted all of you as a pile up of cars formed on the street, building a makeshift path to the parking lot across from you akin to the path you and Keegan had taken whilst traversing the wasteland of a city. Water spills up and over the metal, however, it seems to keep steady despite the creaking of the vehicles. 

‘We gotta get across,’ said the man in the black cap. 

Turning to him, a bearded man furrowed his brows. ‘Any ideas?’ 

The man in front of you glanced to the pile up, nodding. ‘Yeah. Follow me!’ 

He pushed first, climbing over the disintegrating wall and jumping onto the side of the car that had gotten caught. You watched as he moved effortlessly, and one by one, the group followed after him. You waited patiently, not wanting to overstep, and when it was only you and Keegan left, you waited for him to move.

However, he didn’t, instead motioning for you to cross over. You did as you were told, your eyes trained on your feet to ensure you did not end up in the treacherous waters again. Keegan was quick behind you, and when you made it to the other side, you allowed yourself to breathe, not noticing you’d been holding your breath. 

Taking cover behind one of the cars, you caught sight of more men in the water before the group, holding the pistol you had been gifted in your hands.

No words are shared as you work on clearing out more enemies, the further you push giving you ample opportunity to tuck the pistol into your waistband as you take one of the dead men’s guns. Pulling the magazine out, you glance into it, ensuring there is more than one shot. You were pleased to see only a few shots had been fired, pushing it back into the gun. You spied dry land in the distance, and the two soldiers who were shooting were dropped quickly. The whirling of propellors was the thing which sparked conversation. 

‘Helo Inbound!’

‘They’re picking up Almagro. We gotta move!’ declared the man with the black cap. 

‘We gotta get through that building!’ 

As though sent into overdrive, the gun fire and rounds shot increased and their determination left your own heart raging. The prospect that you were fighting with one of the best teams dawned upon you and you felt inspired. The day had started so terribly, yet, you made it out alive and you were fighting with a Task Force. How twisted the universe could be — to take so much but still give so much more. 

It almost made the betrayal you suffered hurt a little less. 

‘Elias, Merrick, you’re with me!’ stated the man, ‘Ajax, Keegan, miss! Cover our six!’ 

You promptly nod, although slightly soured. He couldn’t have been blamed, however; neither of you had had the time to share formalities. You pushed up two flights of stairs, being met with a metal door. Both the (who you assume to be their leader) and the bearded man crouch either side of the double doors. 

‘Elias, the door!’ 

The man standing before the pair of them, charged the door and force it open, meanwhile, you, Keegan, and Ajax watch on. When the door is pulled open, a helicopter is right there. Without a second thought, the three men charge it.

The three of you approached their position, keeping your eye trained on the surrounding area to ensure no stray bullets could compromise the objective. You stood idle with your finger on the trigger, all for the sight of a helicopter propelling downwards to catch your attention. Gunshots echoed from the inners of it, as it near enough squealed as it nose-dived downwards. You watched in horror — three men were in that helo, and there was physically nothing anyone could do to help them aside from watch as they met the doom. 

A crash erupted, as it dipped from out of view and you stared wide eyed, looking at the two men standing beside you. Ajax shared your horror, rushing to the edge of the roof, peering over the edge. Meanwhile, Keegan kept his eye out for any possible threat. Following Ajax, you peered over the edge to see that the helicopter had crashed on a balcony below the roof, most of it dangling off of the side. It creaks as a fire rages. 

‘Is there anything we can do?’ you asked. 

‘Negative,’ Ajax said, shaking his head, ‘to go after them would be a death sentence — they didn’t fall far either. I doubt any of them are seriously injured.’ 

You pursed your lips, unsure whether or not his speculation was the truth. The helicopter began to shift, falling forward. Swallowing hard, your throat tightened at the sound of half of the helicopter falling into the water with a splash. 

‘Everyone good?’ a voice called from inside. 

You caught the relief on Ajax’s face. 

There was a mumbled voice, you didn’t quite catch what was said before there was another splash in the water below. 

‘Shit! Rorke! Somebody, grab him! The whole thing’s shifting!’ 

There was a grunt and the crunch of metal. 

‘It’s breaking apart! We gotta move, now!’ 

The remaining part of the helicopter began to teeter on the edge it was sitting on. The weight of the day you had crashed down on you, the adrenaline that had powered you and kept your mind away from the bullet in your shoulder wearing off in the blink of an eye. Your entire body was on fire and you were stuck in a state of peril. Too many people had died that day, and you were going to be forced to witness three more die too. 

‘We’re too heavy! You gotta let him go!’ 

The creaking continued before you heard a shrill yell, ‘ELIAS!’ 

You spotted a body falling into the water, the man condemned to his untimely death as a row of ladders kept him trapped. His yelling was quelled when he his the rushing stream, and just as the rest of the helo followed suit, you watched as two men climbed out, throwing themselves on the ground. The heaved out breaths, Elias forcing himself up off of the ground, peering over the ledge. You couldn’t see his face, but he was trembling. 

Behind him, Merrick grunted, looking up to the three of you on the ledge. 

‘Amalgro’s dead,’ he said breathlessly, pressing his fingers into his ear piece, ‘threat neutralised. Rorke’s MIA. Calling for exfil.’ 

Chapter Two

[lovenpeace-pkmn]

Doctors in Unova are required to report suspected abuse--is this the same in Kalos? If so, taking her to a doctor for humans and explaining the situation may be a valid next step. If her injuries are obvious then they should be willing to hear you out.

How to keep the younger sister of your wife safe? Internet! Please!

[callmekenya]

Mal

Practicing spells and experimenting with new magic.

Exploring the Forbidden Forest at night.

Attending Auradon Prep’s Halloween events.

Painting murals around Auradon.

Sneaking out to the Isle of the Lost for old times’ sake.

Designing and customizing battle outfits together.

Stargazing from the top of Auradon Castle.

Sharing secrets and life stories.

Engaging in friendly sparring matches.

Planning pranks on unsuspecting students.

Baking enchanted treats in the kitchen.

Watching classic villain movies.

Attending royal balls and events together.

Discussing future plans for Auradon.

Going on scavenger hunts in hidden parts of the castle.

Helping Mal with her royal duties and responsibilities.

Drawing and sketching each other’s portraits.

Singing duets in private.

Practicing self-defense techniques.

Watching the sunrise after a long night of adventure.

Evie

Designing and sewing outfits in her fashion studio.

Attending fashion shows in Auradon.

Having spa days with homemade facials.

Decorating the dorm room together.

Taking long walks through Auradon’s gardens.

Hosting tea parties for close friends.

Practicing different hairstyles on each other.

Doing makeovers for friends at Auradon Prep.

Creating DIY beauty products.

Baking cupcakes and decorating them creatively.

Shopping for the latest fashion trends.

Watching fashion-related movies and shows.

Planning and throwing themed parties.

Visiting Evie’s 4 Hearts boutique on the Isle.

Helping Evie with her royal responsibilities.

Going on treasure hunts around Auradon.

Sharing stories about their mothers’ legacies.

Having deep conversations about their futures.

Volunteering for charity events in Auradon.

Taking photography trips to capture Auradon’s beauty.

Jay

Playing competitive sports, especially Tourney.

Sneaking out for midnight adventures.

Organizing and participating in Auradon’s obstacle courses.

Exploring the Isle of the Lost together.

Attending and cheering for Auradon Prep’s games.

Practicing martial arts and combat training.

Pulling off harmless pranks on Carlos and others.

Hiking in the mountains around Auradon.

Riding motorcycles and going on road trips.

Competing in various physical challenges.

Playing video games in the dorm.

Setting up campfires and telling stories.

Training with swords and other weapons.

Engaging in treasure hunts on the Isle.

Visiting Jay’s favorite places in Auradon.

Attending Auradon’s sports tournaments.

Working out and staying in shape together.

Helping Jay with his duties as the future Sultan.

Repairing and customizing vehicles.

Watching action movies and reenacting the scenes.

Carlos

Inventing and testing new gadgets.

Going on adventures with Dude.

Playing video games and having friendly competitions.

Attending tech fairs and conventions.

Setting up movie marathons with friends.

Building and racing go-karts.

Visiting the Isle and fixing up old tech.

Creating DIY projects together.

Playing with and training Dude in new tricks.

Watching classic villain movies.

Sneaking into restricted areas for exploration.

Attending Auradon’s science fairs.

Riding hoverboards around campus.

Working on robotics projects.

Attending Carlos’s Tourney matches.

Visiting the Auradon tech lab.

Discussing theories about their parents’ legacies.

Setting up treasure hunts with tech clues.

Taking part in Auradon’s talent shows.

Going on dates with Carlos and helping with advice.

Uma

Planning and leading missions on the Isle.

Sailing together on the Lost Revenge.

Cooking and preparing seafood dishes.

Exploring hidden parts of the Isle.

Practicing pirate combat skills.

Planning elaborate heists and treasure hunts.

Singing sea shanties together.

Having secret meetings in Uma’s cabin.

Helping Uma with her leadership duties.

Organizing raids against rival pirate crews.

Engaging in sword fights and combat training.

Discussing strategies to take down enemies.

Hosting pirate parties on the ship.

Decorating Uma’s quarters with stolen treasures.

Going on secret night swims around the Isle.

Plotting ways to challenge Auradon’s authority.

Helping Uma recruit new crew members.

Discussing their shared disdain for Mal.

Listening to the ocean’s waves together.

Exploring the sea caves near the Isle.

Harry

Practicing sword fights on the Lost Revenge.

Playing pranks on fellow pirates.

Sailing the high seas and discovering new territories.

Engaging in pirate-themed games and challenges.

Sharing stories of past adventures.

Creating new pirate songs and shanties.

Attending pirate feasts and parties.

Decorating Harry’s quarters with stolen goods.

Engaging in intense training sessions.

Helping Harry with his loyalty to Uma.

Going on treasure hunts around the Isle.

Spending time at the docks watching the ships.

Exploring secret passages on the ship.

Plotting ways to challenge Auradon’s rule.

Attending secret pirate meetings.

Sharing a flask of rum (non-alcoholic for the sake of Auradon Prep’s rules).

Practicing stealth and sneaking into Auradon.

Discussing their mutual distrust of Mal.

Helping Harry maintain his signature look.

Protecting each other from rival pirate crews.

Ben

Attending royal events and functions together.

Exploring the vast gardens of Auradon Castle.

Planning and hosting charitable events.

Discussing plans for the future of Auradon.

Going on diplomatic missions to other kingdoms.

Attending Auradon Prep’s football games.

Practicing speeches and royal duties.

Taking long horseback rides through the kingdom.

Engaging in political debates and discussions.

Helping Ben with his kingly responsibilities.

Going on secret getaways to relax.

Volunteering for community service projects.

Attending music and cultural festivals.

Hosting movie nights at the castle.

Preparing for royal balls and events.

Playing chess and other strategy games.

Exploring ancient ruins around Auradon.

Discussing ways to unite Auradon and the Isle.

Practicing ballroom dancing for formal events.

Going on boat rides around the kingdom.

Audrey

Attending and planning Auradon’s royal balls.

Practicing ballet and other forms of dance.

Hosting and attending tea parties with the royals.

Shopping for the latest fashion trends.

Designing and planning new ball gowns.

Going on spa days and pampering sessions.

Practicing etiquette and royal protocols.

Hosting sleepovers with the royals.

Singing duets and practicing for royal performances.

Going on royal tours around Auradon.

Visiting art galleries and museums.

Discussing the history of Auradon’s royalty.

Attending fashion shows and events.

Preparing for royal banquets and feasts.

Exploring the royal archives and library.

Hosting charity events and fundraisers.

Practicing archery and other royal sports.

Attending outdoor picnics in Auradon’s gardens.

Going on shopping sprees in the kingdom.

Watching classic Disney princess movies together.

[silly-sirenz]

could you do some Chaggie headcanons general daily stuff

Thank you for asking! 🖤

Of course!! I love these two.

Charlie × Vaggie Headcanons

● Charlie is a morning person, but that's only because of the 8 alarms Vaggie sets.

● They take turns to make each other breakfast.

● Vaggie sees Charlie as a bit of a style icon. When they first met she definitely took inspiration from Charlie to fit in in Hell.

● Vaggie's bow was a gift from Charlie, it's her favourite article of clothing.

●They'll often watch films together. Vaggie points out any inaccuracies, and Charlie listens dotingly.

● Charlie shows a lot of affection through acts of service and physical touch. She'll hum a tune for Vaggie whilst massaging her shoulders at the end of a long day.

●She has also made Vaggie several playlists on Hell's equivalent of Spotify.

● Vaggie is more about quality time, often being Charlie's emotional rock when things go south. She'll offer advice and generally be by her side. Vaggie knows how horrible it is to feel alone. She never wants Charlie to feel the same way that she did in Heaven.

●Vaggie often organises small suprise dates for Charlie. Some of their previous dates have included picnics on the rooftop, taking Charlie to a jazz bar and doing dramatic reenactments of Charlie's favourite books together.

● When they go to bed, Charlie is the big spoon. She is a very physically affectionate person, which usually Vaggie is not fond of. However, she enjoys being held when she's held by Charlie.

[shradsmanifestt]

hi, im sorry for bothering u right now. ive been asking around for advice everywhere because i really need all the help i could use right now. my anxiety is flaring up like crazy because my results come out tomorrow and im so scared because if i mess this up then my future is ruined. my mental health has been horrible and that has severely affected my grades but in most asian countries they dgaf about that and basically think it's nonexistant for minors so ofc i'm still undiagnosed, and if i were to apply to a uni i wouldnt get any good chances anywhere. if i could just get 3 Bs in my AS levels it would be okay or else i'd have to retake it and it's super costly here.. i don't wanna put my family through that because they'll talk me down, degrade me, destroy my self esteem which i've managed to build back a little. they were like this since when i was the topper and thats what made me burnout. undiagnosed adhd, trauma, depression also contributed to it

im applying the law, but instead of the feeling of success that everyone else gets i feel panicked. the 'feeling' people usually get when they're in the wish fulfilled state, the feeling of accepting it and it being real—im not getting that. i dont see a clear picture when i visualize. every time i try to, i end up breaking down and feeling like a failure... but I'm still trying to go on because why is it that the people who hurt me and practically ruined my life get to live successfully, while i suffer? thats not fair... i promised myself that if i could just get 3 Bs, ill turn my life around and work really hard... but is it over for me? i want to win, im trying to, but im scared

im trying my best to visualize myself getting 3 Bs, reenacting my friends faces when i get the results, praying to God and thanking Him for blessing me and continuing to bless me, but there is this fear still lingering at the back of my mind... i feel like I'm not doing it right. i have like one day left and I'm so nervous. im going over posts, tweets, and every time I feel a little better, it all comes crashing down because of doubts. theres only one thing one my mind right now: 'how am I gonna turn it around in one day?' i know that the 3D does not matter and that everything is done in imagination, but here i feel like its not done in imagination either

right now nothings clicking in my head, whatever i read is getting scrambled in my mind, i feel so lost and empty. could u please tell me what to do in this specific situation? u can be as harsh as you want if that's what's needed to get the point across. im really sorry for the bother and id be really grateful if u could please help out, ive never been this desperate before... my life cant be over before it even started

Hey love,

I get you, I really do but trust me when I say this.

THIS SHIT IS REAL AF. Manifestation is real af. It's as real as the fact that you are a human being. All you have to do is trust yourself that it is already done. If good results is what you want then that is exactly what you'll get. You need to choose to stop having doubts because it is already done. That is the simplest answer I can give you. Persist on what you want.

I am glad to tell you this but I just got test results for a major exam held in my uni today and I got into the 95th percentile just by saying to myself that my super power is aptitude tests and that I already scored great. In my friends group only 3 of us were eligible and I have 70+ more marks then them as well. If I can do it, you can do it. You need to stop doubting yourself. Atleast stop doubting manifestation. Cause at this point you're only gonna manifest your doubts.

I'll give you a scenario - If you're worried about getting bad grades, Trust me when I say this you're gonna manifest exactly that coz you will manifest exactly what you assume. You can choose to stop that right here, RN. Choose to accept that you got great marks. I mean don't even like aim for B's go for A's. I don't care even if you left the paper blank coz if you assume you're the topper, that is exactly what's gonna happen.

If you do get bad marks and I'm gonna be harsh here - You're the only reason why! You're gonna manifest exactly what you assume to be true even if it's good or bad. Your sc mind don't differentiate btw what's good for you or what's bad for you. It only knows what you feed it.

You got this, TRUST ME

Love, Shrads.

[danothan]

one time i had a dream that booster was depressed abt ted being dead so he started talking to a hologram version of him, smth like a commercialized interactive promo. the ted hologram could talk back to him, but it seemed like only programmed responses. nothing for advice or personal conversation. one bit of dialogue was booster going “you’re the best, you know that, ted?” and ted puts out a thumbs up, winks, and says “you’re damn right i am!” booster blinks and laughs and falls back on the couch and starts reminiscing aloud on some things ted’s done, and the holo-ted conjures up reenactments of those adventures as booster lies on the couch, his smile gradually falling as the holograms become less and less specific, having never been programmed w the adventures booster’s had w him (i have never read or seen any boostle material)

bonus:

[ichorai]

blueberries ; five.

pairing ; joey tribbiani x gn!reader x rachel green chapter synopsis ; the one with accidental love confessions, friendly one night stands, and marinara sauce. wc ; 10.0k warnings / includes ; talks of sex/suggestive content, cursing, ross is an asshole in this one, a tiny connor cameo, rachel is a mess </3 and joey finally Realizes how he feels !!

series masterlist. main masterlist.

“I’ll pay you back this time, I promise!” Joey begged, clasping his hands together with a pleading pout. 

With a sigh, Chandler pulled his wallet out, slapping a crisp, five dollar bill onto the table. “Yeah? Where’s all this money coming from, then?”

Lowering his voice, Joey leaned forward to whisper, “I’m helpin’ out at the NYU Med School with some… research.”

Obviously not whispering quietly enough, the entire group turned to him, interests piqued. 

“What kind of research?” you asked, which made Joey flinch and snap his head to you.

“Oh, uh… just… you know! Science, and stuff.”

The rest of you stared at him with skeptical expressions.

“Science?” parroted Ross. “Hm, don’t think I’ve heard of that one.”

Relenting, Joey sank lower into the cafe’s seat. “Alright, alright—it’s a fertility study.”

Snorting, Monica chimed, “Please tell me you’re only donating your time.” The rest of you chuckled along with her.

“Come on, you guys, it’s not that big of a deal,” huffed Joey. “Really, I just go down there every other day and… make my contribution to the project. At the end of two weeks, I’ll get seven hundred bucks!”

“Wow,” said Phoebe. “You’re gonna be making money hand over fist!”

You choked on your sip of coffee, and Chandler had to sympathetically pound your back to get you to stop.

It was Rachel’s birthday, and you were in Monica’s kitchen, helping her chop up some vegetables for the birthday barbecue the group was throwing. Joey and Chandler strode in shortly after, reenacting cavemen with stupid accents. 

“Hey,” you interrupted, which made the two freeze mid-chest pound. “Your girlfriend called, Joe. She’s gonna be late.”

A couple days ago, Joey and Melanie started casually dating. Though, much to your dismay, he seemed to really like her. Not that you didn’t want Joey to be happy or anything… you just weren’t all that fond of Melanie. She was rather dull, if you had to put it bluntly. All she really seemed to care about were fruit baskets and, from what Joey’s told you, sex.

“How’s it going with her?” Phoebe queried. “Is she becoming your special someone?” 

A grin crossed over Joey’s features. “I don’t know, she’s… she’s pretty great!” 

“Yeah, pretty great with fruit baskets,” you mumbled under your breath, loud enough for Joey to catch.

“Sure, she can be a bit… one-dimensional, but it’s been going really well!” he defended, grabbing a piece of carrot from your cutting board and popping it into his mouth.

Monica grinned. “Yeah? What’s she think of your little science project?”

Joey scoffed at the notion. “You really think I’m gonna tell a girl I like that I’m also seein’ a cup?” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tough thing is, she really wants to have sex with me.”

Taking a swig of beer, Chandler sardonically noted, “Crazy bitch.”

You rolled your eyes. “She cornered me the other day asking if I’ve ever slept with you, you know.”

Stiffening, Joey tilted his head. “What? What did you say?”

“Obviously, I told her no!” you shot back. “I asked her why, and she said she thought we were together at one point and thereby assumed we’ve had sex, so she wanted my advice, because you always seemed to push her away.”

The Italian crossed his arms in thought. “Huh. Weird.”

“Hm, I wonder why she thought the two of you were together at one point,” Chandler postulated, staring pointedly at Joey. 

“What happened then?” Phoebe asked.

“What do you think happened?” you sighed, washing your hands off and flicking the excess water away once you were done chopping up the vegetables. “She sent me a fruit basket.”

The two girls snickered.

“Hey, why haven’t you slept with her yet?” Monica tilted her head at Joey. “Normally, you don’t last the first night with someone you’re going out with.”

“Well, I’ve still got a week left to go on the program, and according to the rules, if I want to get the money, I’m not allowed to conduct any personal experiments, if you know what I mean,” he said.

Twisting her face with disgust, Monica shook her head. “Joey, we always know what you mean.”

A part of you wanted to say that having sex really didn’t affect sperm count in the long run—you’d known thanks to an ex-boyfriend of yours who had been a urologist—but, much to your surprise, you bit your tongue and withheld the information. 

Chandler and Joey were off to the balcony to start the grill’s fire, and not long after, Ross appeared through the door, looking despondent. He was clutching a large bag that looked nearly twice your weight.

“Woah,” said Phoebe. “How long did you think this barbecue was going to last?”

The tall man blew out a long exhale. “I’m going to China,” he mumbled, setting the bag down with a loud thud.

“What?” his sister asked. “You’re going to China?”

“It’s for the museum!” replied Ross. “Someone found a bone, we want the bone, and they don’t want us to have the bone—so I’m going to try to persuade them to give it to us—really, it’s a whole big boner thing. I shouldn’t have said boner. You get what I mean.”

Narrowing your eyes, you hummed, “Maybe if they found it in China, don’t you think it should stay there with the Chinese? I mean, it’s rightfully theirs.”

Ross was about to counter, mouth hanging open, but found no words to argue with.

You rolled your eyes. “Gosh, Ross, you’ll be just as bad as the British Museum stealing from people of color. Way to go.”

You turned, about to march away from him, but he called out after you, “I’m gonna be gone for a week! Won’t you at least say goodbye?”

“Bye!” you barked out, striding out to the balcony with Chandler and Joey.

“Hey, you okay? You look all…” Chandler trailed off to impersonate a snarl and raised his hands to form claws. 

“Charming as ever, my dear Chandler. It’s a wonder you’re still single,” you mock-sighed dreamily, leaning against him and batting your eyelashes. The two of you laughed, and you pulled away. “Ross is going to China.”

Joey’s eyebrows rose. “The country?”

“No, the broken pile of dishes in his mom’s yard,” Chandler sarcastically quipped. 

“Yeah, and he’s being a real dick,” you muttered, crossing your arms. 

It was then that Ross peeked his head through the window, stepping out with mild difficulty due to his gangly limbs. 

“Did Y/N tell you guys I’m going to China?” he asked, which earned him a sharp glare from you. The other two men nodded their heads. “Also, do you guys know who Carl is?”

“Hm, let’s see—Alvin, Simon, Theodore… nope, ‘fraid I don’t know him,” said Chandler.

Ross pulled a sour face. “Apparently Rachel’s out having drinks with him.”

“Oh, no, how can she do that when she’s never shown any interest in you whatsoever?” said Joey, and you high-fived him with an amused chortle.

Sick of Ross moping around and pining over Rachel, Chandler admonished, “Just forget about her, man! You’ve been stuck in the friendzone for way too long for anything to happen.”

“He’s right,” added Joey. “Please, just move on. Go to China, eat Chinese food!”

“I don’t know… I guess I have no choice,” Ross lamented, fiddling with the small, wrapped gift. “Listen, Y/N, I know you’re pissed at me, but will you please make sure Rachel gets this? And that she knows it’s from me?”

Rolling your eyes, you snatched the gift from him and tucked it safely into the pockets of your baggy jeans, refusing to meet his gaze. “When does your plane leave?”

“In two hours, but I should get going now if I wanna catch it.”

“Well, bye then. Travel safely.”

“I don’t want to leave knowing you’re mad—”

You blew out a deep sigh. “It’s fine, Ross. Just go. We’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t—”

“Just go!” the other two guys exclaimed, shooing Ross out. The taller man relented, and climbed back into the apartment. 

Joey wrapped his arms around you from behind, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. Sure, it was alright when he wasn’t dating anyone but now, knowing that he was doing this with you when he had a girlfriend he very much liked—it made your chest feel tight, like a large stone was weighing down on your lungs. 

“Yikes, that was hard to watch. Remind me not to get on your bad side,” he said, amused.

“You have, Joey.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side again,” he clarified. 

Clearing his throat, Chandler propped his hands on his hips. “Hey, lovebirds. Are we going to get the fire started, or what?”

“Anyway, that’s when me and my friends started this fruit-basket business!” explained Joey’s girlfriend, who was precariously perched on his lap and gesturing wildly with her hands. “We call ourselves The Three Basketeers.”

Awkwardly, the rest of you let out a couple of forced chuckles. You had to swallow down the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Can we open my presents now?” Rachel whined, bouncing in her spot with excitement. Normally, you would’ve wanted to have dinner first and save presents for last, but you were eager to get away from the topic of fruit baskets. 

The group headed over to the couches, but you held Joey back, a small smile across your lips. 

“Hold on there, hot shot. How’s it going, how are you holding up with Melanie?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Joey winced. “Ugh, not so good, to be honest. She thinks tonight’s the night we’re gonna complete the transaction, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know what you mean, Jo,” you bit out, rolling your eyes. “Well, have you ever thought about… you know, just giving instead of receiving?”

There was a brief moment of silence. “What do you mean?” His voice lowered, and he leaned closer to you.

Cocking an eyebrow, you whispered, “Well, there’s oral, there’s fingering, there’s thigh riding… toys work too, if you’ve got any of those. Which, if you don’t, I know for a fact Chandler has some.”

The man across from you ogled you with wide eyes. “Oh. Oh.”

“Just think about it, okay? I promise, she’ll be completely smitten with you by the time you’re done.” 

You were just about to head to the couches to watch Rachel open her gifts before he loosely caught your wrist.

“Thanks,” he said, wholly sincere. You smiled at him, patting his cheek affectionately, before heading off. A second later, he called out, “Wait, why do you know that Chandler has sex toys?!”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess here,” said the birthday girl, holding a fruit basket, “this is from Melanie?”

Joey’s girlfriend clapped excitedly, just about to launch into a tirade about the perfectly curated fruits she had selected, but was promptly interrupted when Rachel grabbed another gift.

“Ooh, this one’s light. It rattles… it’s—” She pulled a box out of the bag. “Travel scrabble.” 

Joey and Chandler grinned at each other, but you could already see the disappointment in Rachel’s eyes.

“Thanks,” she said, dryly, before shoving the box to the side, much to Chandler’s dismay.

The rest of the presents were opened one by one—Monica had gotten Rachel a cute blouse that you just knew she would return for a different piece later, Phoebe got her about a dozen charm bracelets, claiming she didn’t know which one Rachel would like the most, so she just got her all of them, and Joey got her a Dr. Seuss book, much to her dismay. Rachel got around to your bag, which held a pack of scented candles, and bundles of fairy lights for her to hang in her room. 

She looked pretty happy with those, which made you sigh out in relief. Rachel was a bit hard to get gifts for, considering she already had practically everything.

Finally, you pulled out Ross’ gift from your pocket, handing it to her. “Here, Rach. This is from Ross.”

The brunette grinned, tearing the little package open thinking it’d be something nerdy, like a magnifying glass or a miniature dinosaur figure from the museum. 

“Oh, my God,” she said when she finally opened it. “He remembered!”

You peered over to see a large, bejeweled pin held precariously between her fingers.

“Remembered what?” Phoebe asked.

“It was like, months ago, we were walking by this antique store, and I saw this exact pin in the window and I told him it was just like the one my grandmother had when I was a little girl—and… oh, I just can’t believe he got it for me!” 

Chandler scoffed. “Sure, it’s nice, but can you play it on a plane?” he drummed his hands along the Travel Scrabble box, before sinking further into his seat when you glared at him.

“Oh, it’s so pretty,” Phoebe chimed when Rachel reached out to give her a closer look. “That must’ve cost him a fortune!”

“I can’t believe he got you that,” said Monica.

“What, Ross? Remember in college when he fell in love with Carol and bought her that ridiculously expensive crystal duck?” Chandler commented, completely unaware of what he’d just said.

The rest of you stared at him with wide eyes.

“What did you just say?” whispered Rachel.

It took a second for Chandler to realize where he’d gone wrong. He sat upright, spluttering and coughing out simultaneously, “Crystal duck?”

“No,” Rachel said. “No, no… the, uhm, the ‘love’ part?”

Chandler struggled to find his tongue, eventually giving up and sinking his face into his hands.

“Oh, my God,” Rachel softly whispered. “This is just… this is unbelievable! I just—I can’t believe Ross is… oh, my God. This is huge.”

“No, it’s not! It’s small, it’s tiny, it’s petite, it’s wee!” Chandler pleaded, trying to get her to calm down. 

“I think this is so great,” said Monica, clasping her hands together. “I mean, you and Ross! Did you have any idea?”

Still stunned, Rachel shook her head. “No, none at all. I mean, my first night in the city, he mentioned something about asking me out, but nothing ever happened, so I just…” She turned to you. “What else did he say? Does he want to go out with me?”

“Considering that he’s desperately in love with you, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that he wouldn’t mind getting a cup of coffee, or something,” you replied, grasping her shoulders. “Listen, Rachel, don’t freak out about this. Take some time to think it over, and you can talk to Ross when he gets back.”

All of a sudden, she jerked away from you, standing up. “What do you mean when he gets back? Where is he? I need to talk to him!”

“He’s in China!” Chandler stepped in. 

“The country,” Joey clarified.

Checking the flight information, Monica told her, “His flight doesn’t leave for another forty-five minutes.”

“What about the time difference?” cried Chandler, desperate to keep Rachel from confronting Ross, knowing that it was his fault that she knew in the first place.

“From here to the airport?” you asked, scoffing. “Rachel, he’ll be back in a week—that’s basically nothing! Just take this time to think it over—”

Already determinedly striding to the door, Rachel called over her shoulder, “I have to try and get to him before he goes. It’s just… too big to not talk about right now.”

“What are you gonna say?” asked Monica.

“I don’t know!” she replied, breathless.

Though you were still quite pissed with Ross, you put a hand on Rachel’s forearm. “Honey, if you’re going to break his heart, that can wait until after he’s back.”

Rachel’s eyes met yours, uncertain. “I don’t know,” she repeated. “Maybe I’ll know when I see him. All I know is that I can’t wait a week. This is just too big of something to sit on.”

More protests were on the tip of your tongue, but you held them down, well aware that your words would only fall upon deaf ears.

She already had a foot out the door when Chandler screamed, “Rachel, I love you! Deal with me first!”

Exasperated, Rachel huffed out a sigh, and stomped out the door, on her way to go see Ross.

She didn’t make it. 

Ross had already gotten on the plane by the time Rachel arrived at the airport.

When she got back, Chandler and Joey and Melanie had already left, leaving just you, Phoebe, and Monica in the apartment. Monica had asked her again what she was planning on telling him when he got back. When Rachel finally admitted that the idea of dating Ross sounded really nice, Monica jumped up to wrap her arms around her, smiling widely.

“Oh, we’d be like friends-in-law!” she exclaimed, beaming. “The best part is that you already know everything about him! It’s like starting out on the fifteenth date.”

Phoebe countered, “Well, at the fifteenth date, you’re already in such a relationship-y place. You’re super committed at that point. You know, what happens if it doesn’t work out?”

“Why isn’t it working out?” Monica shot back, bristling. “Is he not cute enough for you? Does he not make enough money? Is there someone else?”

Rachel opened and closed her mouth several times, flubbering for words, before placatingly placing her hands on Monica’s shoulders. “Okay, Mon, you need to calm down. No, there is no one else.” Taking a pause, she looked to you. “Y/N, you’re the closest to Ross out of all of us. What do you think?”

Surprised at the sudden question, you could only offer her a gentle suggestion. “Rach, as much as I love the idea of two of my friends getting together—I just don’t think it’d be a good idea. Obviously, if you like him, you should go for it, but… think about it. You wouldn’t even be thinking twice about dating him if Chandler hadn’t let it slip that he loved you. Just think about your own feelings towards him—don’t get with him just because he loves you. That’s not fair to either of you.”

Though that wasn’t the answer that she was probably looking for, Rachel nodded, pursing her lips to the side. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Y/N. I’ll think about it.” She stood up, teeth worrying into her bottom lip. “I’m gonna go to bed now. Thank you for the party and the gifts, guys.”

With that, she turned and strode back into her room, softly shutting the door behind her.

“It was amazing!” Joey gushed, thanking you profusely. “That thing you told me about thigh-riding! Man, oh man!”

You huffed, setting down the sandwich you were having, not feeling very hungry anymore. “Too much information, Joe. I’m eating here!”

Your complaint falling upon deaf ears, he carried on, “It was just amazing. Not just for her—for me, too. It’s like, all of a sudden, I’m blind, but all my other senses are heightened, you know? It’s like I was able to appreciate it on another level.”

From beside you, Chandler snorted into his coffee. “I didn’t even know you had another level.”

“I know!” Joey exclaimed. “Neither did I! Say, Y/N, you have any more advice for me?”

If you went back in time a year ago and told your past-self that Joey Tribbiani came to you for sex advice, you would’ve laughed right in your future-self’s face. 

“Praise goes a long way,” you said, absentmindedly toying with the bread of your sandwich. “Or degrade her, if she likes it better that way. A little hand action and some sweet talk is very effective. Now, can we stop talking about sex? I’m trying to have my lunch here!”

A week passed by in a breeze. You were in Monica’s apartment, listening to Joey and Chandler rave about the haircuts Phoebe had given them. 

“You look nice,” you told Joey, reaching over to trace the freshly-cut strands. “Though, I do have to say that I’ll miss the long hair.”

“I’ll grow it out for you,” he promised, grasping your hand within his. 

The door swung open then, and in tumbled an out-of-breath Rachel, who had a zebra-print plaster over her forehead. 

“Airport! Airport!” she screeched, panting. “Ross… not alone! Julie—arm around her! Flowers! Oh, cramp! Cramp!” She clutched her side and doubled over in pain. 

“Okay, I think she’s trying to tell us something!” Chandler sarcastically told the rest of the group. You shoved him to the side with a roll of your eyes and made your way to Rachel, gently asking if she was alright. 

Completely ignoring your question, Rachel pointed an accusing finger at Chandler, jabbing it into his chest. “You said he liked me!” she shrieked. “You… you—!”

As if on cue, Ross strode into the open apartment, large bag in hand, and a woman on the other. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Why’d you run up so fast, Rach?” asked Ross, laughing slightly. 

“I, uhm… I thought we were racing?” she replied, eye visibly twitching. You patted her shoulder sympathetically.

Shrugging off the weird response, Ross greeted the rest of you, giving his sister a hug, clapped Joey and Chandler on the backs, and gave Phoebe a kiss on the cheek. He stopped in front of you, spreading his arms sheepishly.

Though the two of you separated on not-so-great terms, you didn’t have the heart to be angry at him for an entire week.

You stepped forward and gave him a brief embrace, before pulling away and patting his cheek with a little more force than necessary.

“You still mad at me?” he asked, looking genuinely uncertain.

“When am I not, Ross?” you sighed, shaking your head. “It’s good to have you back.”

He smiled in relief, before stepping away to introduce his new girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her. “Okay, everyone, this is Julie.”

The rest of you chimed your hellos, though not without sending worried glances to Rachel.

“Hi,” said Julie, smiling tiredly. “But I’m not here, you haven’t met me. I’ll make a much better first impression tomorrow when I don’t have twenty hours of cab and plane on me.”

“And bus!” Ross added.

“Oh, my God, right? The spitting guy, and the screaming… it was terrible!”

“Yeah, you guys have to hear this story,” said Ross.

Julie nodded emphatically. “Right, we’re on this bus that’s easily two-hundred years old. And this guy—”

“And the chicken poops in her lap,” Rachel interrupted, deadpan. 

Everybody stared at her, mildly confused. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the brunette said, looking shocked at herself. “I just gave away the ending, didn’t I? Oh, it’s just that I heard this story in the cab, like, three times and it’s all I can think about.” She grimaced, turning to rest her forehead against your shoulder in embarrassment.

In an effort to divert the attention away from Rachel, Monica clapped her hands. “Wow, this is… how did this happen, Ross?”

“Oh, Ross and I were in grad school together!” said Julie, brightening at the memory.

“But we haven’t seen each other since then. Well, I land in China, and guess who’s in charge of the dig?”

“Julie!” Rachel exclaimed, a strained edge to her voice. “I mean, isn’t that just hit-you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck fantastic?”

The couple stared at her strangely.

“It’s an inside joke,” you awkwardly chuckled, waving it away with a convincing grin. 

“Alright, well, we’re gonna go see the baby,” said Ross. 

Julie hummed in agreement. “Then we gotta get some sleep. I’m exhausted!”

“Yeah, it’s really six o’clock tomorrow night our time.”

The couple bid their goodbyes, before heading out the door. 

Rachel let out a soft exhale, and you roped her into a proper hug, stroking the back of her head comfortingly. 

“Hey, does anybody know a good tailor?” asked Chandler as he ambled into Monica’s apartment. 

“You need some clothes altered?” said Joey, aimlessly flipping through a magazine on the couch, resting his head in your lap. He’d recently been more clingy because he’d broken up with Melanie the day before. According to him, all she really ever talked about were fruit baskets—which were his words, not yours. Though, you were thinking the same thing.

Chandler huffed, “No, no, I’m just looking for a man to draw on me with chalk,” he deadpanned. 

Lifting his head slightly, Joey peered over the couch to look at his roommate. “Why don’t you go see Frankie? My family’s been going to him forever. He did my first suit when I was fifteen. No, wait, sorry. Sixteen. No—fifteen. No!” He looked to you, brows furrowed. “When was 1990 again?”

Chandler snorted, gesturing to his ears. “Okay, buddy, you have to stop the q-tip when there’s resistance!”

From across the room, Ross was on the phone with his new girlfriend he seemed completely smitten with, much to Rachel’s dismay. Rachel visibly rolled her eyes when Ross cooed lovingly into the phone, before getting up and storming into the kitchen. You and Joey locked eyes, before hurrying after her, not wanting to miss out on any drama.

“How is this happening to me?” the brunette softly cried to Monica. “A week ago, Ross was just Ross—he was just this guy! Now, all of a sudden, he’s… he’s Ross! This really great guy that I can’t have.”

Sympathetic, Monica placed an arm over her roommate’s shoulder. As if on cue, Ross came strolling into the kitchen to grab a banana from the fruit bowl, phone wedged between his shoulder and the side of his head, making gross kissing noises. 

Rachel bolted up, squaring her jaw.

“I gotta get out of here,” she bit out, before grabbing her bag and striding right out the door. 

“Okay, I don’t care what you guys say, but something’s bothering her!” Chandler sarcastically quipped.

Rolling your eyes, you made your way to the door. “I’ll go talk to her.”

“Hey,” you said, gently brushing your fingers against Rachel’s shoulder to alert her of your presence. She was sitting on the apartment building’s short stairs, hunched over her knees as she hugged them against her chest. She turned to look at you, a forlorn expression melded over her features. Softening, you tugged her into a hug, rubbing your palm up and down her back. “I’m sorry, Rach. I wish I could do something to help. You wanna talk about it?”

When she pulled away, her eyes were glassy with a thin, warbling film of unshed tears.

“I just… I don’t know what’s going on with me, you know? I never really thought about Ross in that way and the one time I do… he’s with someone else and it hurts. When I saw Ross get off that plane with her, I really thought I’d just hit rock bottom. And you know how people always tell you that it gets better? Well, today I feel more shitty than I did the day before.” Rachel buried her face into her palms, tears streaking down her cheeks. 

“Oh, honey, why don’t you just tell him?” you asked. “He’s barely been with Julie for two weeks, and that’s nothing compared to how long Ross has been in love with you.”

Rachel let out a long sigh, lifting her damp face away from her hands. “I don’t know, Y/N. I’m just so confused. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” you said softly, moving closer to rope your arm over her shoulders, and pressed a gentle kiss to her warm forehead. “What do you say you come over to my place and we watch a movie, hm? I’ll let you pick.”

“Can we watch The Princess Bride?”

“Sure,” you said, taking her hands to pull her up with you. “Whatever you want.”

It shouldn’t have happened.

One moment, the two of you were cuddled up on your couch, preening over how good Westley looked, and the other, Rachel was on top of you, her lips frantically moving against yours. 

It was your fault, really. Rachel was vulnerable, and obviously needed a distraction, and so, like a fool, you let her use you as one. You let her unbutton your shirt. You let her desperately tug against your hair. You let her kiss you, and you let her shove you into your bedroom.

 At one point, you managed to pull away for a second, breathless and entirely conflicted about the situation. She looked so beautiful spread over the sheets of your bed, and it made your heart sink at the thought that she wasn’t doing this because she really wanted to—she was doing this because she was looking for something to make her forget. Even for just a little bit. “Rach, don’t you think we should slow down a bit? I know you’re hurting, but—”

She shook her head firmly, roping her arms over your neck and yanking you back down, kissing you hard. You froze against her, and the brunette sighed against you. 

“Please?” she whispered, all soft and broken and devastating.

You could practically feel yourself caving. 

No more words were exchanged. 

You leaned back down to kiss her.

It was the next day. You were still sleeping in bed, most likely exhausted from all the activities you’d been up to the night before, and Rachel slipped out as soon as she’d woken up beside you. Naked and aching. Oh, what has she done?

Rachel winced as she tried to quietly open the door to Monica’s apartment, but it creaked, alerting everybody of her return. She was only grateful that Ross wasn’t there—probably off canoodling with his new girlfriend.

Monica’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God, Rachel, what happened? I was worried sick about you! Where’d you go last night?” After another moment, she narrowed her eyes, surveying her roommate’s disheveled appearance. “You slept with somebody, didn’t you?”

Clearing her throat, Rachel straightened her posture, pointedly ignoring Monica’s question. “I stayed over at Y/N’s place. Is there something wrong with that?”

At first, Monica nodded, relieved. “Oh, okay,” she said. Another second past, and her eyes widened, just about bugging out of her head at the realization. “Wait, you didn’t say no to my question. OH, MY GOD!”

From the couches, Joey turned his head at the commotion. “What’s going on?”

“RACHEL AND Y/N SLEPT TOGETHER!” shrieked Monica. Rachel fruitlessly tried to shush her, spewing out that it wasn’t that big of a deal and that it was a mistake.

From behind the closed bathroom door, Chandler’s voice echoed, “WHAT? RACHEL AND Y/N SLEPT TOGETHER?!” He came out a moment later, face colored red with shock.

Rachel pulled at the skin of her face in frustration and faced all her friends as they expectantly watched her, waiting for an explanation.

“How did this happen?” demanded Joey, seeming lost. “I thought you were… you were… Ross…”

“I am,” sighed Rachel, massaging her pulsing temples. “It was a mistake. A really wonderful one, sure, but still a mistake. Y/N was being so nice and it just happened, okay? I was the one that kissed them—so Y/N wasn’t taking advantage of me or anything. They tried to stop me at one point and I—I don’t know, I asked if we could keep going and Y/N gave in.” Her cheeks colored hotly at the memory. 

The rest of them stared at her, speechless.

“Where is Y/N?” asked Joey, crossing his arms.

“Still sleeping,” whispered Rachel, feeling ashamed of herself. “I’m gonna go get changed. Excuse me.”

She left in a hurry, leaving the rest of them puzzled and unsure of what to make of things.

“So, you and Rachel, huh?” Joey leaned against your kitchen counter as you fixed yourself (and him) a sandwich, raising his eyebrows. 

You rolled your eyes. “It was a one night stand, Joey—a fling, if you will. You know that better than anybody.”

“Yeah, but it’s different,” he said, grabbing half of the cut sandwich and taking a large bite. “Because you were friends with her before. Don’t you think it’ll be weird going back to being friends?”

A part of you was a bit worried that Rachel would act weird about it, but you personally didn’t really see a problem with it—you knew Rachel had feelings for Ross and you didn’t want to get in the way of that any more than you already have.

“It’ll be fine,” you reassured him, bumping the side of your hip against his. “We’re both mature adults—besides, I love Rachel too much to let this ruin our friendship.”

With a teasing hum, Joey leaned in closer to you. “Oh, yeah? Do you love me enough to sleep with me and not let it ruin our friendship?”

With a scoff, you patted his chest and walked away, sandwich wedged between your teeth as you called out, “In your dreams, Tribbiani.”

Rachel showed up to your apartment again the next night, promising not to make any advances on you this time. She apologized profusely and the two of you had talked it out. It ended in tears (Rachel) and yawns (you) because it was way too late for you to get emotional. The two of you hugged it out, promising each other that this wouldn’t get weird, and before you knew it, she was getting up to go back.

“Oh, just so you know,” she said, hanging halfway out your doorway, “you’re really great in bed.”

Surprise colored your expression when she dipped forward to kiss you softly on the cheek, and sauntered away, humming gently under her breath. You blinked, before rubbing your fists into your eyes.

“I really need to get some sleep,” you thought to yourself dazedly, partially wondering if this was a dream.

“This is unbelievable, Pheebs. How can you be married?” Joey asked the blonde from Monica’s dining table.

Patting his shoulder you began to say, “See, Joe, when two people love each other very much—” You cut yourself off with a laugh when he began swatting at you, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well, I’m not, like, married married. He was just a friend, and he’s gay! He’s from Canada, and he just needed a green card,” Phoebe defensively stated. 

Monica shook her head. “I can’t believe you married Duncan. How could you not tell me! I mean, we lived together—we told each other everything!”

“Sorry, Mon, but if I told you, you would’ve gotten super judgemental and you wouldn’t have approved!”

Your raven-headed friend’s voice began to grow shrill as she said, “Of course I wouldn’t have approved! You were totally in love with this guy, who, hello, was gay! I mean, what the hell were you thinking?”

From across the table, Ross snorted. “See, Pheebs, and you thought she’d be judgemental.”

“Okay, I wasn’t in love with him, I was just helping out a friend!”

Accusingly, Monica shot back, “Please, when he left town, you stayed in your pajamas for a month! And I saw you eat a cheeseburger!”

The rest of you gasped. 

“Phoebe, is that true?” Rachel asked, aghast.

Avoiding eye contact, the blonde poured herself a cup of tea. “I might’ve.”

“I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” said Monica. “Getting married is a big thing!”

Narrowing her eyes, Phoebe retorted, “Oh, come on. As if you tell me everything?”

“What have I not told you?” challenged Monica.

“Oh, I don’t know, how about the fact that the underwear out there on the telephone pole is yours from when you were having sex with Fun Bobby out on the terrace!” Phoebe exclaimed, pointing out the window. 

The rest of you rushed to press your faces into the glass, eager to see what she was on about. 

Offended, Monica slapped Chandler on the arm. “You told her?!”

Recoiling, Chandler bit out, “I didn’t know it was a big secret!”

“Oh, no of course not—at least not as big as having a third nipple!” she screeched, which brought all of your attention away from the underwear dangling outside to Chandler, who was tomato-faced and grimacing. 

“You have a third nipple?” asked Phoebe.

“You bitch,” Chandler hissed to Monica, who only stuck her tongue out childishly.

Excited, Ross exclaimed, “Whip it out, Chandler!”

“Ew, guys! There’s nothing to see, it’s just a tiny bump, it’s totally useless!” He rounded to the living room to put some distance between the rest of you, but you all followed behind him anyways.

Cocking your head, you sarcastically put forth, “Right, as opposed to your other multifunctional nipples!”

“I can’t believe you! You told me it was a nubbin,” said Joey. 

“Joe, what did you think a nubbin was?” Ross responded.

“I don’t know—you see something, you hear a word—I thought that’s what it was! Let me see it again, Chandler—”

Desperate to divert the attention away from him, Chandler pointed a finger at you. “Y/N and Rachel slept together!”

Most of the group waved him away, having already known that fact, but Ross blanched, eyes darting between you and Rachel.

“What?” he said. “You… you—you slept with her?” he said, an accusing lilt to his tone, bordering on anger. You blinked, brows creasing. 

“Yeah,” you carefully said. “It was one time. We’re both grown adults, Ross, we’re allowed to do whatever we want to each other. Besides, you’re with Julie. What’s got your pickle in such a twist?” 

Ross was close to belittling you, wanting to ask how could you? You know that I was in love with Rachel.

But he didn’t, because Rachel was right there, watching the two of you with worried eyes. And you were right—Rachel wasn’t his property. She was free to sleep with whoever she wanted, which included you. Not even mentioning that he had a girlfriend right now and had no right to be jealous for someone he wasn’t even dating.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You gonna drop it, Ross? Or is this gonna be a problem?”

“Nope. No problem,” Ross chuckled hoarsely, clearly having a problem with it. 

Satisfied, you rolled your shoulders back and sent Chandler a withering glare. “Alright… since we’re dragging other people into this—Joey was in a porno!”

The group gasped at your revelation. 

Jaw dropping, Joey glared at you with wide eyes, as if to say, how could you?

Chandler guffawed, clapping his hands together, relishing the chaos. “Yeah, that’s right! If I’m going down, I’m taking everybody with me!” This earned him a cuff to the back of his head, and he turned, only to cower away from your burning stare.

“Oh, my God! You were in a porno?” squawked Phoebe.

“Tell us about it, tell us about it!” chimed Monica.

Waving them away, Joey was quick to say, “Alright, alright! I was young and I just wanted a job, okay? But at the last minute, I couldn’t go through with it—my uh… my thing got stage fright, see? So they let me be the guy who comes in to fix the copier but can’t because—well, because there’s people havin’ sex on it.”

You snorted. “Never gets old.”

“That’s wild!” said Rachel. Then, she promptly turned back to Chandler, pointing at his chest. “So, what’s it shaped like?”

It was around a week later—and you strode into Monica’s apartment, exhausted from working a full day in the lab, only to be met by three squealing women with sloshing glasses of wine.

“Ross and Rachel kissed!” exclaimed Monica, flushed a bright shade of pink and grinning widely. 

Your eyes widened. “What? Oh, my God… uhm, congrats?” you tentatively said, judging from their gleeful celebratory expressions. “What about Julie?”

The drunken atmosphere seemed to dwindle away at your question. Rachel sat up straight, expression crumbling. “Right… Julie…” 

You strode to her and wrapped her into a warm embrace. There was so much that you wanted to stay, but you bit down on your tongue and just held her all the tighter.

The next day, you had to watch the excruciating exchange between Julie and Ross—the former having no clue about the kiss, and the latter looking as guilty as a child caught stealing cookies.

You decided you wanted no part in it, despite both Ross and Rachel constantly asking you for advice.

“This is like a complete nightmare!” Ross stressed from the privacy of Chandler’s apartment, pacing back and forth in front of the tv. 

Rolling his eyes, Chandler sardonically bit out, “Oh, I know, it must be so hard having two women in love with you! They’re both gorgeous, my wallet’s too small for my fifties, and my diamond shoes are too tight!”

The taller man glared at him, crossing his arms.

“Listen, Ross, I got two words for you,” interjected Joey, holding up two fingers. “Threesome!”

You pinched his cheek with a scoff of a laugh. “That’s one word.”

“This isn’t helping!” Ross practically screeched. “Y/N, come on, you’re the most sensible out of all of us. Help me! What do I do?”

Feeling a bit guilty, you just shook your head. “Ross, either way, you’re going to hurt someone. You have two options—you break up with Julie and you get with Rachel, or you get firm with Rachel and tell her you’re staying with Julie. There’s no secret third option, because that’ll only lead to even more disaster and you’ll end up losing them both. Just don’t be a dick to either of them, okay? I care about Rachel a lot, and I don’t want to see her hurt because of you.”

Ross blinked at you. “So what I’m hearing is… Rachel?”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you wrinkled your nose at him in disgust, furrowing your brows. “Ugh, no! Damn it, Ross—”

“Let’s be logical about this,” interjected Chandler. “We’ll make a list—pros and cons for both Rachel and Julie.”

You crossed your arms. “That’s a terrible idea. Why are you treating them like objects for bartering?”

Huffing, Ross merely shook his head. “It’s not a half-bad idea, though. Might help me make a smart choice.”

“Great!” exclaimed Chandler. “Let’s start with the cons—Rachel first.”

Ross’ expression twisted hesitantly. “I don’t know… I guess you could say she’s a little spoiled sometimes. And you know, sometimes she’s a little ditzy—and I’ve seen her be a little too into her looks. Julie and I—we have a lot in common because we’re both paleontologists, but you know, Rachel’s just… she’s a waitress.”

Disgusted, you scoffed. “God, you’re such an asshole, Ross. Are you serious? The nerve of you…” you trailed off, pushing yourself away from Joey’s side to grab your coat on the back of the couch, already heading for the door.

“Hey, where are you going?” asked Joey. “Y/N, come back, he doesn’t mean it!” Pointedly, Joey jabbed Ross in the side, but he just guiltily looked to the ground.

“Fuck you, Ross. She’s my friend too, you know. Shame on you two, as well,” you chastised, glaring at the three men, before storming out of the apartment, making sure to slam the door hard behind you.

The next day, Ross broke up with Julie.

And just a bit after that, Rachel saw the list he’d made of her as she slipped into Chandler’s apartment to steal some of his moisturizer. 

God, you knew something like this would happen.

You stumbled into Monica’s apartment with the rest of the group, laughter from a story Joey was telling ebbing away upon the sight of Ross begging Rachel to open the bedroom door.

Before anyone could step in and ask what was going on, Rachel swung the door open, face blotchy from crying and crimson with fury.

“Rach, come on—you gotta give me another chance.”

“No!” firmly exclaimed the brunette. 

“No?”

“That’s what I said. No.”

Awkward, Chandler took a step closer to the door. “Look, maybe we should go—”

“No, you guys shouldn’t go, because Ross and I are done talking.”

“Rach, look, I know how this must—”

Holding up a hand, Rachel squared her jaw and coldly replied, “No, you don’t, Ross. Imagine… the worst things you’d think about yourself. Now, how would you feel if the one person that you trusted the most in the world not only thinks it too, but actually uses it as reasons not to be with you!” 

Faltering, Ross stammered out, “No, but—but, see, I wanna be with you in spite of all those things.”

What an asshole, you thought.

Slowly, the five of you began inching to the door.

Anger flickered across her expression. “Oh, well, that’s mighty big of you, Ross.” She momentarily snapped her gaze towards you. “I said don’t go!” she barked.

All of you froze like deer in the headlights.

Voice breaking, Ross replied in a panicked manner, “You know… if—if things were the other way around, there is nothing that you could put on a list that would ever make me not want to be with you!” 

Rachel’s tense shoulders dropped, as if she was totally and utterly done with this conversation. “Well, see, that’s the difference between us. I’d never make a list.”

With that, she shut the door in Ross’ face. 

All of you stared, wide-eyed, as he slowly backed away from her bedroom, and sank down to slump on the coffee table. 

“I never know how long you’re supposed to wait in this type of situation until you can talk again,” Joey whispered into your ear. You pinched his side, sending him a glare. “Oh, okay, I guess we’re waiting a bit longer, then.”

You wrapped the scarf tighter around your neck, blowing out a breath that misted into the cold air in front of you. 

“Joey, slow down!” you called out, lightly jogging after the man who was practically sprinting down to the newspaper stand down the street. “They won’t be sold out of papers at one in the morning!”

“I’m just excited!” he exclaimed, grabbing your hand and yanking you along, much to your dismay. “I’ve never gotten reviewed before!”

“You were really great, Joe—I’m being serious! You make a good king,” you said genuinely, smiling at him when he halted in front of the stall, sending you a grateful grin. “Though, you might wanna consider wearing underwear next time—when you sat down everyone could see your uh… your royal subjects.”

You broke out into a fit of laughter, which you tried to hide away into coughing when Joey rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

Shucking a couple of coins from his mostly-empty wallet, he tossed them to the vendor and grabbed a couple papers, handing you one. The rest of the group caught up to the two of you moments later, taking a couple papers to see for themselves.

Your heart dropped upon reading the first few lines of the review. Sending a glance over at Joey, you could see his shoulders begin to droop.

“The only thing worse than the mindless adolescent direction is Joseph Tribbiani’s disturbingly unskilled portrayal of the king…” he mumbled, downtrodden. 

Chandler clapped his roommate’s shoulder. “Hey, look, that’s just one douchebag’s opinion! Alright, Pheebs, read yours.”

The blonde perked up, clearing her throat before reading aloud, “The only thing worse than the mindless adolescent direction—”

“Alright, does anybody have a different paper?” intervened Chandler. “Ross, read yours.”

The taller man winced at the colorful insults on his paper, shooting Joey an apologetic glance. “I don’t think I want to.”

Huffing, Joey handed you his paper, and sank down onto the curb of the sidewalk, hanging his head. 

“Oh, Joe,” you said, kneeling down beside him. “They don’t know what they’re talking about—critics always have a stick up their ass! They never know how to have fun and they’re always reviewing things with tunnel vision for snobbish pish-posh elegance that nobody gives a shit about!”

The Italian sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe they have a point. I’ve been doing this for ten years and I haven’t gotten anywhere! There’s gotta be a reason.”

Rachel reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Joey—”

“No, no, I’m quitting. It’s just too hard.”

The rest of you blanched at his sudden declaration, each of you erupting with protests. 

When Joey just shook his head, you all fell silent, and you took his hand, holding it tight to your chest. “Joey, and I say this from the bottom of my heart, I really enjoyed your play. I know the critics don’t, but I had so much fun watching you, and I know the rest of the audience did, too. This might not mean anything to you, but I’m really proud of you. You’ve come a long way since you started, and you should be proud of yourself, too.”

Joey was silent for a moment. Then he looked to you, a glimmer of appreciation behind his irises. “Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot, it does.”

You grinned. “Alright. What does everyone say to midnight pizza?”

“It’s nearly two in the morning,” deadpanned Rachel, hiding a yawn behind her fist. When she saw Joey’s pouting face, she huffed, relenting. “Oh, fine, fine. But no pineapples!”

You sauntered into Joey and Chandler’s apartment, about to ask them if they wanted to go catch a movie starting in half an hour, but your question faltered on your tongue upon seeing Joey bustling in the kitchen, about two dozen jars of homemade marinara sauce strewn all over the counter. He was furiously chopping more tomatoes, looking as stressed as ever. 

Blinking, you gently said his name, which made him grunt distantly in reply. You took a seat by the counter, reaching forward to swipe some marinara off his cheek and licked it off your thumb. 

“Hm,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “That’s good, Joey! What’s all this for?”

Before he could respond, Chandler trudged out of his bedroom, rubbing the nap away from his droopy eyes, mumbling, “Italy called and said it was hungry.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t get the part, then?” you asked sympathetically, referring to the Days of Our Lives call-back audition he had earlier today that he simply couldn’t pass up, despite claiming that he quit being an actor no less than a week ago. 

Your friend shook his head. “No, the part’s mine if I want it.”

Both you and Chandler blanched. “Oh, my God!”

“Yeah, well, that’s only if I’m willing to sleep with the casting lady,” huffed Joey. 

“Oh…” you said, finally understanding his dilemma.

Joey nodded. “Ten years I’ve been waiting for a break like this. Ten years! I mean, Days of our Lives—that’s actually on television!”

“So… what are you gonna do?” asked Chandler, glancing to you and noticing your suddenly uncomfortable expression.

“I don’t know,” his roommate admitted. “I mean, I guess I could sleep with her…”

Clearing your throat, you pulled up your sleeve slightly to check your wristwatch, hastily getting up from the stool and heading for the door. “So sorry to leave, but I’ve got a movie to catch. So, uh, good luck with the, uh, the audition.” You winced, before awkwardly rushing out. 

Chandler crossed his arms over his chest. “So what’s got you so stressed out? Is she pretty?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Joey reluctantly responded.

“Honestly surprised you haven’t slept with her already. Usually you’d jump at an opportunity like this. I mean, it’s not like you’re in love with anyone, so nothing’s really holding you back—” Chandler halted himself in his words. “Is this about Y/N? You never actually told them how you felt, did you—?”

Quick to cut him off, Joey snapped, “I’m not in love with Y/N!” Then, he hesitated, face screwing into one of confusion as he rinsed all the tomato juice off his hands. “At least… I don’t think I am. But anyways, this isn’t about them. I’ve never had to sleep with someone to get a job before.”

Obviously still dubious, Chandler just let out a little uhuh, and sat down by the counter. “Maybe this isn’t such a big deal, Joey. The way I see it, you get a great job, and you get to have sex with a nice girl!”

Joey’s shoulders dropped a little. “I just don’t think I want it that way, you know? Let’s say I make it—I’m always gonna wonder if it was because of my talent, or because of my dick!”

Chandler nodded. He was still quite miffed as to why Joey hadn’t already jumped on the opportunity, but he had a feeling it was because of—

“Can I tell you something?” asked Joey.

“Shoot.”

“I’ve barely been sleeping with anybody lately, I’m sure you’ve noticed—”

“I try to enjoy it while it lasts,” Chandler dryly replied. “Our walls are thin, you know.”

Rolling his eyes, Joey continued, “The last person I was properly dating was Melanie, and that felt like ages ago. And, uh… when I found out about Y/N and Rachel sleepin’ together it just kinda felt… I felt…”

“Jealous?”

Joey bit down on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah,” he reluctantly sighed out. “I don’t know. Maybe I am in love with Y/N.”

“Woah,” said Chandler, raising both hands in surprise as his eyes widened at Joey’s confession. 

“Woah!” parroted Joey, matching his roommate’s energy. “I said maybe. Maybe! I don’t know yet!”

“No, I just… I didn’t think you’d… you know, I always had a feeling but I never really expected you to admit it. That’s, uh, that’s great, Joe! Are you gonna tell them?”

Joey had to admit, he was absolutely terrified at the prospect of confessing his feelings to you. Usually, he wasn’t afraid of rejection because it never really was something he had to worry about but with you—he never, ever wanted to lose you. The very idea of not being friends with you anymore ripped him apart to pieces. 

But he had to try, didn’t he?

“Yeah,” replied Joey, glancing down at all the marinara he’d made, thinking back to the way you’d gently swiped some sauce off of his cheek. “I think I will.”

Joey whistled happily as he strode down the halls of the physics institution, not even caring that he’d walked into the wrong room three times in a row (the scientists in the second lab definitely weren’t happy with that), before finally finding your office. He’d gotten the job—without sleeping with the casting agent—and since you were so busy with work, he thought he’d stop by and tell you the good news because he just couldn’t wait until you got off.

Though, now that he stood in front of your door, he wished he’d waited.

Because then he wouldn’t have to see you with Connor—and how the two of you seemed awfully close, with his hand settled over your hip and yours gripping the front of his shirt as the two of you spoke lowly to each other.

A part of Joey wanted to turn tail and run, but he found himself rooted to the spot, mouth opening and closing silently. 

Finally, you caught sight of him in the doorway, and you practically sprang away from Connor, eyes wide and expression coloring with shock.

“Joey! What are you doing here?” you asked, slightly breathless and evidently flustered. 

The excitement he once felt began to dwindle away the longer he stood there, grappling for words. “I, uh… just wanted to come by and see how you’re doing! But I see you’re pretty busy and, uhm, I’m just gonna get going now! Bye!” With that, he turned on his heel and sprinted out of your office, before you could even begin to protest.

“That was weird,” said Connor, mildly confused. “What’s up with your friend?”

You stared at the open doorway for a second longer, brows furrowed. “I don’t know,” you replied distantly, before turning back to him with a smile. “Now, where were we?”

Later that night, Monica had invited everyone over to play some board games and drink a little bit of wine she’d been saving for over a year by now. You were glad for the break, having exhausted yourself working for the past few days. 

Halfway through your third round of Monopoly (the last two rounds had to be halted because Ross and Phoebe looked like they were about to tear each other’s throats out), Joey excused himself to take a quick breather on the balcony, and you followed suit after making sure Chandler wouldn’t steal any of your fake Monopoly money. As you were clambering out the window to join him, you caught sight of Chandler sneaking some of your dollar bills into his stack, and you rolled your eyes but let it go anyway.

“Hey,” you murmured, nudging Joey’s side with your elbow. “You okay? It’s cold out here.”

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling down at you briefly, though you noticed that it didn’t truly reach his eyes. “Just… thinking.”

A soft hum fell from you. “That doesn’t happen often, huh? What about?” You leaned your head against his shoulder, tilting your gaze up to New York’s starless night skies. The moon shone dimly behind a hazy city smog, one that seemed to never lift this time of year.

“I got the part,” he said.

“Oh, my God,” you whispered, pulling away for a second to stare at him with parted lips. “That’s amazing, Joey, congrats! I’m really proud of you, you know that?”

Something sickly twisted in his stomach at your words. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You settled back down against his shoulder, stray strands of your hair tickling his cheek. “So did you sleep with the casting agent? I won’t judge if you did, I promise.”

There was a short pause before he responded, a little hesitantly, “Nah—I was offered the part because I refused to sleep with them. I guess they liked my guts and wanted me in the show.”

You lifted your head to grin at him, nose wrinkling fondly. It did Joey’s heart no favors when you leaned forward and pressed a chaste, friendly kiss to his cheek, before resting your head back down. He inhaled sharply, the smell of your blueberry-scented shampoo making his chest ache with an itch that he just couldn’t seem to scratch away.

“Why didn’t you do it?” you asked, cold fingers moving down his arm to lace with his. “Sleep with the casting agent, that is.”

“Well… I don’t want to make up my career through sex and sex alone,” he said, carefully avoiding the glaringly obvious other reason why. “I would want to know at least some of it was because of my talent.”

You hummed again. The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. From the distance, a car honked. 

“What… uh, what were you and Connor doin’ earlier today when I came by?” he asked, trying to play it cool.

“Oh, he was just there to ask for some advice on his research paper. He just got a little flirty, really, nothing happened between us—it was nice and all, but… oh, I don’t know. I just don’t think I’m really looking for a serious relationship right now.”

Joey could feel his heart crumble into a million pieces and fall through the gaps between his ribs. Well, there goes any prospect of confessing his feelings to you tonight. He supposed it was for the better—if you’d rejected him, Joey didn’t think he could ever properly look you in the eye again and just continue to be friends as if nothing had happened. 

“Oh,” he said, voice cracking minutely. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay,” you told him genuinely, fondness seeping through your tone. “I’ve got great friends.”

“Yeah,” said Joey, lifting an arm to sling around your waist to give you a loose side-hug. If he couldn’t be with you in a romantic relationship, he was more than willing to be with you in a platonic one.