#that would give caleb time to decipher these notes

[legolasghosty]

Okayyyyyy so This Post happened earlier today, and @girlstuffnorp, @floating-in-the-blue, and @1mnobodywhoareyou got me thinking about Willex (as I often am). So here you guys go! Not edited at all, I'm sorry. It's late. Enjoy!

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Alex poofed into the museum, stumbling a little over a random plank of wood on the ground. Sure, he'd already checked here twice. But he had to find Willie somehow, and this just felt right. He hadn't found the skater on Sunset Boulevard, or at the park they'd met up at a couple of times before. And Alex knew better than to go anywhere the Ghost Club.

Now when it was too late.

But maybe there was a chance. Julie's plan might work. But they needed Willie to pull it off.

The guys had offered to help Alex look, but he'd turned them down. He had to do this on his own. And well, the last time he'd taken them to find Willie, it hadn't ended well.

So here he was, on his own, trying to follow the odd tugging in his chest that had led him to the skater in the past. But he just kept ending up here. And Willie wasn't-

"Alex?"

Alex nearly jumped out of his insubstantial skin at the voice and spun around to see Willie standing a few yards away, board clutched to his chest and a startled look on his face.

"Hey," Alex said, raising a hand awkwardly. He wasn't used to this uneasy tension between them. Willie was there, but he felt so much further away than he had before everything went down at the ghost club.

"Is everything okay?" Willie asked, taking a careful step closer.

"Yeah, yeah," Alex said quickly. "Or like... not any less okay than before."

Willie let out a relieved chuckle. Just one. Alex missed his full laugh. "That's... good. I think?"

"Yeah it is," Alex agreed, his eyes falling to the skateboard in Willie's hands, unable to meet his eyes and see the discomfort there. He hated that he'd caused that hurt, even if it wasn't on purpose. Then he remembered why he was here in the first place. "Julie sort of has a plan."

Willie's frown deepened. "What kind of plan?"

Alex took a deep breath. "A plan to play the Orpheum."

"Wait seriously?!" Willie exclaimed, the hopeful note in his voice giving Alex the courage to meet his eyes again.

There was too much happening behind the dark irises for Alex to decipher in an instant. But he knew there was hope. And worry. And sorrow. And suddenly it hit Alex square in the chest that if this worked, if they played the Orpheum and crossed over, then that would mean saying goodbye to Willie. For good.

"That's awesome, how are you pulling that off?" Willie continued. He came a step closer and the knot in Alex's chest loosened a bit.

Alex glanced around and spotted the bench they'd moved together the first time they came here. He nodded towards it, then sat down himself. Willie hesitated. Alex felt himself crack just a bit more. Willie had never put distance between them before Caleb. In fact, he'd always been crossing it, grabbing Alex's hand or bumping their knees together or shaking him by the shoulders. There wasn't any of that anymore.

But then Willie sat down, leaving a few inches of space between them, but closer nonetheless. Alex exhaled.

"So basically we're going to get the opening band to have some kind of tech issue this weekend," Alex began, "and then throw up our video in the producer's office right after they find out. No time to find a replacement? Well lucky for them, we're right there."

Willie laughed, a little closer to his normal one this time. "Julie is a genius!" he declared, pulling one knee up to his chest. Then he smirked. "What are you gonna do to the opener?"

Alex huffed out a nervous chuckle. "Therein lies the issue," he admitted. "We have yet to agree on anything that isn't going to cause physical damage to the band, will get them out enough, and we can actually do."

Willie nodded, expression turning thoughtful. He didn't say anything for a minute. Alex took the opportunity to check out the green eggs on his socks. Would it still be called sunny side up if the yolks weren't yellow?

But he also thought about what would happen to Willie, to them, if this worked. And what would happen if it didn't. Would Willie be okay without Alex? Would Caleb take his anger out on the skater over losing Sunset Curve? Would Willie miss him? Or would he forget he existed, just a tiny blip in his long afterlife? Alex knew he wouldn't be forgetting Willie any time soon, even if he ceased to exist. Maybe Reggie had a point about never forgetting your first ghost.

On the other hand, what would happen if he took Caleb's offer? If he stayed at the HGC, playing music he didn't love for someone who owned his soul for an eternity? It wouldn't be fun. But then they could stay together. Alex could keep Willie safe from the magician. They could dance together in the club and it wouldn't matter who could or couldn't see them. They could just be. Forever.

But that would mean losing Julie. And his freedom. And probably his friends, because there was no way Luke was going to take the bait. Reggie would be caught in the middle, but he'd probably stay with Luke and Julie. So Alex would have Willie, but he wouldn't have his friends, or his music, or his soul.

Was it bad that he was still tempted?

"Okay, I'm going to handle the opener," Willie announced, startling Alex from his thoughts. "Not sure how yet, but I'll get you guys on that fancy sign."

"You mean the marque?" Alex clarified.

"I thought that was a fancy French dude," Willie retorted. "Like that one guy in Hamilton."

Alex shrugged. "I have no idea what a Hamilton is, but I think it's the same word?"

Willie laughed again. "I need to teach you the ways of sneaking into Broadway shows," he teased. Then his face fell. "Or... I guess not," he added in a softer voice.

The ache in Alex's chest, almost more painful than the occasional jolts now, returned full force. "Yeah," he sighed. He bit the inside of his cheek. "Unless..."

Willie's eyes shot to his, but the severity in his gaze was an unexpected stab to Alex's soul. "No, no way," the skater said firmly. "You're not taking his deal. I promise... It's not worth it."

"But what about you," Alex burst out. "If we leave and Caleb finds out you helped us, even just a little bit, he'd destroy you! You said it yourself! But if I stay then-"

"No I'm not going to let you do that, Alex!" Willie cut him off, one hand latching onto his. "I made my choice, okay? It was a stupid one, yeah, but it's done. You haven't! You can cross over and not have to deal with any of this anymore! And if Caleb wants to destroy me for-for caring about you, then okay. I'm okay with that, I've made my peace with the fact that my afterlife is probably going to be ended because of him at some point anyways. At least you would be safe and free."

Alex wanted to cry. He wanted to pull Willie close and hide him away somewhere no one could ever hurt him again. He wanted to hold him and get as far away from him as possible and just sit here with him forever all at once.

"I just want you to be happy," Willie murmured, running out of steam. When Alex met his gaze again, there were tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "As long as you're okay, that's enough for me. I got to know you and be your... friend for a bit. I'm not going to regret that, even if it's the end for me. I'll be okay as long as you're safe."

Alex reached out with his free hand and cupped Willie's cheek. His thumb brushed away the first tear that slid from the skater's eyes. "I don't want to leave you," he admitted softly.

"Me either," Willie breathed. "But you have to."

"I know," Alex sighed. "I'm sorry."

Willie shook his head without dislodging Alex's hand. "No being sorry. It's just how life is sometimes."

"We're literally dead already," Alex pointed out wryly.

"Details details," Willie dismissed, squeezing his hand. "Just promise me that, whatever happens, you'll do everything you can to cross over."

Alex squeezed back. "I promise," he responded, his heart cracking down the middle.

And only a day later, he would be reminded of that promise as he stared across the Hollywood Ghost Club at Willie, leaning against the back wall, as he missed a beat in Caleb's song in favor of the one calling to him from outside. Willie's gaze met his and he nodded once. Go, he mouthed.

I promise, Alex mouthed back, before leaving the club behind and flying to Julie's side.

[all-thestories-aretrue]

Extraplaner chamber shackled to a tower 👀👀👀👀 i see you. I see you!! Patiently waiting for the tower revealing. Well not so patiently. I still think it would be cool if Caleb's other book was full of notes on his friends and their likes and dislikes that he implements into the tower. Definitely dont think thats canon but until I know what it is, it's canon in my heart.

[cher-writes]

Silver Screen / Silver Pole | Robert Sheehan x Reader (18+)

Summary: A night of celebration in a LA strip club takes an interesting and unexpected turn when a contrarian actor winds up offending the wrong stripper. But night is long and the possibilities are endless, where will it take them?

Word Count: 7.3k

CW: Mention of sexual harassment, Consensual slapping, NSFW smut

A/N: This one is surprisingly not bloody at all and the smut isn't wild either so like most everyone can read it. Although it's emotionally very heavy. So, get ready to feel some shit. Hopefully you'll enjoy.

Special thanks to @crisis-of-joy for being there for me the whole month I took to complete this emotionally taxing fic and also for being my kind beta reader & editor.

Burning on it’s way down, the third glass of whiskey finally gave her some life she desperately needed. Deafening music throbbed throughout her veins, drowning the club in the background. She wanted to drown with it too but she couldn’t, she was there to work and rent for the month was already due. The fourth glass was on the verge of meeting with her bitter mouth when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t drink so much, you’ll trip on the stage,” Coco practically shouted in her ear. Coco was the only friend she had in that goddamn place and It wasn’t a very rare occurrence that Coco had to drag her blackout drunk body out of the club. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say she had a problem. Considering that she was already on her third strike of the month and the third drink of the night, Coco knew better than to let her get drunk this early.

 “I can’t stay here and be sober at the same time,” she shouted back at Coco, “especially after...nevermind,” but decided against talking about it and instead focused her energy on finishing the fourth glass, which was gone just as quickly as the words stopped coming out of her mouth.

 She could read the concern on Coco's face and sense the questions brewing behind it as Coco spoke up, “I want to know what the fuck is up with you but I have to go now, Caleb came home from school hours ago, it’s pretty late and I have to cook him dinner.”

“What happened to Larry? Can’t he take care of the kid? He’s fucking jobless anyway.”

“He got in a bad fight again. I can barely afford Caleb’s school fees and now the medical bills.”

“If only you had divorced him, you wouldn’t need to worry about it.”

“And if only you had been less violent towards customers, you wouldn’t be on the verge of getting fired. But, here we are.”

She furrowed her brows at this sudden sharp stab of truth by Coco and dealt with it the only way she knew how to, by ordering another drink. Coco crossed her arms letting out a deep sigh and said, “Look, I'm only trying to help you, (y/n). Sam wanted me to go up. You see that group seating in the fifth VIP booth? Up there. They are celebs and celebrating something so, ya know, good money. I said no cause, as I said I gotta go home, but I convinced him to let you go up there. It was hard given your recent less-than-favorable behavior, but I managed to.” Coco snatched the already empty glass from her hand and continued, “So stop drinking, go up there and get that money. And for the love of God, behave yourself or this might be your last night here.”

Giving her hand a quick but tight squeeze, Coco got up then soon after disappeared into the crowd. She thought to herself about how a last night there wouldn’t be so bad if she could afford it, and wanted another drink immediately to kill that thought, but Coco's words haunted her ears. She looked over her shoulder to see three men sitting in the booth, laughing.

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Her head was in a violent swirl, vision blurry. She was way too drunk to be spinning around the pole, but she had an audience to entertain and had no one but herself to blame.

When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste, the song was thudding against her skull. Pulling herself together, she counted every second, waiting for the song to end. She could feel the eyes on her, sticking to every bit of her, just as invasive as it was the very first day yet, she couldn’t care less. She had to live through it if she wanted the money and she needed the money if she wanted to live. The room was dancing circles around her as the tips came flying in, she kept counting the seconds, sliding down the pole, and your knee socks.

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She was swaying dangerously on her way down from the stage. If the song didn’t end when it did, she would have thrown up without a shadow of a doubt. At that point, she didn’t even know how or what she danced, only the awful sickness in her stomach let her know that it was more than she could take.

She needed to chat up the men, try and convince them to buy a champagne room before the next song came on, which she feared was way too soon for her liking. Nevertheless she tried to steady herself but the big glass platforms messed with her earnest efforts, nausea kicking her in the stomach once again, letting her know of her limits. 

She didn’t ever really look at the men who sat in front of her, leering at her, they all looked the same, smelt the same and talked the same. So she followed the same old routine, bending down just enough to give them a view up her tits. Pressing her arms closer, she slurred, “What are we celebrating, gentlemen?”

 She absolutely hated how she sounded pandering to men, two pitches higher. “My friend over here landed a role in a Spielberg film!” the middle one spoke up and pointed to the one sitting on the right side. The one in question grinned in response and repulsion licked the back of her neck at the sight of that. Yet she needed to please him, “That’s amazing! I’m sure I’ll be seeing your face on the billboards everyday now while driving,” she said and fantasized about having enough money to burn down all the billboards in LA and maybe LA with it too.

 “Hell yeah you will!” the one in the middle spoke up and broke her reverie so she pretended he was supporting her fantasy instead. “Oh please! Speak for yourself!” the one on the right perked up in his seat and continued, “He’s literally working with Fincher AND he got engaged!”. The one in the middle gave a revolting smirk at the very humble revelation of his accomplishment and it was enough to turn her stomach or maybe it was the alcohol, she couldn’t really decipher.

 “Oh really?” she looked at the man, tilted her head and said, “And you came to a stripclub to celebrate your engagement?”, her face deadpan. Notes of contempt stuck out like thorns from her voice, making her sound way more intense than she intended to.

 He tensed up visibly at her sudden razor-edged tone and, even though she didn't want to, she had to ease the situation. I can’t piss off these bastards again, she kept repeating to herself like a mantra. “Boys will be boys!” she said, not being able to think of something better that wasn’t inherently insulting, and laughed the most disgusting laugh of her life. If she could she would pour gasoline down her throat just for uttering those words.

 She couldn’t bear to linger at that conversation point anymore so she turned her attention to the man sitting on the far left. He looked distant and foreign, staring but not really looking at her. There was a peculiar absence behind his distinct green eyes, which she would even call beautiful under different circumstances. And that, something about that absence, made her want to zero in on him.

“And what about you? Did you win an Oscar or something?” mockery ringed clear in her voice, which brought his attention back to the presence. Startled slightly, he straightened his posture while saying, “No, not really... not yet at least,” he smiled sheepishly and continued, “I’m just here with them”.

“Come to think about it, I’ve never really seen you anywhere,” she said without thinking too much. In fact, she didn’t really pay enough attention to how he looked to recognize him even if she did. 

Something intense flashed his eyes for a brief second. She couldn’t quite put her fingers on what it was but she could feel the energy shift very quickly between them.

“Oh I’ve been in things but I’d be surprised if you did see any of them,” his voice now stripped of the delicacy it previously held. She could feel the air between them getting unusually heavy, his words penetrating through her skin a bit too effortlessly, a bit too swiftly that it was unsettling.   

“And why exactly would you be surprised?”

“You know...cause people like you don’t usually watch the kind of films I do.”

“What do you mean by ‘people like me?’”

“You know...people of your...stature,” he trailed off. Blood rushed the back of her neck as soon as the words hit her ears. She could feel her vision burning, a hot wave washed the crown of her skull, something unruly building at the base of her being. Clenching her jaw so as not to let it take over her, she said, “Stature huh? Fancy! I reckon from your accent that, wherever the hell you’re from, people get a kick out of looking down on others with such wispy language.”

 She could sense the same unruly substance dancing behind his chest, but he was far better at keeping it on a leash.

“I wasn’t looking down upon you. What I was merely getting at is that some people aren’t cut for apprehending particular types of films,” he sounded snarky but calm, the type of calm that’s tainted with scorn, which only sent ripples of rage down her ribs.

  “Oh so you think just because I’m a stripper by profession that I wouldn’t understand your low-budget dumb indie movies?” she was getting visibly worked up now. Traces of her seductive posture vanished long ago but there was a new hostile energy flowing through her stance.

“I didn’t say that -”

“No, of course you didn’t say that, you only meant that. You meant what you think and every one of you think that we aren’t people with brains and emotions. No, no, we’re just sacks of meat to ogle at in exchange of money, and then grope when you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“I think you're trying to put words in my mouth, this is -”

“God! you think you’re fucking better than me, don’t you? You contrarian little shit!” she could feel it in her bones. She knew what was coming. There were people behind, or maybe beside, her, trying to talk to her, probably. She could hear no one, not even the previously unbearable blaring music. She had tunnel vision and it was fixed on him. The air she breathed chafed her nose. Her nerves thumped as her heart leapt at irregular rapid intervals.

  “Excuse me! but i neve -” he said as his body went alert. Posture anticipating something violent, flight or fight.

  “You think you're better than me because I'm a stripper and you got enough money to buy me?” her voice was icy as she spoke, “You LA people are all the fucking same. You get a little money in your pockets and you think you own the world and anyone who isn’t jerking off to your pretentious bullshit isn’t worthy enough to deserve basic fucking decency. Huh is that it?” she quickly jumped on top of him, straddling him.

He was frozen under her as she leaned in and murmured, “Well then allow me to show you”, she pulled away, her left hand clutching his shoulder as right fist rose the air, “HOW FUCKING BETTER THAN ME YOU ARE!” then her fist crashed on the side of his mouth with all the force she could muster, releasing a knot built in her chest since she checked in with the manager in the evening. Hot, sweltering adrenaline was coursing through her veins.

 The impact resulted in him burying his face in his right shoulder so she grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced him to face her. His lips were starting to swell up so she decided to help it. His eyes went blank as her fist met his face once more.

 Involuntarily, her hand was raising in the air again when she felt a strong pull from behind. The security guard, twice her size, yanked her away from him. People gathered around them staring at her, the music stopped to her relief. The guard twisted her arms behind her back, enough to leave bruises that’ll sting for days to come. She couldn't move, her sight went hazy yet she felt this strange cool serenity soothe her tensed muscles. His friends were crowding him, probably consoling him. She could neither hear them nor make out their faces from her almost closed eyelids. She was pretty sure she was falling asleep in the guard’s painful hold until she heard a certain voice and the hair at the back of her neck stood up. 

“What the fuck! She’s at it AGAIN? Sir, I'm so sorry -” Sam, the manager’s voice pierced her ears as he rushed into the booth. As he was talking to them, commotion rose in the background. She could feel blind rage beating with every thump of her heart. If it wasn’t for the guard holding her in place, she would have skinned him alive by now. She was struggling to free herself when Sam turned to her and said, “You! That’s it!” pointing his left index at her. “I’ve had just about enough of your drunkass assaulting fine gentlemen. You’re fired. Get out right now! And be grateful we’re not reporting you to the police.”

Suddenly everything went quiet in her head. She smiled, nothing behind her gaze. Grinning ear to ear like a maniac, she said, “I’m fired? Aww what’s gonna happen to you now Sam?”. She cooed, ''Whose tits and ass are you gonna grab from now on? Stella? I wonder if she’ll compare to me though.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sam almost hissed at her.

“Ohhh right! Of course, you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she said while still tussling with whatever little strength she had left to loosen herself from the guard’s excruciating grip. “You don’t know anything about how you sexually harassed me day after day, how your disgusting, slimy little hands grabbed my body against my will at every chance that you got. You knew how much I need the money from this job and you used that against me to keep me silent, threatening to fire me every time I made even a sound. But guess what fucker? I’m fired now! And I’m gonna tell everyone about HOW YOU TRIED TO -”

“Take her to the staff room!” Sam cut her off, “NOW!” And, as soon as the words left Sam's mouth, the guard put his palm over her mouth and started dragging her back. The hand over her mouth muffled her screams and she glanced at the man, now with swollen lips, looking at her with eyes filled with, what looked like, concern.

As she was getting dragged, she finally managed to sink her teeth into the guard’s palm resulting in him withdrawing his hand just enough to give her a small window of time to scream at Sam: “YOU MOTHERFUCKER I’LL BE BACK AND I’LL PEEL THE SKIN OFF OF YOUR SCALP FUCKING SON OF A BITCH I’LL -” Before she could finish, her voice got cut off again and she faded into the dimly lit passageway at the back of the floor.

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The cherry of her fifth cigarette shone brightly in the shivering cold as the smoke drifted up in the air and sluggishly faded away. Mouth agape, her eyes meticulously followed the faint trails left after their disappearance. She wondered where they went, where she’ll go. If it wasn’t this late, and the water wasn’t so cold, maybe she could have gone for a swim in the ocean. If the water wasn’t so cold maybe she would have let it swallow her even. She was calculating the probable temperature of the hypothetical water she’d marry someday when the sound of slow approaching footsteps entered her field of perception. She would have preferred to ignore it but the, somehow already familiar, voice spoke up, “Hey erm...” and left her no choice but to look. And there he was, the foreign man with the swollen lip, looking culpable. There were distinct imprints of guilt in his voice as he continued, “I saw you across the parking lot…um I was actually just leaving with my friends,” he pointed at a black Mercedes parked at the far end of the lot. “They’re waiting in the car anyway so I decided -”

“So you decided now that she’s fired from being a stripper, she's probably a hooker! Lemme go ask the price she’s selling at,” her gestures and voice was comical, “you know, dude if you’ve got a kink of getting beaten up non-consensually then you’re really good at getting it cause I might just be up for round two.”

He stared at her for a good few seconds with a perplexed face, as if trying to process her stream of logic. When he started speaking, he sounded genuinely hurt, “No! Jesus Christ I came to apologize. Can you just not be defensive for one second? I’m not a monster ya know!”

His sincerity caught her off guard. She had about five thousand ways of dealing with assholes prepared and ready to go but an actually decent person? Now that was rocky territory for her.

“Well, uh, that’s a first. Go ahead I guess?” she shrugged her shoulders.

“I apologize for saying what I said back in the club. I shouldn’t have insinuated that you aren’t intelligent enough to understand my films just because of your choice of profession. It was really shitty of me to say that, and nothing can justify it either. And I feel like I caused you to be fired, that’s also weighing heavily on my soul and I don't know how to make it up to you. Just, I hope that you can forgive me and, again, I apologize, earnestly. Please tell me how I can make it up to you,” he said and looked at her with a rueful expression.

She was at a loss of words. It had been years since anyone apologized to her, let alone that sincerely. After a considerable amount of silence, she gathered her fragmented thoughts and spoke up, “Whoa, whoa man, chill. You didn’t murder my family or anything so calm down,” she held up her open palms, the cigarette almost at it’s end. “Apology accepted, okay? And don’t feel bad, I would have been fired sooner or later given my questionable behavior ever since I joined, so it’s not on your conscience. And I’m sorry too,” her index and middle finger holding the cigarette gestured at his lips, “for, um, punching you so let’s call it an even.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “yeah okay,” sounding clearly more relaxed than before.

“You know it’s a miracle how long it took for me to get fired,” she mused, “oh no it wasn’t a miracle it was sexual harassment, ah I see now. Wonder what Sam saw in me though that was worth not firing me for this long even though I pulled so much shit,” she took a long drag of her weary cigarette. “Maybe I've got a talent for getting harassed or something...who knows?”

His face tensed up again as he said, “That’s...not right,” eyes pooling with the same worried look as before.

“I was joking, chill. Humor is an excellent way to deal with most everything really, especially trauma.”

“I am sorry for what you had to go through, it’s gut-wrenching. Can’t you lodge a complaint to the police?”

“Going to the pigs? As a sex worker? Who just got fired for being drunk and punching a man in front of many eye witnesses? Now that was humor, you’re quite good at it actually.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Besides, that’s like one of the first things you gotta learn to put up with if you’re working in this business. As unfair and grim as it is, men, no actually, people don’t see sex workers as human beings and I’m just too obstinate to accept that simple fact, or maybe too much of a pussy, depending on where one’s priorities lie.”

“I…don’t know what to say.”

“There is nothing to say.”

 It was just setting in for her how beautiful he actually was. His crestfallen face was graced by two stunning green eyes, lush unruly curls sticking to his forehead, sharp jawline kissed with a  scruffy goatee and the swollen lip throwing off the symmetry just right to make him look captivating, to say the least. In the chilly December ambience his face was a soothing sight to her eyes, his sweet voice kind to her drudging ears, his presence warm to her existence. And she wanted to hold onto the warmth, just for a bit longer.

   “You said you wanted to make it up to me, right?” she said as the cigarette fell on the ground then died out under the crushing embrace of her cruel heels.                         

------------

“Well I'm Ro -” he said leaning against the passenger seat window, sitting half facing her.

“If you’re trying to say your name then don’t,” she cut him off quickly without averting her gaze from the road.

“Why?” he asked, staring at her intently yet without any emotion in particular.

“‘Cause it doesn’t matter. It’s better if we don’t know each other’s name. Names individualize people and that’s not necessary for tonight,” she answered nonchalantly as the neon lights of a passing by road sign illuminated her face and then faded into the past just as nonchalantly. 

“Okay.”

She could feel his eyes on her, but it didn’t bother her, it wasn’t tainted. There was this unusual tranquility in the atmosphere of the car, this obscure but consistent serene rhythm. She felt a bizarre comfort in his presence and she could drive like this forever, on a never-ending road spiraling towards heaven or winding down pandemonium or just dissolving into the ether, with him sitting lazily on the side.

    “Do you ever feel like that?” he spoke up absentmindedly, breaking into her almost fever dream.

“Huh?”

“The song, I feel like that often.”

She didn’t realize the radio was on, playing at quite a significant volume. She wondered if he had turned it on at some point and how long she was driving for without being present mentally.

This place will be the end of me. Take me out, LA. Take me out of LA, the voice from the radio filled the car to the brim.

 “I don’t feel like that, I know that. I know I'll die here, kinda intrinsically...do you hate this place?”

“No, not hate. I just feel like I don't fit in here. It’s the way of life, it’s quite significantly different to what I was used to. The people and the city, it all feels hollow sometimes and every now and then i catch myself yearning for what I left behind me.”

“I see. Beautiful people and their beautiful problems.”

    Silence fell in the car again. Except for the voice through the radio, Well this place is never what it seems.

 “You don’t have to make small talk, you know. I'm fine with silence,” she said, finally looking at him for a brief second.

“Oh I know,” he was looking right into her eyes, unruffled. “I wasn’t making small talk, I just wanted to talk to you. That’s all.”

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The bleak fluorescent tube above buzzed in solidarity as the fatigued clock on the chipped convenience store wall dragged its hands and finally managed to tick at 2 am. The attendant was leaning on the counter, trying not to fall asleep when her voice echoed in the store: “$20 on pump 2.”

“I’ll pay”, he cut in, reaching for his wallet. “Okayyy...” she replied, narrowing her eyes at his benevolence and looked around the store which was significantly emptier that other nights. She closed her eyes for a second and the memories flashed behind her lids. She used to come here frequently, around this time, with someone when everything in her world was right, just right enough for her to not to seek out falling stars every night and wish for death over and over again. When she opened her eyes a shiny pack of Parliaments caught her gaze and she quickly gestured behind the counter, “Since you’re paying, can I get a pack of those also?”

“Sure”

“I remember surviving on those alone while writing my thesis papers,” she said wistfully, “good times.”

“You went to college?”

“University actually, but yeah.”

“Good lord.”

“But I had to drop out so I couldn’t complete my Master’s in Biochemistry.”

“Why?”

“Life.”

“I flunked out my first year of college so you did way more than I did in that regard.”

“Welp, look where that got me.”

“Don’t say that!”

“What?” she scoffed.

“Anything else?” the attendant interjected, visibly tired and clearly annoyed at their conversation.

She swiftly grabbed a lighter, “Can I get this too?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“That’ll be all,” she tossed the lighter towards the attendant and continued, “You’re clearly doing way better than me in life.”

“Are you being sarcastic?” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

“No. I meant that seriously. I’m the one who fucked up my life and that’s a fact. Say, how did you know what you wanted to do?”

“That’ll be $30”, the attendant interjected again.

“I don’t know. I started acting as a kid and it just seemed right. It’s all I've known really and I can't see myself as anything else,” he said as he passed the money to the attendant.

“I envy that.”

“I do sometimes ponder what I would have been if not an actor.”

“Wondering too much isn’t good,” she grabbed the goods and shoved them in her coat pocket, “It might make someone into me.”

She stopped right before the glass door, pulled the lighter out and flicked it on, “I’ll use it later,” she leaned in close to him with a frivolous smirk and whispered, “to burn this city down.”

He chuckled at her sudden gaiety, “I’d gladly assist.”

Pushing the door open, she continued as he followed behind her, “Did you see the way that dude rolled his eyes to you? He definitely thought you were with a blabbering hooker and to be honest, my make up probably didn’t help either. Oh well it's not like -” her voice slowly evaporated into the gloomy gas-station lights. 

------------

“So beautiful,” he said with awe looking over the vast and apparently endless ocean which the full, eternal moon bathed with its silver glory.

She clutched at her coat sleeves as the chilly wind sent shivers down her body and said, “I know right? I’ve always found the sea to be peaceful during this time of the night.”

“It’s lovely, I’ve never been to this beach before.”

“It’s my favorite spot actually, I used to come here pretty often,” melancholia dripping from her voice. She paused for a little while as if going over a mental checklist and said, “let’s go sit down there,” and pointed towards a vague place in the distance. 

They walked down the beach for a bit side by side, knuckles occasionally brushing against each other’s, making them want to hold hands, feel the warmth of another being. But the hesitance of the yet to be known, the uncertainty of a nameless stranger clouded their minds and prevented them from reaching out.

She stopped, sat down and gestured to him to do the same by tapping the cold sand beside her. He sat a bit too far for her liking so she huddled up closer to him saying, “You blaze right?”

“Sure.”

“Cool,” she said, taking out a small bag from an inside pocket of her coat, “keep an eye out for me while I roll it.”

They sat in silence as she rolled a joint meticulously. The waves kept crashing on the shore as if fulfilling some ancient duty. Wind rustled through the empty beach. Sand glimmered sporadically under the warm light of the moon, creating a transcendental atmosphere.

He sighed and thought out loud, interrupting the intoxicating stillness of the night, “Where do we go from here?”

“Other than plotting the murder of Sam, I don’t know about me,” she replied without looking up from the task at hand, “Don’t really wanna think about it tonight. That’s why I took you along with me. I wanted someone to keep me distracted from my thoughts and I had no one to go to...then you came to apologize, like my knight in shining armor.”

He smiled wryly and said, “I see.”

“What about you? What are you gonna do about your not fitting in or what was it?”

“I don’t know either. I just miss my people. I’m not meant for here, I think.”

“So can’t you go back there? To your home I assume?”

“I can...”

“Then go. Why the fuck would you stick around if you had the option to go back?”

“Maybe.”

“Huh! I wish I had a home to go back to too.”

She could see him from the corner of her eyes, clenching his knees tight with his fingers at her words, bringing them closer to his chest. She looked up to see him staring at her with his big, beautiful, hurt-puppy eyes.

“Did that make you sad or something?” she asked, almost amused. 

“Yeah...yeah it did.”

His apparent empathy for a literal stranger who also punched him not so long ago struck her as odd and oddly enticing. He looked unreal to her in the strange moonlight, as if a remote but vivid memory. She felt as though if she reached out and touched him, he’d turn to dust and drift off with the wind. Those intense eyes and his fey beauty were getting too much for her to bear so she averted her gaze towards the ocean and said, “There’s no use for your or anyone’s sadness. You see, sadness changes nothing. Unless you can start a capital R revolution tomorrow, everything will be the same. It’ll be the same day with slight variations over and over again, things will repeat and go on and on and on until one day humanity just goes poof somehow and then the universe will go on as if we never even happened. There’s no significance of our lives, there’s no point in feeling sad about anything in this set up. One must always imagine Sisyphus happy.”

“That’s quite pessimistic, isn’t it?”

“Kinda absurdist actually, but It’s hard not to be pessimistic or defensive, when you have to lead a life like mine.”

“I understand.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do, “Glamour Boy,’” she said, licking the rolling paper.

He put his hand over his chest and feigned being hurt which made her laugh; a clear, hearty laughter. The beach echoed with a faint sound of the laughter of two stray souls as he joined in.

The joint hanged from her lips, sensual and reckless like an erotic magazine model, burning bright as she took a long drawn-out drag.

“Say, do you think the water is cold?” she said, passing the joint to him.

He took in a drag, inhaling some of her used up smoke with it too, tasting her cheap but obscenely sweet fruity lip gloss at the filter tip, “Yeah...very much so”.

She huddled up even closer to feel the heat of his body as he passed the joint back to her. Taking in another drag, she leisurely put her head on his shoulder.

The sedating smoke sank into their lungs as the sand anchored them from floating off in the elating static of the enveloping darkness.

------------

“Is this it?” she said, pulling up to a posh apartment complex, something she wouldn’t be able to afford even after paying off her debts. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied absently and unbuckled his seatbelt. 

She was looking ahead at the road, expecting him to get out of the car, but he sat in silence. She looked at him and saw him laid back on the seat as if being consumed by it, tracing the edge of the left air vent softly with his fingers. He sighed and said, still looking at his busy fingers: “I feel strange and fucking awful.”

“It happens sometimes after coming down a high.”

“It’ll be a pain in the arse going to bed feeling like this.”

“I know,” her eyes travelled down the flow of his posture, giving birth to an urge of some aboriginal origin in her loins, “but you don’t have to.” 

He turned his head towards her slowly, lethargy clear in his slow breathing pattern, “What do you mean?”

“Push your seat back.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He furrowed his brows, alarmed by her sudden gratuitous command. He looked at her; motionless as if not even breathing awaiting his compliance and her eyes glinted with expectancy. He pushed his seat back, as far as it could go then parted his lips to say something but before the words could get out, she virtually jumped on top then sat astride him.

 A deathly stillness engrossed the car as her previous bellicose energy returned to the atmosphere, only this time rather ardent in nature. His heart, instantaneously racing, almost audible to her. 

“You know,” she said taking off her top, “dopamine is a hormone and neurotransmitter that’s an important part of your brain’s reward system, and it can elevate your mood and make you feel really good.”

Eyes wide with surprise, he struggled to keep his gaze fixed on her face as she unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingertips snaked up and down his smooth chest as if caressing a sumptuous painting one is not allowed to touch. She felt his taut muscle tighten at her touch, veins kindled with a hot rush pulsing under. Burying her face in the hollow of his neck, she felt the heat of his body as she pressed her chest against his. His breathing picked up it’s pace even more at the contact with her flushed skin.

“Do you ever get lonely?” she spoke up letting her lips skim over his bare shoulder.

“Terribly,” his voice breathy as he placed his hands on her hips hesitantly, not possessively, but affectionately.

“I do too.”

“What do we do about it?”

“Maybe we don’t do anything.”

“Maybe.” he said resting his right cheek against her head, “or maybe we keep each other company.”

“But for how long?”

“However long we need to.”

A mirthless laugh rippled from her lips then through his skin. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, curious green mixed with an unfamiliar kind of sorrow, a sorrow too costly for her. “Lust and attraction shut off the prefrontal cortex of the brain, which includes rational behavior,” she said, knocking softly on his temple.

“Makes sense.”

Cupping his face, she stroked his swollen lips with her rough thumbs, making him wince in response. The purple bruise steadily forming on the side of his mouth marred his flawless complexion yet his allure only enhanced. Her thumb rubbed on the bruise with reckless abandon, his flinches testifying to that. Withdrawing her hands from his face, she left a light peck on the bruise and said, “Slap me.”

“What?”

“Slap me, come on, I'm giving you a chance to get back at me for earlier.”

“No!”

“Prude!”

“Hey! I just don’t want to hurt you, especially not as revenge or what not,” he sounded genuinely offended.

She leaned in, “But I want to get hurt, silly,” her lips ghosting over his as she whispered, “Endorphins are our body’s natural pain reducer and it so happens to increase when we engage in reward-producing activities, such as eating, working out, or having sex.” She pulled away and continued, “So hit me. Hard.” His adam’s apple bobbed up then down as he searched at her face, as if trying to find some sort of sign. His fingers dug in her hips, indicating the upcoming crude impact. Her palms laid flat against his chest as his left hand rose then crashed against her face. Her fingers curled in response as she gasped weakly, eyes shut closed but the tensity clear in the lines on her eyelids and forehead. 

“Ah... that was good,” she said as if talking to herself, caressing her cheek. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring with uncertain eyes, the doubt readable in the way he bit his lips. 

“Just like that, once more,” her firm voice ringed in the vehicle. His hand cruelly collided once again with her face, leaving her face warm and red. 

“Good boy,” she cooed as the sharp sting eddied on her cheek and then through her whole body, easing her off some unknown yet intrinsic discomfort. Her chest pounded in sync to his as she spoke up, “Do it for me once again, won’t you?”

Pressing his teeth even deeper into his lips, he struck her once again, with as much strength as he had. A white light flashed before her eyes, her ears ringed as she sat in silence for a bit. When her vision became clear, she held his face between her palms. Leaning closer, she rested her temple against his and murmured, “Such a good boy.”

Sweat dripped down as her nose grazed up the side of his neck, she could feel him growing hard through his pants. She buried her face in his curls and breathed in. He smelt sugary, sweet to the extent of almost making her nauseous. She whispered against his ear, “You’ve got a boner...it turned you on this much to hurt me?”

“It’s, um, n-not really that part it’s the -” he stammered in embarrassment.

 “Ugh men,” she cut him off and rolled her eyes playfully. “But since we’ve got a situation at hand, and you’ve been so good to me, I think you deserve some relief for yourself,” she said, tugging at his waistband. To which he responded eagerly, elevating his hips just enough so she could slip his pants off as much as possible. His head sank back into the headrest as her hands wrapped around his cock. Her hand gilded up and down his length as her other hand ran through his hair, pulling lightly. Resting his forehead on her shoulder, he quivered and moaned softly as she lovingly yet mercilessly worked on him. His breath hitched sharply as she stroked the tip of his cock with her thumb, making him groan and twitch under her touch. She was about to pick up the pace when he grabbed her wrist abruptly. “Wait!” he rasped, “I wanna...feel you.”

He panted, trying to catch his breath and said, “Let’s take this inside, there might be people around.”

“Why? Are you afraid of getting photographed with a hooker by the paparazzi, Mr. Actor?"

“No”, he answered, the same hurt as earlier could be heard in his voice, the type of hurt when one is misunderstood by someone they love, “I just - I just want it to be nice.”

“Let’s not make it too nice lest you fall in love with me,” she said sternly. “Besides, you should be more concerned about getting STDs. There should be some condoms in the glove box and also tissues for later.”

He brought his face closer to hers, looked at her lips and said, “You’ve got such a mean mouth, you know that?”

“And you like it?”

“Perhaps”, he replied then kissed her, deeply. Holding her face in his head, he bit her lips which made her moan in his mouth. After running out of breath she pulled away, still tasting his saliva on her tongue as he reached behind her and rifled through the glove compartment. Having found what he wanted, he turned on the radio then returned his focus to her; she was hiking up her dress and awkwardly slipping off her panties in the short space.

Heavy bass filled the car, I wanna be your vacuum cleaner breathing in your dust, as the sky started to light up with shades of azure and tangerine. Her tongue blended with his as she took his cock in her. Their bodies pressed and flushed against each other as a steady rhythm flowed through them. Her nails scratched his nape, as he kissed her neck, nibbling at her collarbone. Her head shot back as he thrust up into her, frantic and keen. His groans muffled in her chest, her moans melting into his hair as their hips clashed against one another.

Maybe I just wanna be yours.

I wanna be yours.

------------   

The sparkling rays of the breaking dawn illuminated his face as he cleaned himself off and got dressed. She marveled from the driver’s seat at the magnificence of the sight of him in afterglow. There was something in him, something innate, that made him stand out from anyone she ever came across. He was made for the screen, he was made to shine, and she wondered whether or not he’ll remember her afterwards. It was for the better if he didn’t, she thought to herself, as this was probably one of the lowest points in his life, while that night was most definitely one of the highlights of hers. The sheer dichotomy was glaring at her soul when he spoke up, bringing her attention back to the present, “I was wondering if you’d like to -”

“Look if you want my name or number, then that’s just not gonna happen,” she said with a sigh, “It’s the oxytocin flooding your brain. Increased levels of oxytocin facilitate attachment and bonding and shit so, like, don’t be fooled.”

“But it’s not that, I feel a connection between us...something I haven’t felt with anyone here before.”

He averted his eyes from her and looked out the window. His hand lingered on the door handle for a second before he stepped out of the car. Turning his back towards the car, he walked into the apartment complex, without saying anything further. Her foot pressed on the accelerator, as the car drove past the buildings. A Parliament washed out the leftover taste of him in her mouth as she rolled down the window to let the nauseously sweet scent dissipate into the cold morning air. 

“It is that. Believe me, I know. There is nothing between us. Whatever connection you feel is your hormones doing bullshit things.”

“You’re just evading me”

“I’m not. I do actually know. Okay, for instance you feel really tired and sleepy right now, right?”

“Yeah”

“That’s the parasympathetic nervous system down-regulating your body and a shit load of vasopressin coursing through you”

“But that could also be because we stayed up all night and got high and just had sex”

“Why don’t you understand? It’s all chemicals, everything! There is nothing called love and whatever the fuck people feel is just their chemicals doing somersaults. There is nothing between us, we don’t know each other. There can be nothing either, look at the circumstances. People like you shouldn’t have to do anything with people like me unless it requires a monetary transaction.”

“But i can help, with whatever you’re dealing with”, he said reaching to place his hand over hers, “we can help each other”

“and what exactly do you think i’m dealing with?, she asked, withdrawing her hand, eyes narrowed at him.

“I don’t know yet”

“Exactly. You don’t know anything. I’m not some sad little girl who went to college then got depressed but in a sexy way so maybe she did drugs or whatever and dropped out and now strips for fucking aesthetic reasons probably. No honey, I’m involved with shit that can drag you down faster than a meth withdrawal and my life is a living testimony of that, take my word for it. So, go get some rest. Sleep out your saviour complex and live out your promising life when you wake up.”

[thedragonemperess]

JATP Big Bang Fic

Title: A Job On The Other Side

Artist: @bowtiesareavenged

Cheerleader: @flynn-flynnagan

Art Link: Here!

Tag List: @angelwiththeblue-box @almightygrasshopper @strangeradventures @nyxie75 @beansisarat7 @tronagon @welcome-to-gaytown @jatpbigbang

Summary: An AU where Julie gets a job at the HGC instead of the boys losing their stamps. While Luke comes up with a break-out plan, Julie finds out that Caleb isn't what he makes himself out to be.

Warnings: Suicidal Thoughts and Soul Stealing

Ships: There's some light Juke, Willex, and Rayleb, but nothing strong enough that it should be tagged as such

Notes: This took a really big turn from what I originally wanted it to be but it came out pretty well in the end! And hey, it isn't half bad! I wrote the last, like, 3,000 words today because I didn't have time to finish it at any other time, so a lot of it is unedited. I'm sorry for that, but I hope you enjoy, anyway!

Luke walked up to Julie and looked her in the eye, a million emotions running through all four of them. The jolts were too much, they were fading completely. Playing the Orpheum, something that they had all worked so hard for, ended up not being their unfinished business.

“No music is worth making, Julie, if it’s without you.”

“If that’s the case, then maybe I’ve been going about this all wrong.”

Julie whipped around, Caleb now standing behind her.

“You. You were the one that did this to them!” she yelled, no longer caring about if anyone else heard.

“Yes, yes, I know, I’m evil. But I have…..an offer,” he stated, stepping closer to her.

Julie stood her ground, looking up to him in order to keep eye contact.

“If they won’t perform without you, why don’t you all join me?”

“....What do you mean?”

Alex pulled himself up and leaned back against the piano, clutching his stomach with his right hand. “Don’t listen to him, he’s trying to trick you.”

Caleb ignored him and went on. “You get an afterschool job at the Hollywood Ghost Club and perform with them. Julie and the Phantoms can still exist, you just perform at my club on the side. So what do you say?”

Julie looks back over her shoulders to look at the boys. Reggie was still on the floor, not able to gather enough energy to move, Alex was leaning back over the piano in pain, and Luke was swaying slightly, standing up. She looked back up to Caleb.

“So they won’t disappear?”

Caleb shook his head.

“And you won’t come after any of our friends and family?”

“If that’s what you wish for.”

Julie hesitated to do anything else, but nodded.

“Deal.”

Caleb stuck out his hand and tilted his head slightly. “Shake on it?”

“No!”

Julie turned around completely to face the boys and Caleb retracted his hand.

“He’ll use his stamp on you, too. That’s how he gave it to us.”

Julie looked back to Caleb and glared.

“You never said anything about not being able to use my stamp,” he acknowledged, shrugging.

“We’ll work something out some other time, but for now, can you just stop their jolts for good? Please?” she gestured to the boys, panic starting to drip into her voice.

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He waved his hand and the boys’ jolts stopped, forcing them to stand up straight. As Julie ran over to them, Caleb vanished.

That was a month ago. Now Julie was walking down the busy street alone, holding a white pair of dress pants, dress shirt, and black blazer over her right arm and a pair of knee high, black, heeled boots in her left hand. Things had gotten busier, yes, but she could handle it. Flynn hasn’t stopped bothering her about this and keeps going on about how it was a stupid thing to do, but what was she supposed to do? If she didn’t make the deal with Caleb, the boys would have faded from existence, and she couldn’t live with that fact knowing that she could have stopped it.

The HGC was open 24 hours with different performances based on the day of the week and time. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays Julie and the boys would perform. Ray was a little confused on what this place even was, but after a quick explanation from the boys (specifically, Alex, because even though he may suck at lying, the others were way worse), he was fine with it. (“My friend’s uncle owns this incredibly exclusive club. It’s for really rich people only. He thought he would give our band a chance.”) He worried about her not having time for everything, but she assured him that it would be fine, and for the most part, they were. Things got a little hectic at times, but the boys and Flynn were able to help her through it.

Something that was great about working at the HGC was most of the other workers were performers, through and through. They all had different passions and talents. For every singer, there was a dancer, a magician, instrumentalist, acrobat, and more. Everyone was really welcoming, making it a really nice environment overall.

Caleb wasn’t half bad either. Yeah, he was a pretty terrible person, and she still hated him, but he was a good role model, all things considered. Or at least, that’s what she told herself. This entire situation could have been much better, should have been much better, but it wasn’t. Life didn’t go their way, but it was still better than it could have been. There were bright sides. The band’s popularity has grown exponentially, the boys can be made visible, Willie was freed (he still works at the HGC, though), and everything was looking up.

Julie looked around, making sure that no one was looking in her direction, before getting closer to the fence of the HGC. Just before the gate, there was a small opening. Reaching it, she ducked down, getting as low to ground as possible without getting her uniform dirty. Well, it wasn’t really a uniform, she was allowed to wear whatever she wanted as long as it was black and white. After getting through to the other side and brushing herself off, she looked around one more time. Finding that no one was watching, she turned to run to the back of the building.

The Hollywood Ghost Club was the most busy on weekends, so Julie had to try extra hard not to bump into or walk through anyone. The HGC was private property, and the events that went down there weren’t exactly scientifically possible (or legal). After she made it past the gates, multiple people appeared out of nowhere. There was something about the place that made anyone on the property, once inside the gate, became invisible to anyone outside of it, but it didn’t stop her from double checking, just in case. People wearing fancy dresses, some in colorful glitter, others in black and white, of all different fabrics, lengths, and shades. People in suits walked alongside the people in dresses, some more flamboyant than others. A lot of people here lacked creativity, which Julie had learned to decipher as other lifers. If the Hollywood Ghost Club has taught her anything, it’s to never be dull.

Lightly jogging, Julie swerved around the people, not wanting to figure out who was a ghost and who was a lifer. She looked down to the lavender, sparkly watch on her wrist, which read 4:55. Picking up her pace, she made her way backstage.

“Hey guys,” Julie waved to the others.

It was still early, so no one else was there. Luke was sitting on a small table that was supposed to be for props (the variety of performances in this place is insane). Reggie was laying down in a chair, his head hanging back over one of the arm rests while his feet hung over the other. Alex was sitting down the right way in a chair next to Reggie, messing with his drumsticks on his left arm rest. Willie sat across from him, his chair backwards so that his legs were around the back and his arms were crossed on top of the back, which he rested his head on.

“Hey, Julie!” Luke exclaimed, pushing himself off the table.

“Hey, Luke!” She looked around him to the others. “Hey, guys!”

“Hey, Julie,” they all said in unison.

“So, um,” Luke started, lowering his voice, “I have a new song I wanted you to look at. I only have the first verse down and I wanted some of your insight.”

Julie smiled up at him. He was bouncing, his eagerness clear on his face. He was almost like a puppy, with how much energy he had.

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to check it out, just let me change first.”

“Got it.”

Julie gave a small wave and then turned down a hall, looking for a bathroom. Luke watched her leave before heading back to his spot on the table.

“It’s terrible how she’s limited as to what she can wear. If she could wear anything, she’d be the best looking person in this place,” Luke commented, still looking forward.

“Hey, don’t let Caleb hear you say that,” Willie joked. “You don’t want to be jolted.”

“Nice try, Willie, but we can’t be jolted!” Reggie retaliated.

“Wait, why can’t you guys be jolted?”

“Because we don’t have stamps!!” Reggie exclaimed, oblivious.

“Wait, if you guys aren’t stamped, then how come you’re still here? Is Julie stamped?”

“Not that we know of…..” Alex trailed off.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with the fact that none of our souls belong to Caleb! We don’t have to be here! We can just walk right out of here, and he can’t do anything to scare us into coming back!! He doesn’t have any real power over us!!”

“I mean, he kind of does, he’s our boss,” Reggie countered, oblivious.

“Really, Reg?” Alex asked in disbelief. “You can’t be that clueless.”

“What? Caleb is our boss! He’s in charge of us while we’re here! Sure, he can’t force us back here- ohhhh.” He paused in realization. “You guys are saying that we should just leave him.”

“Yes, Reg!! That is exactly what we’re saying!! Caleb doesn’t have any control over us anymore!! There’s nothing that he can do without the stamp to make us stay!! We can leave!!” Luke repeated, pushing himself off the table, again, in excitement.

“Uh, Luke, I get where you’re coming from, but there’s something that you’re forgetting,” Alex interjected.

“What is it?”

“He still has Willie.”

“Well, we can fix that! We just need to get to the bottom of what else can get rid of the stamps and use that to get rid of Willie’s!!”

“Maybe it’s true love,” Reggie offered, mindlessly.

“Reggie, this isn’t a Disney movie, a true love’s kiss won’t just fix everything.”

“I mean, it’s worth a shot if all else fails,” Willie defended with a laugh.

Alex took a double take. “Wait, what?”

“I mean, true love doesn’t have to be romantic, and you guys are kind of like brothers to me at this point. And an act of true love doesn’t necessarily have to be a kiss..”

“Oh. Oh. Okay, I just-- I thought you meant-- Because I was gonna say--”

Luke put a hand on Alex’s shoulder to stop him. “Dude, stop. You’re only embarrassing yourself.”

“Got it,” Alex responded, lowering his voice.

“But yeah, like Willie said. We can do this!! We might even be able to get rid of everyone else’s stamps as well!! We could overthrow Caleb!!”

“But some people genuinely like being here. Wouldn’t that be unfair to them?” Reggie pointed out.

Luke nodded and rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe not overthrow him, but anyone that wants to would be able to escape him!! We could give them hope!!”

“But doesn’t he know where Julie lives? Couldn’t he take Carlos, or Victoria and use them as leverage?” Willie offered.

“Or Ray!! He could use Ray as well,” Reggie quickly added.

“Come on, guys!! They’re the Molinas!! They’d be damned if they let some old ghost with a glitter addiction beat them!! You’ve seen what Carlos and Tia have in store in the case of a ghost!! And they’ve learned from us!! Not to mention, Ray wouldn’t let anything happen to his family, even if it was the last thing he did!! And we got the Riders on our sides!! Maybe even the Wilsons and Danforth-Evans as well, if push comes to shove!! Caleb doesn’t stand a chance!!”

The three of them nodded. The Molinas and their friends were a force to be reckoned with. If you dared to mess with one of them, chances are you’d end up regretting it. Even an otherworldly being like Caleb would be in for a bad time.

“See? There’s nothing realistically stopping us from leaving!!”

He glanced behind him at the table before jumping on it with a loud thud, startling the others to their feet.

“I say we revolt and start a revolution!! Stand in our own power!! Sing our own songs!! Write our own lyrics--”

“Don’t we already do that?” Reggie asked, cutting him off.

“It’s symbolism, Reg,” Luke informed him before getting back to his speech.

“As I was saying, we need to step into our greatness and stick it to the man!! Now, WHOSE WITH ME!!!”

“WE ARE!!”

“No, you are not!!”

.

Julie walked down the hall, on the way to a bathroom she could change in. Sure, she could just use one of the countless dressing rooms there are in this place, but the extra privacy that she was given in the bathroom was comforting to her. In such a busy place, it was nice to be alone with her thoughts. Especially before a performance, when she needed it most. The further she strayed from backstage, the fewer people she passed, and the fainter the noise of the people in the club became. It was like a scene in a movie, she thought, where the dialogue and background noise slowly disappeared to be replaced by the next song in the soundtrack.

It was fun to think of life like a movie sometimes. Or a musical. Breaking out into song while doing a regular task, or being a bit too over dramatic about a dropped ice cube mixed things up. It made things more fun. Thinking of a conversation-cut-short as a cliffhanger or the always dreaded next day of school as the next episode. Setting an alarm to one of her favorite songs to make it her theme song. Random moments of dead silence like the credits. It was weird, in hindsight, but she made it work. It became so natural that it wasn’t strange. Then again, nothing in her life was exactly normal. Julie laughed at the thought. The word normal has basically lost its meaning. She’s in a ghost band, working for an evil ghost, at his magical jazz club. At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised if she woke up in the morning and found out she could fly.

Julie was completely lost in thought, now walking around the building aimlessly. She was humming a random tune to herself, no specific song in mind. This place was like a maze, so easy to get lost in, and forget about telling the time. She was just going over her conversation with Flynn at lunch (who is still not very happy about the whole Caleb thing) when she heard someone speaking from another room. It was unusual, to say the least. She snapped out of her mindless state enough to figure out which room the talking was coming from, and get closer to it. After finding the door, which was left ajar, she leaned in to listen.

Was this smart? No, absolutely not. She should be going on with the band any minute, or at least, that’s how it seems, but that was in the very back of her mind right now. At the moment, she was focused on what that voice was talking about.

The voice sounded stressed, panicked, even. But it also sounded familiar. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She tried to lean in closer, opening the door slightly more.

“I can’t keep doing this with them. They’re too smart for me to trick! They’re performances have lured many ghosts out here. Many naive, young ones. Isn’t that enough?!”

“No, Covington! I need their souls!! That girl--”

“Julie.”

“Is too powerful. And she’s getting stronger. And the boys are getting too....too....too reckless. I can’t wait much longer, Covington.”

Caleb! That’s who the voice belonged to! But wait. Who was the other person? And why were they speaking to him like that?

“I need more time!”

“Well, you don’t have more time. Get the girl and her friends, or else you’ll be in the same position they just got out of.”

“Wait--!!”

Before Caleb could say anything else, the owner of the other voice disappeared, making him slam his fist down on a hard surface.

“God damn it!!” Caleb yelled to noone, before flopping down in a chair.

Julie could hear him mumbling, but couldn’t make out the words, so she tried leaning in further, opening the door wider, if ever so slightly. With all of her weight on the door, she ended up pushing too far, causing the door to swing open and for her to stumble into the room. Unable to find her balance, she fell forward landing on her hands and knees.

Caleb barely gave her a glance, his head buried in his hands.

“Hey, Julie,” he acknowledged her, his voice muffled.

Julie looked up at him, pushing herself to her knees and then standing up. She brushed herself off before taking a look around the room. The floor was a gray carpet that looked far too clean to be anything other than something out of a commercial. The walls were a lighter shade of gray, almost completely empty. In the middle of the right wall, there was a fireplace with a flat screen tv above it. It made her wonder if it was fake or if she had somehow made it to the top floor while lost in dreamland. In the middle of the room, there was a black marble and glass coffee table. Around it, there were a pair of velvet, ocean blue hairs and loveseats. To the right of her, there was a minibar. The countertop looked to be made of black marble as well, with barstools in front of it. Above the cabinets was a white and metallic blue clock O.n the other side of the room, a giant glass window stood between her and a balcony that looked like it could fit 50.

“Uhh, hey, Caleb,” she responded, her voice raising at the end. “Um, what was going on in here?”

“It was nothing, just my boss getting to me.”

“Your boss?”

“Yes, my boss. Things right now are....complicated.”

Julie walked over to the loveseat diagonal of where Caleb was seated and sat down.

“What happened?”

Caleb looked over at her through his fingers for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not he should tell her. He sighed, moving his arm to his armrest, his hand now laying on the side of his face, holding him up.

“He wants you and your friends’ souls, but most importantly yours. You guys are all pretty powerful, but you are......something else. He keeps berating me with questions and requests and demands and updates and you guys keep outsmarting me and if I don’t follow through with this, I’ll be put back in the black room, or have intense, continuous jolts, or worse. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I don’t want it to happen,” Caleb explained, looking in Julie’s direction but seemingly staring off into space. He let his guard down, anxiety creeping into his voice.

Julie didn’t know how to answer at first. Caleb had been a jerk to her and her friends, but has given her quite a few opportunities here at the club that she wouldn’t have had otherwise. But how much of a price really is selling your soul? Is it like in the movies, or does it follow a certain religion? Where would she even go after death? And what about the others?

But Caleb looked so.....scared. He was never like this. He always had a cool, overdramatic, posh, demeanor. Seeing him like this was like looking at a completely different person. And, as much as she hates to admit it, she’s started to like him during the time she’s spent at the Hollywood Ghost Club. Yeah, he’s evil, but he wasn’t so bad. And now he might not even be evil?

“I’m sorry, Caleb. But I don’t.....I don’t want to give up my soul. I want to be able to crossover and see my mom again when I die.”

“I know, that’s the problem. If I can’t convince or trick you into giving me your soul, then I’ll fade from existence and he’ll take matters into his own hands.”

Julie sighed. No one should be in this situation.

“We’ll find a way to figure this out. I promise,” Julie reassured Caleb, nodding her head. She looked him over for a second, thinking her next move through.

“Eh, what the hell?” she thought to herself, before enwrapping Caleb in a hug.

Caleb tensed, looking down at her and holding his arms out at his sides. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her in return, giving her a small pat on the back.

“Thank you.”

Julie retracted, reaching up to push a few stray strands of hair out her face.

“It’s no problem. I mean, it all adds up. It is kind of weird how most of the people here aren’t scared of you. I mean, don’t hate you? Wait, no. That’s not what I-- I don’t--” Julie started to panic, but relaxed when Caleb shook his head and waved his hand, brushing it off.

Caleb glanced at the clock above the bar while he did so, checking the time.

“We’re gonna be late for the opening. I’ll teleport out, you change here, and get back to the stage as soon as you’re done,” Caleb ordered, getting ready to leave.

“Wait!”

Caleb stared at her, expectantly.

“I, uh, I don’t know how I got here. Or my way back,” Julie explained, shyly, holding her left arm.

Caleb sighed, nodding.

“I’ll go wait outside. When you’re done, we’ll walk back together.”

Julie smiled, quickly separating her clothes as she picked out what to put on first.

“Thank you! I promise this won’t happen again.”

Caleb gave a small smile, quickly hiding it and heading out the room, giving Julie privacy.

Talking about this made him feel lighter. Weirdly, lighter. Of course, he shouldn’t be talking about this with a 16 year old. Especially not the 16 year old that he’s been specifically ordered to steal a soul from. Even then, just talking about it briefly had helped. It felt like a curse had been lifted, ironically.

Caleb lean’t against the wall, closing the door as he stepped to the side.

That girl had too much hope. He had known from the moment he made the deal with that man he was doomed. Sometimes you have to go through with something to realize how bad of a mistake it was, and this was one of those times. He was doomed. The moment they had become entangled with the club they had written their fate, too. They might have been able to outsmart him, but there was no way they would be able to outsmart nor outpower him. At least, not yet. Julie still needed training, and there wasn’t enough time for him to teach her how. Yet, here he was, thinking that maybe he could figure this mess out. Maybe they could all get out of this.

The door opening made him stand up straight.

“I’m ready.”

Caleb nodded, silently and started walking back to the club, leaving Julie to fall into step next to him.

.

“No, you are not!” Julie yelled, grabbing the others’ attention.

The boys looked at Julie, startled by her sudden entrance and confused by her objection.

Luke gave her a saddened look. Julie nodded her head towards Caleb, who was standing behind her. Luke ‘ohed’ silently, looking away.

“Do I dare ask what’s going on?”

“That depends on how much you heard,” Reggie replied, who had shied away, behind Alex’s chair.

“Only the end. Something about ‘sticking it to the man.’ I’d be careful about that, by the way. I do still have some leverage over you guys.”

Julie rolled her eyes while the others glared at him.

“Now, get ready. You guys go on in five minutes.”

With that, Caleb walked out onstage, putting on a cheery voice.

“Sorry about that! We’ve been running a bit behind schedule, tonight. I see some glazed eyes out here tonight,” he threw his cane to his other hand and the music started, “Let’s see if we can change that.”

As his speech blended into song, they had stopped listening.

“Wait, so that means you’re with us, right? And you were just saying no because he was there?” Luke asked, still standing on the table.

“No? Look, something happened. Caleb isn’t that bad? It’s hard to explain. I’ll have to tell you guys later. But for now, we’ve gotta get ready to go on.”

The boys looked at each other with a mixture of confusion and worry. What had happened to their Julie that made her side with Caleb all of the sudden?

.

The door to Caleb’s office slammed shut. Caleb froze. His time was up. The light dimmed and the room went cold. This was really it. He had put it off for so long, finding ways around it and surviving (if you could really call what he was doing ‘surviving’). But now it is finally gonna end. He deserved it, didn’t he? He should have stayed dead the first time; he didn’t deserve to live. Then he was given a second chance. He could have made things better; help others instead of himself! But look at where he ended up; doing the exact same thing as he was doing before: Hurting others for the sake of himself.

“Where are their souls, Covington?” his boss asked, raspily.

Caleb took a deep breath, standing up straight. He tried to sound confident, but his failure was evident at his shaking.

“I don’t have them.”

The man appeared in front of him, eyes glowing white. You couldn’t really say he was appearing as a man, though. He appeared to be a black cloud, making up a silhouette of a man. In place of his eyes were two glowing, piercing, white dots that seemed to be staring into his soul. At least, if he still had one.

“How. Come?” the figure asked, his voice booming.

Caleb gulped. “The girl - Julie - outsmarted me.”

The figure let out a deep, maniacal laugh. It bounced off the walls, surrounding Caleb. He backed into the door, fear now clearly showing on his face.

“I’ve given you a lot of time for this, Caleb. I’m afraid,” the figure lifted up a part of his shadow, appearing to be his arm, “I can’t afford to give you anymore.”

The figure stepped closer, shooting his arm out in front of him and into Caleb’s chest. Caleb curled into a ball against the door, turning sideways, trying to save as much time for himself as possible. When nothing happened, he looked back down at himself, confused as to what had changed. He looked over to the ghostly figure across from him, who seemed just as confused as he was.

“WHY ISN’T THIS WORKING?!?” he yelled out of frustration.

He tried again. Caleb flinched, but it was for nothing when nothing changed once again. The figure glared daggers at him, causing Caleb to shake even more. The figure lifted up his arm to himself, closing his fist suddenly and tightly. A realization came upon him.

“You no longer have your stamp.”

Caleb looked down at his wrist, pushing up his sleeve. Sure enough, the glowing outline of the stamp that would usually appear when prompted didn’t appear. He pulled down his sleeve quickly, hiding his wrist. He looked back up at his boss, who had stepped closer.

“Fine. There are other ways to take you out. More fun ones,” he stated, deepening his voice, moving closer to him, ever so slowly.

Before Caleb could get away, he grabbed him, teleporting them both away.

.

“Hey, have any of you guys seen Caleb?” Julie asked the others, who were relaxing backstage.

“Why does it matter? This place is better without him, anyway,” Alex asked, laying down on a couch, his head in Willie’s laugh, twirling his drumsticks.

“He hasn’t been here all week. I’m getting worried.”

“Why worry? He sucks,” Luke asked, not looking up from his song book.

“Yes but….he doesn’t? I think something bad might have happened to him.”

“What did he do to you that you care about him all of the sudden?” Luke looked up, shaking his head.

Julie took a deep breath before relaying her and Caleb’s conversation. She shouldn’t be worrying herself over what was probably nothing, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask around. And she couldn’t hide this from her boys forever, so this was a good opportunity to confess.

“What? Come on, Julie, he’s gotta be lying! He’s trying to trick you into giving him your soul!” Luke exclaimed, getting up from his seat and walking up to Julie.

“Yes, maybe, but he seemed genuinely scared, and--”

“Julie, he’s an actor! He’s lying! There’s no way--”

“I saw him. I saw his boss there, too. The conversation only happened after he had disappeared,” Julie blurted out, stopping Luke from continuing.

.

Willie, Reggie, and Julie pushed open the door, trying their best to ignore the noise being made behind them. Inside the room was Caleb, sitting in a corner, leaning against the wall. Julie and Reggie rushed over to him, while Willie stayed at the door.

“Caleb! Are you okay?” Julie asked, kneeling down in front of him.

Caleb lolled his head, looking in the duo’s direction, not being able to completely focus on either of them. There were no physical signs of injury, seeing as he was a ghost, but it was clear that he was hurt.

“What--” he sucked his teeth, wincing, “are you guys doing here?”

“Getting you out of here! The others are fighting off your boss right now. He is not a nice guy. He puts you to shame, really,” Reggie explained quickly.

“Come on, help me get him up,” Julie told Reggie.

The two of them lifted his arms and helped him stand up, although he was basically being dragged due to the major height difference between them all.

“How…..how are you able to touch me?”

“I’ve learned quite a bit since you’ve disappeared. Now come on, we’ve gotta get you out of here and finish dealing with your boss.”

.

They had finished him off. Whether he had crossed over or simply didn’t exist anymore, they didn’t know, but he was definitely gone. The Hollywood Ghost Club still stood, although it was now empty. A handful of ghosts stayed behind; some wanted to take care of it until it was performance ready again, while others didn’t want to leave what had grown to be their home behind. Those who wanted to leave, left. No one blamed them; that place held as many bad memories as it did good, if not more.

Julie and Flynn were explaining the situation she had been in to Ray, Carlos, and Victoria. Caleb was here for the time being, so the boys could become both solid and visible to the others. At first they had thought that was an idea better saved for another time, but Reggie was bouncing at the thought of being seen, and Alex had wanted to talk to Victoria for a while now, so they had decided that once Caleb cleaned up a bit, however he was gonna do that, they would meet each other, officially.

“......Julie, are you doing okay? Do you need to start seeing Dr. Turner, again?” Ray asked, stepping closer to her.

“No, Dad! She’s telling the truth! These ghosts really do exist! I have the proof!” Carlos defended Julie, stepping forward and in front of her.

“I thought the same thing at first, but these ghosts are real! They’re really nice, too!! You’d love them,” Flynn stated, nodding.

Ray looked around at everyone. When he landed on Victoria, she shrugged.

“I don’t know what to believe! All I know is that this house is haunted, and if they’re all saying they know the ghosts, maybe they’re telling the truth?”

Ray sighed, crossed his arms, and smiled. “I guess, if you’re telling the truth, it won’t be so bad. I mean, they brought music back into your life, I’d be crazy to kick them out.”

Julie grinned, running over to give him a hug. “Thanks, Papi!”

Then, she ran over to the stairs, and called up to them. One by one, the four boys descended the stairs, lining up at the bottom.

“Dad, Tia, this is Luke, Reggie, Alex, Willie, and-- Where’s Caleb?” Julie asked, cutting herself off.

“To hell if we know!” Luke exclaimed, ignoring the others staring at him.

“He’s gotta be here, somewhere. I mean, we wouldn’t be visible, if he wasn’t, right?” Reggie pointed out.

Just then, Caleb appeared in front of them with a puff of purple smoke. He was wearing his classic purple suit, save for the jacket.

“There you are! You may have not been the one behind everything, but you’re still on thin ice. You can’t just do that!” Julie reprimanded him.

Caleb rolled his eyes, nodding. “Yes, yes, I’m very sorry. Now, would you mind telling me who hot stuff over here is?”

Julie glanced at where Caleb was looking, and quickly looked back at him. “You mean my dad?!”

Caleb ignored her, walking up to Ray. “Hi, do you know how much a polar bear weighs?”

“No…??” Ray answered, confused.

“Enough to break the ice; I’m Caleb,” he said quickly, sticking out his hand.

Ray absentmindedly took it. “Ray…”

“Do you mind if we take a picture? To prove that angels really exist, of course.”

“I--”

“No! No, no, no. No. You can come over whenever you want and help mend your relationships with this family, but flirting with my dad is OFF LIMITS, you got that?” Julie ordered, rushing to stand in between them.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, Julie,” Caleb replied, winking at Ray before walking away.

As everyone started chattering and getting to know each other, Flynn and Julie talked about the situation.

“Do you think this is a good idea? For them to be visible?”

“Absolutely not. But they’re happy, and that makes it all worth it.”

Flynn nodded, turning her head to look at Julie. “You know this is gonna cause a lot of trouble, right?”

“Yeah, but we’ll handle it together. Right?” Julie asked, turning her head to face Flynn in return, raising her first.

“Right.”

Flynn fist bumped her in return.

“Double Trouble back at it again!”

“That is not our band name!”

“It doesn’t have to be our band name! It just has to be our name!”

Julie cracked a grin.

“Alright.”

“Yesss! Now I don’t need to trash the new t-shirt design!” Flynn celebrated, clenching both her hands into fists.

Julie laughed. It was definitely gonna be a mess, but it will all be worth it as long as her family is beside her.

[sociallyawkwardfoxwriter]

Widofjord prompt: Fjord and Caleb harass Beau by rubbing their chins on Beau whenever they can (like Fjord did back in ep90) Mostly just to annoy her. Started off with Fjord growing his beard and Caleb doing it to bother her. Now the two do it to annoy her in general.

Fjord and Caleb annoying Beau? I do love to see it.

Enjoy!

The pile of books between the two of them was so great that he could see a few in danger of tipping over. Before that could happen, he quickly rearranged the stacks to more reasonable sizes that wouldn't end with one of them getting a concussion. The entire time neither of them even bothered to look up from their work on whatever they were in the middle of researching. Even a quick glance told him there was no point trying to decipher their notes. All of them were in languages he didn't understand or included intricate arcane diagrams he had no hopes of deciphering.

After taking a moment to consider the best course of action, he moved behind Caleb to press a kiss to his cheek. When the first did nothing to pull him away from his work, he pressed a second closer to his lips and placed his hands on his biceps to give a light squeeze. A soft hum gave him pause as Caleb finished up his sentence, then turned his head to exchange a quick kiss.

"Can I help you?"

"You've been in here all day. Both of you. It's time to come out for a few hours. Stretch your legs, eat dinner, rest your brilliant minds."

"We are almost done."

"I've heard that before. What is almost done this time? A few hours? Half a day?"

With a sigh, Caleb looked down at his book, then at the other ones still waiting for them. "Almost done might be a stretch."

"That's what I thought. Break time it is. You can come back to it in a few hours."

"Good luck convincing Beauregard. Most of this is hers."

"Which means it's both of yours because it always is."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." In the middle of rolling his eyes, Caleb placed a hand on his jaw that turned his head just the way he wanted for a slow kiss. "How do you plan on convincing Beauregard out of here?"

Rather than tell his plan, he moved to the opposite side of the table to stand behind Beau's left shoulder. On the next page turn, he leaned down to firmly rub his jaw along the side of her face a few times. A hand quickly swung up to pop Fjord right in the nose before he had time to pull away, then Beau turned a glare to him.

"Would the two of you stop doing that! I don't want beard burn on my face."

"Why? It won't make a difference."

"Dick." She shoved at Fjord's face to prevent him from doing it a second time. "Next time one of you does that, I'll really pop you in the nose."

"Whatever you say."

"I'll shave you both in the night, then we'll see how your little trick works."

"You think you can come into our room in the middle of the night and shave both of us before someone wakes up? Even if you do that the first time, how do you plan on keeping that up?"

"I'll have Yasha help."

"Yasha shaves Caleb."

A crumpled up piece of paper hit him square on the nose causing Beau to let out a cackling laugh. "It won't even be a problem if you're stuck sleeping on the couch."

"Very funny. I come in here to make sure the two of you are still alive and this is the thanks I get?"

"Don't rub your nasty beard on my face and I'll actually thank you next time."

"It's not nasty. Caleb likes it."

"Does he?" Beau snapped her book shut to emphasize her point as she pushed away from the table. "I'm going to get a snack before dinner. Don't ruin any of my notes or the books."

"You like my beard, right?"

A chuckle from Caleb filled the library on his way over to cup Fjord's jaw in his hands with a smile. "I love it very much."

[vividxp]

Hello, it’s time for another post about Nott the Brave, you’re welcome

I’m trying to pin down the reason why a lot of the “Nott is the mom of the group” stuff puts me on edge. Currently, and it might be paranoia on my part, but every time I see it, I get the sense Nott having a child is seen as her only appealing and positive personality trait.

sidras-tak posted a really good meta about Nott’s love language being gift giving (thanks to @fanpersoning for the link). It focused on Caleb and Yeza, two people that she has romantic feelings for, but I would also like to add that she’s done the same thing for others. When Nott found out that Jester had Molly’s tarot cards and was planning on adding to them, she went out and bought her card stock cut into size so that Jester could make 100 more cards. She went and had engravings done on Beau’s throwing stars (even if it didn’t turn out as she intended for comedy reasons). You can even point to the hat heist in Rexxentrum as an example of this.

Nott’s also really freakin’ smart. She just learned how to do magic a few months ago and yet she was able to hang with Caleb and Essek to decipher Halas’s notes. She also makes herself weapons and has recently moved towards making her own spells. The second time the M9 were in the Happy Fun Ball, there was a in-battle challenge of deciphering and deactivating magical glyphs and she was able do it with ease. 

Of course, Nott is brave. Look at her entire backstory, look at what she had to go through throughout the came. If it were me, I’d just go hide away in a hole forever. She’s gone through a lot of shit, including dying twice and facing the person who cursed her and is still able to keep going. Heck look at the lengths she went to rescue her husband...and a lot of these actions were done while she was sober.

Nott is funny! Like this is an acknowledged canonical fact (thanks Caleb). But like remember, her idea of a prank at the Stones? The whole Bahamut temple fiasco with Jester? Hilarious, and seriously one of my favorite scenes in all of campaign 2.

Nott is unapologetically weird and quirky. She was known in her hometown as the weird person who collects and makes stuff from random junk. She got a lot of shit about that from her peers (and headcanon alert, but I don’t think as an adult she was all that popular in town), and she could have chosen to drop her hobby to fit in, but she choose to be herself.

I wrote all of this to say that there’s so much there, and I understand how useful shorthands can be, but in Nott’s case she gets reduce to this one thing that barely qualifies as a personality. Many different people can have children after all. 

[nooneactuallyasked]

Diner Gal - Reggie x Reader Part 9

Requested: It’s a series, there are no requests here!

Word count: 1,877

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Julie and the Phantoms ( + Flynn ) go to a musical diner/café/restaurant for inspiration and hopefully a future gig but they end up meeting a very special waitress.

Note: We love Reggie moments- Love our himbo the most! Told you I’d do it today lol

Oop, just remembered I forgot the taglist for the last part so Imma add that in a sec lol

---

Part 1 here   Part 2 here   Part 3 here   Part 4 here

Part 5 here   Part 6 here   Part 6.5 here   Part 7 here

Part 8 here

---

Y/N sat on a table, writing out the setlist for the next day, another job Cal had left for her to do and it pissed her off to no end. She understood having a bad day, sure it sucked but don’t take it out on your employees! She let out a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding and decided that as long as she got paid properly she would put up with pretty much anything.

She still needed to practice her duet with one of the guys, Josh, but of course, he couldn’t be here, just her luck. Obviously, she didn’t blame him, things happened, but everything seemed to be going wonky lately and all Y/N was some stability in her life, Cal was a different person all of a sudden, she more work than she could handle and top it all off she was developing feelings for a ghost. Scratch that, she has feelings for a ghost that she could touch but no one else could see and it honestly kind of scared her.

Y/N huffed, placing her notebook next to her before hopping off the table, it was clear to see that she wouldn’t get anything done any time soon.

“Hey, Diner Gal! It’s your favourite phantom, me!” Y/N jumped a bit before turning around, an exasperated smile on her face, “Hello, Leather Boy, nice seeing you again.” Reggie grinned, he loved hearing her voice, it comforted him and made him feel wanted, “So, what are we doing?” Y/N sighed, turning back to her notebook, “I’m stressing over a setlist and a duet I’m supposed to be practising for, but I don’t expect you to do the same.” Y/N grinned at him over her shoulder. A worried puppy expression clouded over Reggie’s face, then he thought of an idea that brought a bright smile onto his face, “How about I help you practice? I mean, I could sing the other part, girl or guy. I’ve been told I have an excellent Sandy impression, I’m especially good at Summer Lovin’ in case you were wondering.” He winked at her causing her to burst into laughter, a warm smile lighting up her face.

“Um, sure, you heard and Dear Evan Hansen?”

“Have I? Julie showed 1 song to Alex and he wouldn’t shut up about it, he kept making Julie play us those songs over and over and over again, I think I know literally every line by now. Alex swears that he is Evan but instead of Connor it’s Zoe who’s dead and that him and Connor are happily married with a puppy.” Reggie widened his eyes to emphasize his point, Y/N snickered, “What a terrible fate you’ve been succumbed to.” Reggie rolled his eyes, secretly admiring how carefree the girl before him looked, “I’m serious! My ears can recognize any song from 3 miles away!”

“Okay, so, do you know Only Us?” Reggie nodded, he knew that one especially well, not just because of Alex but because it was his personal favourite, it’s how he always imagined love would feel like, carefree, a little awkward but completely accepting and unconditional. It wasn’t something he had experienced very much of and certainly not in the way the song presented it but he hoped maybe one day he could experience it exactly how the song said, with Y/N. “Yeah, I do. Is that the song?”

“Yep. I’ll just put the backing on, thanks for this.” Y/N smiled before making her way towards the counter where the kept the tech stuff. Soon the familiar melody drifted out of the speakers in the room and Y/N made her way back to Reggie.

I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you

I don't need you to search for the proof that I should

You don't have to convince me

You don't have to be scared you're not enough

'Cause what we've got going is good

Y/N was looking right into Reggie’s eyes and it honestly made his heart skip a good thousand beats, he felt like she singing directly to him, like he was the only person that mattered. She made him feel alive.

I don't need more reminders of all that's been broken

I don't need you to fix what I'd rather forget

Clear the slate and start over

Try to quiet the noises in your head

We can't compete with all that

She moved closer to him, raising a hand to push away a strand of hair from his eyes, a soft smile forming on both of their faces. She stepped back, wringing her hands in front of her.

So what if it's us?

What if it's us

And only us

And what came before won't count anymore or matter?

Can we try that?

She took his hand and raised it up to meet her own before intertwining their fingers, she smiled down at them before meeting his eyes, the awe in them shining through causing her to smile bashfully and look back down.

What if it's you

And what if it's me

And what if that's all that we need it to be

And the rest of the world falls away?

 What do you say?

Reggie unlinked their fingers and poofed onto a nearby table causing Y/N to snicker as her nearly kicked a ketchup bottle.

I never thought there'd be someone like you who would want me

 Well...

Y/N looked away, feeling more than slightly flustered, why was a song so much better at deciphering her feelings than her own mind!

So I give you ten thousand reasons to not let me go

But if you really see me

If you like me for me and nothing else

Well, that's all that I've wanted for longer than you could possibly know

Reggie poofed back down and held both of her hands, looking into her eyes. It felt like they were promising to be with each other forever, no matter what, just like in the song.

So it can be us

It can be us

And only us

And what came before won't count anymore or matter

We can try that

He pulled her into a hug, singing into her ear, she’d never been serenaded before and this was probably the closest she’d ever come to a real experience but Y/N swore that no one would ever understand how she felt. It was perfect, even though it was all just practice for a duet she was doing with some else.

It's not so impossible

Nobody else but the two of us here

'Cause you're saying it's possible

We can just watch the whole world disappear

'Til you're the only one

I still know how to see

Y/N sat on a nearby table, Reggie standing in front of her holding her hands tightly, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

It's just you and me

It'll be us

It'll be us

Heat pooled in both of their cheeks, this moment was special, no matter what happened after they both knew this had connected them. Y/N brought a hand up to his cheek and brushed her thumb over it, delicately as if it were a petal.

And only us

And what came before won't count anymore

Y/N got off of the table, letting go of Reggie’s hands causing him to feel slightly disappointed, he enjoyed the warmth that radiated from her like she was the sun. She was the sun that brought light to his world. She belted out the note and Reggie just stared in awe.

We can try that

You and me

That's all that we need it to be

And the rest of the world falls away

And the rest of the world falls away

She went back over to him, once again intertwining their fingers before Reggie looped his arms around her waist and she wrapped her around his neck.

The world falls away

The world falls away

And it's only us

They stared at each other for a few more seconds before Y/N buried her head into his neck and Reggie squeezed her tighter. He was afraid, what if this didn’t work? What if they turned into his parents? But then again, what if they clicked and everything was perfect. That was a risk he wasn’t sure he could take but he was starting to come to the conclusion that it might be worth it.

Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that but eventually, Y/N moved away, “So, uh, I should get back to work, you know, things to do and, uh, people to please.” She chuckled awkwardly, how do you follow that up with casual conversation? “Oh, yeah, Julie and the guys are probably wondering where I am.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

“So, bye.” It came out more unsure and more of a question than Y/N had hoped it would but Reggie didn’t seem to notice, “Yeah, um, bye.” She stepped back and sent him a small wave and smile which he returned before poofing out.

.

.

.

“Well, wasn’t that just sickeningly sweet, I do so love it when romantic drama is added to the mix.” Y/N whipped around and was met with the same guy in purple she had seen just the day before. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” The man mockingly gasped, “How rude of me, the name’s Caleb, I’m a very special…friend of Cal’s” Y/N raised a brow in disbelief, “Oh really? How do you know him?” Caleb rolled his eyes, “Cal, are we friends?” Y/N frowned before spotting Cal walk out of the shadows, what the fuck was happening and why was it kinda terrifying. “Yes, we are.”  

“Cal, what the fuck is up with you?” But Cal didn’t answer, he just stared, he stared into nothing, as if anything and everything didn’t exist and he was the only one there. She glared at this Caleb guy, “What did you do to him?” Caleb smirked and chuckled? Deep, scary laughed? Whatever it was it made Y/N’s skin crawl, no one should laugh like that and not get thrown into a bin. “I just gave Cal a little ultimatum and he chose well, so now I have a little, how do I put this, control over him.”

“Now I have an ultimatum for you too, you see, I’ve been giving you a gift, a present shall we say, but everything comes with a cost and so now I’ve come to collect.” Y/N shook her head in confusion, “What’re you talking about? What gift and what price?” Caleb did another weird chuckles thing that made Y/N roll her eyes. “Sweetheart, how do you think you can see those boys? Why have you never seen any other ghosts beforehand?” Y/N stuttered, it made sense but it still kinda hurt. “What’s your price?” Caleb smirk, “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, and it’s simple really, I want the boys. And you’re gonna help me get them.”

That was not what Y/N expected, “What happens if I don’t?” Caleb’s expression darkened, “Well, you’ll have to get used to a life without your precious ‘Leather Boy’” He pulled a face at the nickname whilst Y/N stood there frozen in shock.

Well shit.

---

Taglist:

@hereforthejatp​

@slutforjjmaybank​   @morganayennefertyrell​

@dxestars​   @dcnerd98​

@ultraworthlessbitch​   @revolutionary-werewolf-ghosts 

@underc0vercryptid-reads​   @miisacore​

[unicyclehippo]

I'd love to see 31 in that prompt list you just reblogged with beaujester!

oh i bet u would What A Surprise

31. “Can I kiss you?”

//

she’s been thinking about it for a long time. since it happened, really, and constantly for a while after that. and then, at some point she can’t quite place...she had thought less and less about fjord kissing her.

saving her life?

saving her life via kiss.

the thought had come back in a big way for reasons she’s not ready to think about yet so here she is—standing with burning cheeks and trembling hands in fjord’s room, waiting for his answer.

he was clearly polishing his sword—not a euphemism, though now that she thinks about it she giggles. the laugh takes on a hysterical note and that’s what gets fjord up on his feet, breaking out of the stunned fish look. with a flick of his wrist, the new sword is gone and he crosses the room in a few long strides. hesitates for a second before settling his hands on her shoulders.

‘hey,’ he says, so gently, so kind, in the way he always is when it is just the two of them, ‘what’s wrong?’

she shakes her head. ‘nothing. just—you can say no, if you want, i just thought—‘

‘jester,’ why does he sound sorry? pitying? is she pitiful for asking? his hands are calloused, warm, as he lifts them to her cheeks. ‘you have to give me a second to catch up. you want—‘ he flushed a little. ‘you want me to kiss you?’

‘i—‘ she leans forward until her forehead knocks against his sternum. enjoys the way his arms settle around her shoulders, hug her. there’s something not quite right about it, he’s being too careful about it like he’s not sure he’s doing it right, or that he should be, and it makes jester itch all over. is it too much to ask that she can be held? hugged? kissed? why does it never feel right? ‘you saved me,’ she says. it’s easier when she can’t see his face. ‘you kissed me.’

‘i—yeah. i did.’

‘were you just saving my life? or were you kissing me?’

she can almost hear his heart, beating away steadily beneath new muscles. maybe that’s why it feels wrong. she knew him, met him, when he was slimmer, less muscular, and she wonders if that’s why it doesn’t feel quite right. if it’s something she has to get used to again.

‘i was saving you,’ fjord says. ‘i couldn’t let you drown. you—we’ve been a team from the start, jes, i couldn’t.’

jester nods.

fjord’s hold lightens a little as though he expects her to leave. when she doesn’t, he hugs her a little tighter and that feels better. more comfortable. she shifts so her cheek is pillowed on his shoulder and sighs.

‘i think...i knew that.’

‘are you upset?’ he asks quietly.

‘a little, maybe.’

‘okay. can i...do something?’

‘answer a question?’

fjord’s hold tightens a moment, then relaxes. ‘yeah. anything,’ he says, and he sounds like he means it. really means it. it can be hard to tell with fjord but even as jester thinks that, she realises that she trusts him with the deep, unshakeable faith she allows for very few people.

‘do you want to kiss me? do you want—‘

‘do i want you?’ fjord asks. she knows what the wildmother sees in him; the warm, the gentleness of the waves on the beach. the sting of salt in a wound. ‘not like that. i love you, jester, i—i hope you know that, i hope i’ve done well enough to show that. but no. i’m sorry.’

she has a lot of questions but mostly they boil down to: do you want someone else? or do you just not want me? but she hasn’t the energy to ask it, hasn’t the fortitude now to hear the answer. it isn’t that she’s upset that fjord doesn’t want her—which is new and novel of a thought, because she was sure, sure that she loved fjord in those big grand romantic ways and to feel very little more than disappointment is...confusing. she’s just tired. tired of not being wanted.

‘okay,’ she says, and hugs him tighter.

‘okay?’

‘yeah. okay.’

it takes a little while but eventually the tension runs out of fjord like a tide, pulling away bit by bit until it reveals the covered shore and she thinks despite the faint hurt and disappointment she might be happy with what she has found in its place. happy with the fjord that hugs her tight and presses a kiss to her hairline, gentle and full of a love jester thinks she’ll always need.

eventually, she steps back. wipes at her cheeks where a few tears have spilled over. fjord offers her a handkerchief—‘such a gentleman,’ she teases, and accepts it.

‘you want...tea? or a nap? or...’

jester smiles, not quite her typical brilliant smile but a good one nonetheless. ‘no, it’s okay. i’m gonna...i’m gonna go read under the tree or something. draw something for the traveller.’

‘okay.’ fjord opens the door for her, walks her out to the landing. he starts down, toward the kitchen, before stopping a few steps lower than her. ‘jes?’

‘mhm?’

‘what—made you come to me? and ask?’

can i kiss you? jester remembers saying to him, almost frantic with the request. it had felt like life or death in that moment, like she was chasing after something vital, something she needed.

jester’s eyes slide down past him, down to the room where she had been before. the training room, packed down hard with sand, and the training dummies. where she had been watching beau fight with potent focus, where she had sat beside her friend, and where they had somehow been drawn closer and closer on the bench as they spoke and plotted how to prank nott or maybe caduceus, he’s a solid good sort, in an effort to get yasha to laugh—or maybe smile, jessie, beau had said, with an awkward tilt of her head, seeing as laughter might be like a second step or something. break the proverbial emotional ice with some light smiles first. the smile beau had offered up was small and sweet and ripe with mischief as she talked about what a really bad fucking idea it’d be to prank caleb, and jester hadn’t been able to look away. how had she not noticed—

‘jes? did something happen?’

jester’s attention darts back to fjord, looking like he’s about to climb back up to her.

‘nothing bad,’ she tells him. ‘i don’t think.’

‘do you wanna talk about it?’ he offers, scratching at the back of his neck. ‘i don’t know if i’m the right person for it but—‘

‘would you be upset if i asked someone else?’

fjord’s expression shifts quickly—the concern washed away by surprise, and then a momentary dark glimpse of something she can’t place, so quick that jester thinks it hardly belonged to him at all. finally, calm settles and she can see nothing but curiosity glinting in dark eyes, like light off capped waves. he smiles a crooked smile, the tip of a tusk peeking above his lip.

‘someone got you in a tizzy,’ he deduces. ‘and you came to me.’

guilt hits her like a tidal wave and jester grips onto the bannister, pulls her bottom lip into her mouth to worry at it.

‘i—yes, but i didnt know, i didn’t realise—i wasn’t using you, fjord, i wasn’t—‘

‘jester,’ he cuts her off, ‘i know.’ he loves her too. she can see it. the deep affection, the adoration, has never been more obvious. ‘i don’t think you’re capable of that. nah, that’s not true. you could do anything you wanted. but i reckon you’d never do it.’ he appraises her silently, then adds, ‘i’m here for you. whatever happens.’

jester smiles, this one trembling. ‘thanks,’ she says, a little choked.

//

she gets a peaceful half hour or so in the garden before someone raps on the door, presses it slowly open. she’s only a little surprised to find that it is beau peeking into the space, blue eyes lighting up when she spies jester seated by the traveller’s shrine cad had made for her.

‘hey. missed you at dinner. fjord told us you were up here, didn’t want to be disturbed.’ she steps in cautiously, ready to leave the instant jester asks her to. ‘i brought up something—just some stew, it’s weirdly good, cad’s a great cook. and,’ with a flourish she produces something that looks like a blueberry but is the size of an eyeball. ‘xhorhassian sweet. it’s a berry, i think.’ she looks at it a little nervously, before shrugging. ‘i’d offer to try it first, but i’m immune to poison and shit like that. i can make nott eat one first, if you want.’

jester laughs. ‘i’ll risk it,’ she says, and beckons beau over. it only occurs to her when beau is approaching that maybe it isn’t a good idea when everything is so close to the surface of her thoughts. but beau is already sitting and handing her the bowl. she lays down next to jester, easy and relaxed, folds her hands behind her head and stretches her legs out long, sighs happily.

‘i love these lights,’ she admits. ‘they’re beautiful. and not just because everyone else around here can’t figure out what the fuck we were on when we grew a tree outta the top of the house.’

jester grins. ‘yeah.’ she glances down, eyes flicking over the play of the light over beau, over her oddly serene face, over her lovely brown skin, the shining flicks of brocade to her new uniform. ‘beautiful.’

beau tenses.

jester lifts her eyes to see her friend watching her intently, but though the tension doesn’t ease, beau says nothing.

jester eats. pretends to doodle in her journal, trying to decipher the warmth in her gut at feeling beau beside her, the warmth of her skin, the slow even breathing, the occasional odd murmur as she shifts, pulls an annoying pebble out from under her back.

‘can i kiss you?’ jester blurts out after she has finished her dinner and set it aside.

beau’s knee jerks in her surprise and then her abs are bunching and she’s sitting bolt upright. she opens and closes her mouth a few times and then says simply, ‘yeah.’

‘yeah?’

‘if that’s what you want.’

jester frowns. ‘what do you want?’

beau looks like she doesn’t know what to say again. her shoulders press back—less of a shrug than a nervous shift. ‘i want...you to be happy.’

‘beau.’

‘i’m serious. i’d—do a lot to make you happy, jes.’

jester ducks her head, unsure of what exactly she’s feeling. happy that she got a yes, but everything else beau says makes her wary of taking it. it isn’t quite appeasement, but...

‘i’m not good at talking,’ beau says. shifts not closer but so she’s turned toward jester. ‘i’m—not great with wanting things. i’m kinda...a selfish asshole.’

‘beau, that is not true,’

‘i mean, it kinda is though.’ beau puts her hand over jester’s mouth so she can’t disagree. it’s silly but all jester can think is that even this small contact is right, is good, is terrifying but in this weird, nice, bigger-than-nice, fizzing, and did she mention terrifying kind of way. ‘hold on, i’m trying,’ she continues, and jester forces herself to settle. beau kinda looks like she’s going to puke, or maybe panic. ‘i’m—fuck, okay, i guess we’re doing this—i’m into you, jes. in a big way. and i’m okay with having that in, in whatever way you want. i’ll be your best friend, your roommate, your—protector,’ she says in an oddly stilted, awkward way jester realises is shy. it makes jester want to scream all of a sudden because she doesnt know what this is, where all of this is coming from, how she didn’t know that beau could be like this, be so endearing and warm and noble. she wants to scream because it feels like too much and too little all at once—beau is right there but it feels like she’s too far away, like there is this great yawning chasm between them and jester doesn’t know how to close it, how to cross it.

jester reaches up, slowly, and peels beau’s hand from over her mouth. turns so they’re seated alike, cross legged, knees to knees.

beau looks like she’d rather be anywhere else, holding herself so firmly in place that she’s buzzing with the effort of it. she looks peaceful and terrified, and it’s strange to see her own feelings reflected in beau, who sometimes seems entirely alien—brave and strong and brash and, and lovely.

‘i don’t know everything i’m feeling,’ jester whispers.

beau nods quickly. ‘yeah, yeah, of course, it’s fine, i’m okay with—‘

jester doesn’t know what she’s okay with because she sets her own hand over beau’s mouth. ‘i’m not finished.’

beau rolls her eyes. settles. ‘that’s fair,’ she says, words muffled.

‘i don’t want—‘ jester gulps. ‘to ruin anything.’ she thinks about the chaos crew and girls night and late nights with beau in their room and reading her romance novels together and shopping and thinks about fjord and— ‘can i kiss you anyway?’ she asks, feeling the bite of being selfish instantly, and beau’s eyes lose that little bit of tension in the corners, go sky blue with warmth.

jester’s breath catches in her throat as beau lifts a hand and instead of taking jester’s hand away as she had done, beau holds it close for a moment, kissing jester’s palm before she lifts it away. the touch of it feels like a burning brand, like somehow her hand is buzzing with life, with energy, like beau has made it—jester’s brain stutters over the analogy for a second, because it’s too big and too much, surely, but the words come anyway. beau’s kiss makes her feel divine, worshipped.

jester is still trying to wrap her head around that when beau leans in, traces her fingers down jester’s cheek.

‘yeah?’ she asks, holding back.

jester nods. closes the distance. so that’s how she does it, she thinks, and then she is kissing beau—beau is kissing her—and this, this feels... this feels. she can’t say right, she can’t say too much, she has nothing to compare it to, the way her heart feels to beat too fast and stop altogether, both at the same time. the way she goes hot and cold, and all her world closes down into where she is touching beau and being touched by beau. a hand on her cheek, the still-burning kiss on her hand, her own hand on beau’s neck, the skin so soft and the short wispy hairs that escape from her top knot tickling against her fingers, and beau is kissing her.

[smokeandjollyranchers]

Here’s a little mighty nein fic that’s been running through my head for the past few days and I wanted to get it out. 

Fjord/Jester and Caleb/Jester cuz I have conflicting fEELINGS about both. 

Jester hears Fjord’s genuine laughter as she and Beau pull a fight club in the middle of the Gentleman’s hideout. She hears the difference now, the way he laughs is lighter, softer, more like him than the usual chuckles he offers. He’s always so stilted, always so in control of himself, even when everyone is joking around with each other, and it makes her feel happy for whatever reason. So she didn’t technically have to whisper those nasty words in Infernal to cause wounds to break over Beau’s arms, but the shocked laughter and gasps gave her that thrill from the chaos the Traveler taught her to harness, and Fjord’s deep laughter that seems to light a fire in her stomach that is so addicting, it makes it so hard to stop.

But she does, and she laughs and heals Beau up and smiles at everyone, but lets her eyes linger on Fjord’s a little longer than she has to, long enough that he knows she’s staring at him and she’s not being shy about it at all.

He smiles back, and she knows he knows she knows, and it makes her heart flutter a little.

But only a little. Technically

X

It’s been a while since she’s actually played piano.

She played it a lot when she was younger, it was a really good way to pass the time her mama had to work. Jester used to like to play with the breeze that came off the sea, seeing if she could make the wind music too, and she came close a couple times, but she stopped playing so much once the Traveller started visiting her. Once she made her friend, magic and pranks and tricks became more fun than playing some stupid piano, but regardless, she sits down at the piano in that bar in Hupperdook, and she cracks her fingers.

Oh no she was nervous.

Her fingers press the first few keys and suddenly she’s flying across the piano, her mind moving a thousand miles an hour, and her fingers following as fast as she can think. She happens to catch Caleb’s gaze and she can see him finishing up some gesture, mumbling slightly to himself. Ohhhh he made her quick! Like he does with Beau.

Jester throws her head back and laughs, her fingers still slamming away at the keys. It feels like Mania, like insanity, and she keeps playing and playing and playing, and everyone in the bar is watching and she might not necessarily be good but she is loud and right now, that’s basically the same thing. She finishes her song, her maniacal laughter finishing on the same note, and she hears her friends cheer for her at least, and a few patrons too.

Behind her, she feels a tap on her shoulder, and she looks over at the annoyed pianist she stole the bench from. The look on his face could stem from her tiefling blood or from the fact that her pupils are probably blown out like crazy. He snootily asks her to step down, and Jester smiles trying to turn on the charm for this guy.

She’s not super successful with it.

Behind them both, Caleb shuffles up, dropping a gold piece into the tip jar for the pianist. “Loved the song.” He mumbles, his accent thick.

The pianists eyes flash with such a rare flavor of anger, Jester feels that same chaotic surge, and she looks over at Caleb’s retreating form, a new sort of respect for him igniting in her chest.  

He dances with her later, his feet a few steps off where he should be, but all of Jester’s friends are druuuuuuuuunkkkk, including Caleb. Especially Caleb, based on what he keeps mumbling between them as Jester tries her best to lead him since he’s not very interested in leading her right now.

“You were always a better dancer than me, Astrid.” He whispers this, the name Astrid leaves his lips like a prayer and it almost floors Jester. She knows that he’s so so gone right now and he’s saying stuff he usually wouldn’t and she should probably not let him do that. Usually, she would let him keep going, the Traveller loves a good secret but there’s something...special about the way Caleb says Astrid’s name. Like she’s important. Like she means something to him.

“Come on Caleb, let’s get you to bed.” Jester tells him, shuffling him up towards the stairs that lead up to the rooms they booked that night. Caleb follows along, mumbling about this and that, and nothing really. They stumble through his room, and he snickers, mumbling about the alarm going off in his head. Jester leads him to his bed and he falls backwards on it, heavy as a stone. “Good night Caleb. Thank you for the dance.” She beams at him and he reaches out and grabs her hand, just for a moment, very softly.

“Thank you Astrid.” He mumbles again, his hand gone as quick as it come, and Jester blinks, surprised at the contact. She gets up and leaves him to sleep, closing the door behind her.

She didn’t know Caleb had such a side to him, but now that she’s seen it, it makes perfect sense, really.

She wonders if anyone’s ever looked at her like Caleb looks at Astrid’s Ghost.

X

She’s never scared, or she tries not to be, but it’s hard.

Jester’s never been kidnapped before. Which, okay fine, maybe most people haven’t been kidnapped either, but she was so scared. She’s been shaking for days, and she’s not sure if it was from the ice that Lorenzo had nearly killed them with in the Caravan, or if it was from the soul crushing fear that wouldn’t go away. She tries to keep her spirits up, but it’s hard.

She’s never been gagged before. It reminds her of drowning, it reminds her of being erased, of being forgotten. It makes her want to panic, it makes her want to die, but she doesn’t.

She notices she’s not the only one who’s scared. Fjord is chained up next to her and he’s trying to be relaxed but he’s just as scared as she is. So Jester mumbles against her gag, until Fjord looks over at her, and she hums. She hums the first thing that comes to her mind, one of those old sailor songs that her mom sings when the ships come to port. Fjord looks surprised that she knows it, but he nods his head along with her, eyes never leaving hers.

He stares at her, like he’s trying to tell her something.

Like he’s telling her I’m here with you.

She doesn’t know how to answer him back.

So she hums songs she knows he’ll love, so he has something else to focus on in the dark.

I’m here with you, too.

X

Fjord gets to learn who he is.

It’s exciting! Jester is happy to help him find the answers he’s so desperately been looking for. It’s important to him and she knows that, it’s always been something that confuses him, and makes him question himself, and Fjord just wants to know who he is. That’s not too much to ask, but Jester will kind of admit it’s not been super easy on them.

Or her, specifically, actually. Mostly her.

And maybe Nott and Caduceus, they aren’t having much fun either.

But she’s been so...conflicted ever since they got on the ship.

She was confused back before they even met Avantika, her stomach was in knots ever since they left Nicodranas, but Fjord had promised her that they would get her back to her home someday, so she could see her mom again. He promised her this over the iridescent glow of the jellyfish and she had believed him so wholeheartedly. Because she does believe him. Fjord has never broken a promise to her, or lied to her, or anything bad!

He just...there was something different about him now, something that seems to be bothering him too.

It’s like...Avantika doesn’t bring out anything good in Fjord, like she only wants to corrupt him, to make him something he’s not. But she’s nervous that maybe she’s only thinking that because of how she feels about Fjord? What if Avantika isn’t doing anything at all, and this is just who Fjord is? Maybe...maybe she never knew who Fjord was, maybe the real Fjord wasn’t who she thought she was…

But Fjord also gave her the air from his lungs to keep her alive when that temple flooded.

He was willing to die for her.

Right? Is that something friends did? Or did he care about her? Why does this make her feel so fucking stupid?

She doesn’t mean to word vomit all of these thoughts to Caleb, and she can tell he wasn’t expecting it either, judging by the way his glass of ale stops before it even reaches his lips. She gives him an apologetic smile, and begins carving a dick into the wood of the table to avoid the awkward silence she’s accidently created.

“I’m sorry.” He tells her, “I’m not actually good with these things.”

“You’ve had a girlfriend before tho!” She reminds him. “Remember, you told me about her, when we were dancing.”

“I...remember everything.”

“So...so you know when someone likes you, when someone genuinely cares about you! You can tell the difference right?” Jester looks up at him, and Caleb leans forward on the table, lowering his voice.

“I could, once, but now? Not so much. Are you worried about Fjord?”

“Always.” She tells him, fighting to keep the smile on her face. “And no, it’s not about Avantika, or anything-”

“Isn’t it?” Caleb asks her, a worried look on his face as well. “She’s a very crazy woman who cannot be trusted, and she’s pretty much the only thing happening to Fjord right now worth worrying about.”

“I know...I just…”

“You’re right to be worried about Fjord, and it’s okay to worry about...about your friends. I worry about him too. And about you.”

“Me?” She giggles, going back to carving the dick in the table so Caleb can’t look at her face. “Why would you worry about me? I’m totally fine!”

“Ja, ja, I know, except I still worry about you. Because, I care about you, you know? Like how you care about Fjord, you just...you want him to be okay, ja?” Caleb asks her, clearly tripping over what he’s trying to say. Jester pauses for a moment, trying to decipher what he’s trying to say. Caleb clenches his fists, and he looks up at Jester. “I worry about you, because you say you’re fine, just like Fjord says he’s fine. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“Yeah,” She answers him, a little surprised at the way he looks at her. He nods, sitting back in his seat, satisfied with their conversation, but Jester keeps looking at her dick carving, trying to make sure Caleb can’t tell she’s blushing.

When Beau and Nott come back to make a plan, she steals another look at Caleb, wondering if she was crazy, cuz she could’ve sworn the last time she saw him make a face like that was when he was talking to Astrid.

The idea that he was looking at her like that makes the air catch in her lungs again. Like she’s drowning above water, but without the fear.

Fjord comes and sits with him, a few feet away from her and she looks between him, lean, eyes shadowed, and worry lines on his face, but he gives her a genuine smile, then settles into his chair, their friends sitting around him. Then she looks over at Caleb, quiet and contemplative, usually looking out of the corner of his eyes to see what Nott is doing, then Frumpkin, then...her. He makes his rounds and keeps his eye on everyone and listens as they try and plan their escape from this place.

Jester smiles to herself, and makes a note to ask the Traveler what he thinks about all this.

Thanks for reading! Here’s a bonus chunk that didn’t fit in anywhere:

Jester chews on the edge of her pen, looking at the Traveler. “So, what do I do when two boys like me?”

“I don’t understand the questions.”

“I mean, how do I pick?”

The Traveler looks up from his nails. “Why would you pick?”

[what-the-crit-is-going-on]

Episode 42

Leaving the Plank King's cave, the Nein and Captain Avantica make their way back down to the tavern they were about to enter before getting sidetracked, The Bloated Cup, where they settle down for drinks and conversation with the crew. They meet a gnome named Sauris Cade, a close friend to Avantica, who Jester picks a friendly bar fight with. They both get good hits in before Jester heals his wounds and calls the tussle off (even though she was definitely winning).

After the excitement dies down Beau pushes next to Avantica to ask what the plans are for their next journey out to sea. She begins explaining they are to set course for the shipwreck of Fjord's past in efforts to find the last sphere (and maybe Vandren's body or a hint to where he could be) before noticing a woman lurking nearby. She tensely shoos the woman off and informs the Nein that the woman is a right cunt named Allison and continues the explanation of their plans.

Once she's done she announces to the table she's retiring to her room and whispers to Fjord just what room that is before heading upstairs. The others don't seem to notice the exchange, other than Caduceus who always notices everything, and they finish up their drinks. Caleb and Jester have a talk about their captain, their half orc friend, and romance. Beau and Nott write a quick note to Allison telling her to meet them in the alley behind the inn but when they hand it off to her she simply crumples it up and drops it before giving the two the finger. They wait in the alley anyways for get but after like an hour they give up and join the group for a night walk on the island. Before she can get out the door though, Jester is pulled aside by Vera, the old quartermaster before Fjord took her spot, and is told to watch out for Fjord as he won't have been the only one Avantica has need to ruin.

On this walk they try to come up with a plan for how they can get out of this situation with Avantica and bag the sphere before her, using code names for the captain and her ship as well as the sphere and Uk'otoa temples, it's all a little confusing but they get through it to a plan. Get on board her ship tonight, find any leads she may have on where the next temple is, get there first and either destroy it or have Fjord use it for himself.

Fjord is set to “distract” Captain Avantica while Nott and Jester use one of Jester's doorway spells to break into her quarters in the Squall Eater. Once in, the two quietly search the room. Nott finds a hidden journal but when she pulls it out if it's hiding spot a cord is broken and gas begins to fill the cabin. The two hold their breath and keep looking, breaking open her desk drawer, loudly, to nab some boxes of jewelry and gems before hearing footsteps approach. Jester things fast and paints a hole in the ground with her new brush and they duck down into the crew's quarters, where one of the crew is sleeping. The footsteps enter the Captain's quarters and begin searching for the source of the noise. The girls hide under the bed if the sleeping crewman just in time to hear the figure fall through the hole and in front of the, now awake and startled, crewman who responds to the rude awakening by stabbing the guy multiple times. The two leave to get the poor guard to a healer for his stab wounds leaving Jester and Nott in the clear.

The thieves disguise themselves, Nott as Keg and Jester as Molly, and sneak into the deck of the ship where they notice a man in the crow's nest above them. In order to distract him Nott casts phantasmal force and makes him think his nest is on fire. With that distraction they run to the back of the boat and jump into the water, swimming under to docks to shore as they hear the man jump and painfully land on the deck. Avoiding detection they all reconvene at the bar and get into their room to show their findings.

The jewels and jewelry are just that, save for one that protects against poison, but the journal is much more interesting. Written in an odd language Caleb deciphers it to find it's a personal shorthand language only the Captain would be able to read. Well, the captain and him. It's a dream journal of sorts and a personal diary as well, that describes her dreams that Uk'otoa had given her before and also the events leading up to recently. Vandren performed rituals on her and that was when her dreams began. Once she sensed he was cold feet she tried to gift Vandren as a sacrifice to the false serpent but he escaped and she hasn't been able to find him since. She talks of how she wants to take Darktow from the current Plank King as who wouldn't bend their knee to someone with the power to command the ocean. And that is the bit that they need to see Avantica out of their lives. She also has notes on where the next temple could be. Caleb begins to write down one page of the decoded journal and prepare a cipher for the rest to send to the Plank King and it takes him all night.

The next morning, before they can set their plans in motion they are summoned to the Squall Eater for a crew meeting, putting them in the predicament of having stolen items on them while going to meet with the one they stole them from. Jester tosses the jewels in to sea when she gets the chance and Caleb hides the book among his various others.

Avantica wants to know if anyone saw anything last night but no one has an answer for her, so she has to rely on Vera to use magic to find her stolen items. Seeing her hands moving in arcane ways, Caleb casts his own spell and summons a wall of fire between them and the Captain, the action admitting guilt but let's be honest they were going to get caught anyways.

[stupidgamer48]

Episode 42 has come and gone I am going to have a fucking heart attack because of these people!

By the way! Since it is Thanksgiving in the United States next week, there will be no Critical Role on the 22nd! But, the regular schedule will resume the week after on the 29th! And, on the 23rd, the third Honey Heist will stream, so stay tuned for that!

As they move on to the bar, Beau asks Avuantika about how much she gives to the Plank King each time she reaches port. She basically explains there is basically a 25/30% to him with everything they find, outside of the repairs. Avauntika offers them a first round of drinks.

When Fjord asks, Avauntika tells of the mutiny with the previous and current Plank King that arose some time ago. She says that the current one follows the rules and was as popular during the uprising as he is now. While there are a few unsavory people, Avauntika’s reputation over the last decade or so causes people to not mess with her.

The bar they enter is lively with food and drinks. As they get drunk do, Avauntika’s crew sing about “the blessing of the serpent being upon them.” Many of who believing that Avauntika’s path will lead to their success. While only two of her crew are true believers of her quest.

Fjord makes sure that there is no hard feelings between the old Quarter Master, Vera, and him, to which she understands about what happened.

An individual they found in the bar explains that the Plank King, outside of bar fighting which is seen more as sport, is the law. And, with this individual Jester begins to fight him in good fun. To which he is hype. After a friendly fight, they playfully butt heads and separate.

After some time, Fjord and Avauntika discuses their next step and find a woman with curly blond hair watching them. Avauntika seems annoyed by the girl, Allison, being there. According to Avauntika, she seems to lie to the Plank King often about her ventures,

As they speak, Avauntika speaks of their next location, the Divers’ Grave, and Orly seems nervous. There is a legend of Deshila the Dreadful is connected to it. Avauntika is not too nervous about it. Fjord knows many myths are based on facts but Avauntika knows not of the origin.

As the night wraps up, Avauntika goes to her room at the inn and Nott and Beau go to speak to Alison. They give her a note to meet in the back ally. Caleb asks Jester why she doesn’t like Avauntika. Maybe be cause she is a murderer. Jester says nah, that isn’t the reason and they slowly bond of the shady things they did, for lack of a better phrase. Jester worries she may never see her mother again and Caleb assures her that she will. As they talk, Jester admits she is unsure about her feelings for Fjord and his feelings for her

As they talk, Jester asks subtly about Astrid and he admits that she was handsome and admits her...nose was the best for him. But, he wants to move on from the topic and Jester asks about how they are going to leave. Caleb, with his copper wire, says they will take care of Avauntika if they have to and says he wants to get off this island as soon as they take care of Fjord’s stuff. 

While they sit, Fjord and Clay talk about drinking and Clay admits it’s not his thing. He admits this place and Avauntika is dangerous and he asks if Fjord knows why they are doing this and warns him to be careful. Alison does not show up in the back ally where Beau and Nott where waiting.

The Nein check on their crew and discover their discomfort. After some consideration, they admit that if they do not arrive in about 5 or so days, the ship is theirs to depart with. Orly warns them of sharks, mermaids and other dangers in the Divers’ Grave. As they leave the pub, Vera grabs Jester and looks intently at her “She would not be the first she has left in ruin.” She departs with no other person hearing.

As the group talks, they use the name Tiffany to speak of Avauntika. The town is quiet. They weigh their options and lean towards leaving without “Tiffany” and making sure the “apricot tree” is secure. After a LOT of code I honestly lost track of because I was talking to a friend for a minute, they make a plan to have a few sneak onto Avauntika’s ship while Fjord distracts her.

Jester and Nott sneak though her stuff, a trap being triggered as they do. Nott picks up a book they found and Jester rips open a drawer of the desk. They take many of the jewelry boxes inside and descend into a hole made by Jester’s magic paint and put a rug over it to hide the hole. They fall into the chamber of a crew member under Avauntika’s office. They plant a jewel on the person sleeping and, as they hide under the bed, the person inspecting the office above falls through the hole and begins to stab the sleeping person. The man aggressively apologizes for the stabbing. They don’t notice the gem they placed on the stabbed person and the two sit in wait as they others go to get him some help.

Clay heals the man as Jester and Nott disguise themselves as Molly and Keg respectively and cause the person in the crow’s nest to be distracted with illusion fire. Accidentally seriously hurting them as they jumped from the nest. They broke something but were alive as they hit the deck. 

They all eventually regroup, with Nott and Jester dropping their illusions. Clay heals the man who jumped off the crows nest and says the fruit he picked may have caused his hallucinations. He spreads that info to the others.

They group together once more to look at the loot. As Caleb casts comprehend language, Jester and Nott recount the tale and theorize a way to avoid being implicated for it. Once Caleb deciphers her personal code, they find it is a dream journal.

Vanderon seems to be the one to have introduced Avauntika to Ukatoa. Fighting through dark waters, looking at signs, being promised power with leadership and drive. She speaks of him eventually getting cold feet and mistrusting the dreams. And, to eventually attempt to sacrifice him but he had managed to escape. She has been looking for Vaneron for months before looking to improve the boons given to her, eliminating those in her way in some way shape or form. And, while Darktow is powerful, nothing is more powerful than the sea. She speaks of those she hired, and the other dreams she had. And the newcomers. 

Not much is spoken about them. But, she says “this one may be more useful than Vanderon.” It is the last thing written before dropping off.

After decoding the book and one of the necklace, they decide to throw the rest of the jewels away. Beau tells the others the Plank King wants dirt on Avauntika but Fjord says they should get the most evidence before handing it to him.

They eventually decide to frame Avuntika and head to bed for the night, some watching over Caleb as he works on the cipher through the night. 

As they sleep, a knock is heard at each of their doors just before dawn. The knock comes from Bouldergut. Telling them “All hands on deck” for a company meeting. Something is not right among the crews. Something has happened (that something being the Mighty Nein  but it’s not quiet known that it is them).

As they make their way to the ship, Jester slides some jewels off of the side of the ship while Bouldergut is distracted. Everyone is standing on or near Avauntika’s ship. Avauntika informs everyone of what has happened overnight including the stealing (from unknown assailants) and a stabbing.

As they talk, Vera is casting a spell to locate objects for the missing inventory of Avauntika. Caleb casts a spell to create a wall of flame as her spell completes. And that is where we pick up IN TWO WEEKS!

As Caleb finishes the spell, we begin to wonder what fate will befall the Nein once the session resumes. Will they escape? Or will the Nein meet their match?

Here’s to bright futures, big smiles and good times with some hell to be raised.

And, until two weeks from now, is it Thursday yet?

[fidgemimic]

Anyway Beau fucking hates the new wizards for like the first month or two. Also this gets rambly and fic-layout-y as hell. i am very tired and have a headache so bls forgive me

Beau hates both of these new Zemnian assholes to be entirely honest, but she’s willing to give them an iota of a chance after everything finally goes down and the immediate ramifications of turning the Empire’s greatest war mages/archmages into traitors are done with.

She’s absolutely not the only one that doesn’t trust them - fuck not even Caleb trusts them completely and he’s the reason they even bothered to defect in the first place. But the gang at this point is willing to put enough trust into them that they won’t just straight up slaughter them all in a heartbeat.

It doesn’t help that they’re both disgustingly proper.

Backs still ramrod straight, hands folded neatly in their lap or attentively behind their backs. They make eye contact with anyone who dares to speak no matter who it’s too. They’re attentive and quiet - and the nein can see them calculating scenarios and escape routes and weaknesses in their heads any time someone dares to move.

Eodwulf, to everyone’s benefit, seems to easily swap between the cold persona into one that’s a little too competent socially to not be forced and practiced to perfection over the years. He can easily hold a conversation with Fjord and Clay, even drawing laughter from Jester at his quips and playing along with her strange stories; Though not the ones about the Traveller. 

(The first time she mentions him, things suddenly go horribly, terribly wrong. He doesn’t hurt her, of course, but they can feel the air change. He snaps into another personality entirely - disgusted and enraged at the concept that he’s sitting with a heretic of all people. It’s like something cruel has taken over him, drawing curses and cruelty from his lips that bring Jester to tears before anyone even fully realizes the situation. It’s not the first time it happens, but it startles everyone - Eodwulf included. Jester doesn’t receive an apology until much later, once Caleb pulls him away from the group and speaks to him quietly. No one cares to ask what was said - not until Jester grows curious a few days later and asks Wulf. Beauregard only barely overhears it - glaring daggers at the half elf all the same. 

“He said that it was.... it was hard to relearn what should be - what is - acceptable. Hard to relearn what it is normal people see as being non-issues. It’s no excuse for my horrid behavior, but it is... difficult... to know after so long.”

Beauregard.... hates him a little less for that. He’s dangerous, and she keeps an eye on him, but it’s easier to remember that he’s not the first or only person who’s had these issues before. If she speaks to Caleb later about what to expect, it’s for the safety of the group - obviously. She needs to know what she needs to look out for so that she can swoop in and roundhouse kick a bitch in the throat if push comes to shove. But if she manages to catch the hints - the sudden stillness, the tightening of his jaw, the impulsive twitch of fingers as if readying a spell - she jumps in and distracts him with a flourish and desperate ease that would’ve made Molly proud. Eodwulf is easy to decipher once you know what the signs are.

Astrid, however, is not.

She radiates an air of authority that would make Beau sick if it wasn’t from a woman that was just so fucking hot. Where Eodwulf finds a place to integrate himself socially, Astrid sits back and watches from just far enough away that it’s obvious she’s not really part of the team.

It’s intentional - and she’s said as much to the rest when they ask her about it.

“I have little reason to trust that the lot of you won’t kill me tonight. I am fine here. Thank you.”

Beau can tell that Caleb is torn with this information. He’s been torn since the two of them arrived - all three of them have been desperately trying to figure out where they stand with each other in a way that The Nein would find hilarious if it wasn’t a rom-com script stitched together with trauma and guilt and all of the disgusting waste the empire had tried to shove down their throats.

Caleb and Eodwulf are the only two willing to approach her for conversation with positive results. Fjord had tried and given up after two weeks of clipped answers and obvious disinterest. Clay wanders over from time to time with his teapot and empty stories to try and ensure she doesn’t feel left out. She never drinks his tea - not even pretending to in the way that Clay often pretends to drink liquor - but he hardly seems to mind.

No one knows what it is that causes the outburst. One moment, they’re surrounding the fire, chatting aimlessly while Clay’s slow drawl acts as white noise in the background. Then the loud crash of ceramic shattering against the ground bring everyone to silence. Their eyes are drawn to the duo behind them, where Clay sits as calm as ever - his eyes only marginally wider to indicate the barest hint of shock. His teapot lay in pieces on the ground between them.

Astrid raises from her spot, cup still cradled in her hands before she deliberately allows that to slip and shatter on the ground as well.

“Oh, how unfortunate. Clumsy me.” 

When she wanders off, it’s Eodwulf that followers behind her, with Caleb nervously trailing close behind.

Beauregard approaches Clay as he works from his place on the ground, carefully picking up shards of what used to be beautifully painted ceramic.

“It’s no issue, Ms Beauregard. Simply an oversight on my part - I must have upset her and not noticed. It can be fixed easily, no harm done.”

The three wizards return not 10 minutes later. Astrid is silent, as are Eodwulf and Caleb. There is no apology, no attempt to speak to her, only the same carefully blank expression that’s been on her face since the day they found her. Something about the simple lack of remorse or empathy makes Beau’s skin crawl.

Beauregard hates Astrid.

And she makes damn sure that she shows it. 

Beauregard grants this woman none of the ‘pleasantries’ she gives her friends - drudging up every ounce of malice that she has and directing it solely towards this woman. Astrid is everything she hates wrapped into a package in just the right manner that she doesn’t want to tear her limb from limb immediately. She’s the embodiment of the empire, of everything wrong with it and what it does to people. She’s cruel and calculating and Beau can’t help but imagine how quickly and easily this woman could end all of their lives. Poison their food stores while she keeps a small sachel of her own rations close.How easy it would be for her to slip close enough to Caleb to slit his throat with a hiss of ‘traitor’ on her lips even after all he’s done to get them to safety.

She feels predictable and not all at once. It throws Beau for a loop when Astrid finally - finally - responds to her constsant prodding. Not with anger, but with a smile.

The woman is quick-witted and cold. Her words are like daggers being driven into every weak spot Beauregard has and it’s a show of power that drives her fucking insane with how easily the quips come to her. The only thing keeping The Mighty Nein from tearing them apart is the reactions that the fight seems to garner from Eodwulf and Caleb of all people. 

The two of them are huddled together, muttering and chuckling in Zemnian. They commentate with small gasps and giggles and muttered ‘oh, sheisse’s that - through the anger and annoyance - remind Beau of the catty assholes she used to go to school with as a young girl. It doesn’t help that Astrid seems to feed off of their strange new relationship, and in the midst of it all Beauregard realizes something:

This, the woman that’s tearing into her with abandon and thriving off of the attention of her two best friends, the woman who’s catty and self-assured - not because she knows she has power and statusadn training - but because she knows she’s clever enough to out-shittalk someone, is the closest they’ve gotten to seeing who she is.

She’s not sure why she decided to keep it going after that. She found what she was looking for - a small note that Astrid wasn’t just some hollowed out war machine. Something that showed her that there was still a person in there. Hell, she found the tattered remains of Something in all three of them that she hardly expected. 

But Astrid was quick to leave them again - back ramrod straight and shoulder squared. Face carefully neutral. Beau, in all of her horrible terrible no good very bad wisdom, continued the fight for as long as she could, as often as she could.

It was slow going, and every so often Astrid would fall completely silent and unresponsive to Beauregard’s jabs in a way that was uncomfortably familiar, but over time it didn’t even take Beau’s stupid attempts at fighting for Astrid to make quips and clever comments to other members of the team.

It felt like a miracle at that point.

As much as Beau wanted to continue hating Astrid after that point - as much as she wanted to still hold that bone-deep distrust that made sure she had a hand around her staff any time either of those fuckers get closer to one of her friends, she found that she couldn’t. Not really. They were doing better, and if she ever admitted to the fact that she was a little bit proud and a little bit protective of them at this point, she would have to throw herself off a cliff or something.

They were the ghosts of people, slowly but surely remembering who they could have been if everything hadn’t gone so fucking horribly. If she noticed the way that Caleb’s nervous half-smiles turned into stupid childish grins any time Eodwulf or Astrid said anything in Zemnian, or if she noticed how they slowly started to lay their bedrolls out next to each other with less and less space between them each night - that’s not her fuckin problem. That’s not her bullshit garbage ‘friends-to-lovers’ ‘hurt/comfort’ drama novel plot, and she could frankly care less so long as it was a decision that they got to make themselves.

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E7 (Feb 27, 2018)

There were a few more (vague) references to the first campaign in this episode than usual, so I’ve tried to keep them non-specific/spoiler-free for folks who are still catching up.

Tonight’s guests are Marisha Ray and Liam O’Brien!

Announcements: Marisha’s feeling better but now Matt’s sick (general consensus is that he’ll be feeling well enough to DM on Thursday); Vox Machina: Origins number 5 will be released on March 7; Laura and Travis will be at Emerald City Comic Con, where you can pick up a physical copy of Vox Machina: Origins number 1 at the Dark Horse booth; ECCC Critter meetups will be on Thursday March 1st at 7PM for a live watch of the show and then March 3rd from 7PM to midnight, both at the Raygun Lounge; the C2E7 podcast is available this Thursday; shout-out to the awesome mods in the community; tomorrow at 11AM Pacific, Brian will be hosting a stream with Sideshow Collectibles, unveiling a statue (tragically not of Sam’s body).

@critrolestats​ for this episode:

Beau has rolled the most natural 20s this campaign. Her total is 13: one in episode one, and then two in each subsequent session.

Khary’s opening roll was the first time a guest player’s first roll was a natural one; Kit Buss was the only guest to start out with a natural 20.

There have already been 18 references to Judas Priest’s “Breaking the Law” in the campaign. 13 of them happened in this last episode.

Khary mentioned to Liam ages ago that he was about to start DMing for his daughter, which is when they started trying to get schedules to match up for his guest appearance.

Liam’s having fun getting specific with spell components rather than going for the “Apple remote” approach of using a focus to cast spells. The descriptions will mainly focus on more novel spells (he won’t still be describing Chromatic Orb in detail at level 20).

The Geek and Sundry Facebook/Instagram has the video of Khary destroying the cursed die. The pieces were stolen from Dani’s desk over the weekend. The plot thickens.

Marisha talks about how it can be fun to set yourself up for failure a bit, like with the ball bearings. Everyone decides on the next T-shirt: “Critical Role: Embrace the Failure”.

Liam has a bucket list of spells for Caleb, some of which he doesn’t want to mention yet because they’re story-related, but he does really want to get his hands on Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion.

Marisha felt a little warm and fuzzy inside knowing that Beau nearly had her own practically-goldfish moment. She was less concerned about the fall damage than what was potentially at the bottom of the pit.

Gif of the Week: ♪It’s DnD Beyoooooond!♪

The reason Caleb and Nott are together is because “they’re two pieces of garbage floating around in the world like plastic bags”. They were in a little podunk town jail; it wasn’t a major thing, but it was where they met. They both have no place to go. Caleb has “things that he sticks to, but his moral code is dicey. Survival is good, getting by is good, breathing.” Everyone’s still figuring out the relationships, but Liam has been surprised at how much Caleb cares about Nott’s safety.

Both agree that the short rest was worth it.

Beau is surprised by her own fighting ability. She’s always had some natural skill as a reckless fighter and basic training from the Cobalt Soul monks, and Marisha’s been describing her attacks that way: wild haymakers, etc.. “No one’s going to start as fucking Bruce Lee.” But now she can take those solid natural instincts and build upon them, trying to show a progression. Even Marisha was surprised when she succeeded in catching the arrow out of the air.

Liam gets asked who smelled worse: Caleb or Vax in the armor. Pre-year break, Vax smelled “weirder”.

Beau has theories about Caleb’s shut-down last episode. “Beau has Percy Syndrome: she thinks she’s the smartest person in the room right now.” “Caleb is not dying to know much about any of you fuckers.” Combination of not knowing them too well yet and wanting to keep his head down.

Fanart of the Week: Shakäste and Nott!

Another winner: Vox Machina: An Exandrian Musical! Everyone’s been listening to it on repeat. Marisha: “Matt and I cried so much.”

Beau didn’t see the rescue of Nott as risking her life to save her. “She has teenage arrogance, ‘I’m going to live forever!’” She’s driven by cockiness at this point. She knew she could close the gap, so she thought she was the one who could do it.

Had any of them thought about killing the baby manticore? Beau threw out the idea of selling the baby manticore, but she was mainly concentrating on getting in and out and not dying. Caleb thought that if they could kill everything in the room without dying themselves, they should do that.

Brian asks about the grey-morality tone of the new campaign. Marisha talks about the balance you have to strike, “almost a metagame element”, of wanting to be a team. Liam points out that character flaws introduce an element of unpredictability. Marisha notes that the same character qualities can often shift from "good” to “bad” and back, depending on the situation. Marisha: “Tonally, Vox Machina acted emotionally a lot more so far. We don’t have that yet, that connection.” Liam: “It feels like we all want to mess with the system a little more and come at it with a sideways approach, just to see what happens.” Marisha describes how they set the tone with Vox Machina earlier, and how that gives them a little leeway in the new campaign. Brian zeroes in on the notion of “the human heart in conflict with itself” being a great source of drama and excitement for a viewer. “As you guys get closer in the game, those stakes get higher.”

The Nott-Caleb relationship was a last-second decision that “has complicated the fuck out of what I’ve got going on,” but Liam’s delighted to have that complication, because that kind of thing is the heart of the game for them as actors. He points out how episode 85′s massive emotional impact was the perfect example of that kind of messiness.

What Beau doesn’t like about Molly is the same stuff that Beau doesn’t especially like about herself. Marisha suspects it’s the sort of thing that can develop into mutual respect in the long run.

Liam gets asked about Caleb’s moment at the end of the episode. Marisha: “Answer! Answer! You never answer shit!” Liam brings up how Taliesin’s talked about how Matt will take the bare-bones story they provide him and flesh it out in a surprising way. Marisha: “No one’s backstories or secrets are safe from Matt Mercer at this moment.”

Talks Machina After Dark:

Fave tracks from Vox Machina: An Exandrian Musical: “Burn”, “Animus”, “Dear Kaylie”, “It’s Quiet in Town”, “The Room Where it Happens”.

Sometimes Matt and Marisha will go over specific events in the battle where a single moment was clutch. Nott going in when she did saved Fjord from a full round of attacks at advantage. Beau saved Nott by jumping in even with the attack of opportunity, because with her 1 HP, the next full round of attacks would’ve killed her. Jester didn’t have the speed to get to Nott, so Beau saved her by getting her closer to Jester, but then Jester went down... and Fjord succeeded on his wisdom saving throw, which let him save her so she could save Nott. No matter how messy things seem in the moment, laying them out like that show how it can all work out.

Note-taking in D&D! Liam, on trying to decipher scribbles post-game: “Either slow down when you write or don’t bother.” Without the pressure of the cameras, Marisha would do things differently. In the last campaign, she had one book for specific enemies she could refer back to, but fell off on keeping it up around the time they were mainly just fighting specific dragons rather than dungeon-crawl stuff. She currently takes notes chronologically, with specific symbols/annotations to indicate names of cities, NPCs, plot points, etc. Liam: “What are all the dickbutts for?” Marisha: “That’s Laura. She keeps stealing my notebook. ...no, that’s not true.” Marisha brings up some advice she got: keep your notes concise and make them look interesting; she also does doodles now that can draw her attention while flipping through and looking for something in particular.

Theories on Shakäste? Liam: “I think he’s the wind.” Marisha: “I think he’s what we might be in 20 years if we all live.”

“What were your immediate thoughts after Nott stabbed the manticore baby?” Marisha: “The fuck?! (...) Just because it was necessary doesn’t mean it was any less brutal.” Liam: “Caleb has seen Nott do wild, unpredictable things that have a high rate of success. She is a Golden Snitch. It just kind of works out.”

[thequeenofmyownscreen]

Fifteen things I noted about CR2E45 “The Stowaway” and the Talks Machina about it :

these are getting long again y'all

Nott tinkers more arrowheads filled with explosives... In the part of the ship where the cannons are. There was a real possibility, for a moment, based on a single roll, that the campaign would end there.

Beau, after Fjord asked what Nott and her were talking about in Halfling : "We were saying our daily prayers." Fjord : "Y'all have daily prayers ??" Beau : "Yeah, it's called, "Get the fuck out of our business." "

Deborah Ann Woll !!!! I love her !!!!!!!! The card for Twiggy reads "She's cool and rad." Yeah she is !!!

Another ball of mystery ???? Caleb's head is gonna explode.

They change their ship's name from "the SquallEater" to "the BallEater". Becquse of course. After The Mistake, this is the best name.

Fjord was so proud when Beau asked for him to teach her to train her as a first mate. I love their friendship.

Nott's adventures in black powder continues : she now has two boxes of ammo for her gun she stole in Hupperdook. Everyone looks horrified.

Episode 45 : the gang discover some strange weirdo and some ancient technology and they spend 4 hours trying to decipher it

WELP THEY GOT SUCKED INTO A WEIRD DIMENSION

I love that the office room was litteraly a trap for Caleb. And that Nott was enabling it his addiction to books big time.

This episode should have been called "It's dragging Travis' night !" because between him touching the glass and getting sucked into another room, and the "one of our players *glares* pulled a thing and briefly derailed a lot of things..." at the beginning when explaining The Search for Grog, it's a party !

I was not exepecting a f*cking dragon this early in the campaign... For a good reason ! This is horrible, even if they weren't all separated. Both Jester and Fjord cast Blink and it saved their lives (especially Jester).

Caduceus, coming out of the wall like a reverse Homer Simpson : "We're running ! It's bad !!"

It was the worst ending of a battle. My god. When Caleb left, Liam was visibly torturing himself about what he should have done. Nott is the mvp of the night, the heroïc moment of taking the dragon's attack of opportunity to save Jester's life and escaping with 1 fucking hit point... And the amazing visual of Twiggy, the last gnome standing, who killed a dragon, and she was the only one to witness it. So beautiful.

Ashley and Brian are engaged, and Brian will now be called Mr. Ashley Johnson. Matt says it can only give him a better reputation than the one he has now. Truth though, when Brian talked about how his engagement made him feel, I almost cried.

[poetryofchrist]

The Ubiquitous Silluq, Ga'ya, and Metheg

Just what is this little half-length mark, this 'short perpendicular stroke' (Lambdin), this tittle under a consonant and to the left of the vowel sign (if any)?

Is it an indication of the tonic (Haïk-Vantoura), the silluq that occurs almost without fail at the end of every verse? Or is it an indication of a long /a/ vowel rather than a short /o/ vowel? Or both?

There are many occurrences sometimes even on a word that would be otherwise without accent since it is joined by a maqaf to the next word. 

E.g. Zechariah 14:2, וְאָסַפְתִּ֨י אֶת־כָּל־הַגּוֹיִ֥ם ׀ אֶֽל־יְרוּשָׁלִַם֮ לַמִּלְחָמָה֒, 

Zech 14:2 one of 7762 instances where silluq is the lone musical sign prior to a maqaf

This is a clue that the sign may not be playing a musical role here. It is certainly not an accented syllable. It is redundant since the reciting note is already /e/. It is not an indication of a short or long vowel. It does not appear to fit any of Lambdin's usage notes.

There are only 186 of these 7762 instances where the musical sign is not the silluq, and of these, 54 are on the first word where an opening accent can indicate a connection to the prior verse. 

This music may be heard as 'Bribery at rest'.

Incidentally, 1 Samuel 8:3, וַיִּ֨קְחוּ־שֹׁ֔חַד וַיַּטּ֖וּ מִשְׁפָּֽט  is an example of a significant musical sign in a word that might otherwise have none, given its attachment via maqaf to the next word.

But it turns out that the music paints a simple ironic picture and does not conflict with the flow of the verse or seeing the first two words as a single unit. Again Haïk-Vantoura's key fits the lock without difficulty.

Does the great Grammarian, Gesenius, make any explanation of this sign easier? He defines several classes of silluq/metheg/ga'ya: 

... i.e. a bridle, indicates most frequently the secondary stress or counter-tone, as opposed to the principal tone marked by the accents. It serves, however, in other cases to point out that the vowel should not be hastily passed over in pronunciation, but should be allowed its full sound. Hence the other names of Metheg are Ma'arikh, i.e. lengthener, and Ga'ya, i.e. raising of the voice, which is Great Ga'ya with long vowels, otherwise Little Ga'ya.

This is the easiest part of his dissertation. He goes on for two pages to describe the light metheg, and when it is omitted, and the firm or indispensable metheg, the grave metheg, the euphonic ga'ya, and for the first two of these, there are lists and sublists of examples and exceptions. 

It's so much easier to sing it. How many times does this sign really appear and can we tell anything from its placement that might help distinguish its multiple possible uses?

It occurs 41,305 times in the Tanakh. Of these, 2,223 are in the first word of the verse, a 20,880 are in the last word of a verse. 

So 18,202 are in the middle words somewhere. The first and last ones will resolve using the Haïk-Vantoura deciphering key to recitation beginning and ending on the tonic /e/. So will the middle ones unless one has some fuzzy logic to bypass them. 

Gen 2:7

I tested some of Gesenius' examples. He cites הָֽאָדָ֗ם as a light metheg. It is frequent in Genesis 2. My music program ignores these (see 2:7 on the left) so as not to pull the melody down to the tonic without better cause. Haïk-Vantoura did not ignore them. They can be lightly passed over by a singer whether on the current reciting note or a drop to the tonic in cases such as these. They do seem unnecessary. Given that the first syllable is open, it does not seem required for pronunciation either.

Gen 4:25

Gesenius cites Genesis 4:25 as a firm or indispensable Metheg. My music program does not ignore this one. 

You can see that it impacts the musical line and emphasizes this word to some extent. He also cites Psalms 138:2 but in the WLC, this metheg does not occur, so it can't be very indispensable.

That's my beef with the long and complex paragraphs. They are unreadable and they do not all stand up to the data when they are read in detail. His example stands up for Job 41:26 (34) but is inconsequential since it is the first word of the verse and so signifies the default tonic as the start point in any case. 

In the following example from Joshua, one might think that the music is depleted by this signal. Perhaps I should ignore more of the inner verse methegs, if only I could distinguish them from a real silluq. Each composer can consider if the pulling down of the vocal line is suitable. It depends I suppose of what you think about Caleb's daughter and nephew inciting Caleb to  give them a blessing. 

Joshua 15:18 where the metheg maybe is not a silluq.

"Every kind of light metheg" (of which he cites 6 subtypes), says Gesenius, "can be changed into a conjunctive accent." Unbelievable sentence. But he cites 2 Chronicles 34:11 as an instance. וּלְקָרוֹת֙ אֶת־הַבָּ֣תִּ֔ים אֲשֶׁ֥ר הִשְׁחִ֖יתוּ מַלְכֵ֥י יְהוּדָֽה

2 Chr 34:11b - definitely not a morphing of a metheg into a conjunctive accent!

The grave metheg (ga'ya in the more limited sense) he cites an example from Psalms 1:3. But at the beginning of the word it has little impact. The word is very frequent without a metheg. That would one way of distinguishing metheg from silluq: compare it to the other uses of the stem and its word-form. This could be done programmatically.

For the euphonic metheg, Gesenius says very little. And he concludes his details with Lambdin's general comment that distinguishing an /a/ from an /o/ is a dominant usage of the metheg. Having seen just how prevalent the qamats may become an /o/, however, I doubt that the metheg is adequate to the task. In this, of course, it violates my sense that the music and the vowels are separate magisteria. So one is left with the ambiguity unresolved.

Who will explain this little vertical jot well? Gesenius is certainly exhausting in his hierarchic approach. 

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[imfrozentrash]

Hansanna Two-Shot: “An Unwanted Reunion” (Part 1)

Hans ends up with Anna and courts with each other after a year. Han’s realism versus Anna’s optimism, she finally encourages him to take her to see his family in The Southern Isles. The characters used in here are based on Elizabeth Rudnick’s “A Frozen Heart”.

Author’s Note: This is also a part of the Hannatines 2017 event Day #1. I will post the final part two on February 12th when the event officially begins!

“Come on, Hans. It can’t be that bad.”

As their ship begins to dock in the familiar harbor, Hans stands next to Anna in a passive-aggressive manner. With his arms folded and glaring out at the distance, he continues to give her the cold shoulder. This can’t possibly be happening…

Although he has warned his wife-to-be about his family’s behavior, she stubbornly ignores his warnings. But he can’t blame her because of the relationship she has with her older sister. Unlike Elsa, Hans’ older brothers intentionally and purposefully made his childhood a living hell that he couldn’t wait to get out of the kingdom. But when Hans looks at Anna and sighs, he offers a gentle smile. At least it will make her happy.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you again,” Anna reassures. Despite Hans’ doubt, he grabs her by the waist and pulls her close in reassurance for the sake of her well-being.

“Princess Anna and Prince Hans,” the couple turns and sees the captain of the ship in a formal bow of respect. “We have made it safely to The Southern Isles.”

“Thank you,” Anna goes up to the captain and encourages him to stand up straight. “I appreciate you and the crew’s hard work. Go and enjoy yourself for the next couple of days. You all deserve it.” Hans chuckles to himself when he sees the said captain fluster in front of the princess.

“Yes your highness,” with another quick bow, the captain departs to another section of the ship.

Hans sneaks up behind Anna and kisses her neck as he wraps his arms around her waist. A little startled, Anna shrieks then laugh at her fiance’s usual flirty behavior. “And this is why I want to marry you.” Anna turns around and looks up at the tall man in wonder and awe. There is no doubt about his handsome and cunning charm, but Anna knows how vulnerable Hans can get which draws her even closer to love him. With a flirty smile, Hans leans closer as his eyes flutter shut.

“Nope!” Anna says, pushing him out of his embrace. Hans is left puzzled with his arms out where his fiance should be and looks disappointingly at her. “I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to distract me from seeing your family. Now come on!” Anna does not wait for him as he sees her already stepping out onto the dock. Hans straightens himself and sighs out loud, looking up at the gloomy and familiar sky. And with that, he follows suit.

Hans walks arm in arm with Anna down the long castle corridors as they are escorted into the family room where everyone is awaiting their arrival. Without a doubt, Arendelle is much brighter and welcoming compared to The Southern Isles. As Hans reminisces the memories of running away from his teasing older brothers down the same halls, he surpasses them and tries to compose himself for Anna. The atmosphere is gloomy as a storm comes closer outside the windows. The hallway is neatly kept to the fine detail and is beautifully decorated but it is no home to Hans.

“Prince Hans,” he snaps out of his daydream and looks up at the servant who escorted them. “They are just through these doors. Are you ready your majesty?” she asks softly to Anna.

Anna unsuccessfully calms her excitement with an enthusiastic nod. Hans chuckles as did the servant. The guards behind them step forward and push open the large doors. With a deep breath, Hans leads her inside.

As expected, all twelve princes of The Southern Isles are scattered around the room with their respectable wives or accompanies for the evening. As interrupted by everyone’s small talk, everyone’s attention turns to the doorway and a long silence follows. No one says anything as they all stare at each other.

Anna feeling uncomfortable in awkward silences steps a little forward and speaks up. “Hello,” she timidly says, in a formal curtsy. “I’m Princess-”

“BABY BROTHER!” much to the couple’s surprise, all twelve older gentlemen rush to the doorway in a football style manner. Before Anna could get hurt, a guard quickly but gently pulls her to the side as everyone watches poor Hans get tackled by his older siblings. The ladies in the room join in with each other in a comfortable laugh as the scene continues on.

“Princess Anna,” one of the woman steps forward and they all follow suit. “Welcome,” with a warm smile, they curtsy in unison.

“O-Oh!” Anna quickly curtsy as well. “Thank you.”

“I am Helga, wife of Lars who is Hans’ older brother. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to meet you all too.”

“Come, we have much to discuss over tea!” with enthusiasm, the party of ladies encourage the shy young princess with them out of the room.

“Oh, is Hans going to be okay?” Anna looks over her shoulder and sees a body of handsome gentlemen in a dog pile, as they shout happiness and jubilee for their youngest brother’s return. Before Anna got an answer, she is already escorted out of the room.

“Get off!” Hans yells over their loud voices and large bodies. “What is wrong with you guys?”

“Alright guys, leave him be.” Caleb, the eldest son, says with a sigh of exhaustion. They all comply and Hans gasps as he’s finally able to breathe after being painfully suffocated. He stands up from the carpet and brushes out his jacket. Hans stares at what seems to be unfamiliar strangers in disbelief and waiting for an explanation for their peculiar behavior.

“Come on Hans,” Rudi smiles, shaking him with excitement. “Mother and father will be back soon. Let’s go prepare for their coming so they can properly meet Princess Anna!”

“Onwards!” Runo, Rudi’s twin brother, announces in his usual humorous tone as they follow outside of the room. As they exit, Hans stands there, feeling completely out of place all of a sudden. What in the world just happened? Those weren’t my brothers. He looks up and sees his older brother Lars standing by the other doorway and waits for him. Lars has always been the nicest to Hans out of everyone else in the family, and he really appreciates him for that. He expects that he understands what it’s like to be teased so he doesn’t do it to Hans out of pleasure. But judging by the sudden switch in realities, it seems that Hans is in a castle with completely new people.

“Are you coming Hans?” he asks softly, holding out his hand. Hans sighs with a gentle smile and catches up with him. With a happy pat on the back, Lars escorts him with to the others. Out of the corner of Hans’ eye, he thought he caught a glimpse of Lars frowning. Have things really changed around here?

Although Anna is more sociable than her older sister, she is still overwhelmed by everyone’s enthusiasm to know her better. She sits timidly in a chair as the men and women surround her in deep interest. Hans sits next to her and he flashes a look of apology to her. Anna reassuringly but nervously smiles back as she unsuccessfully lies that she is okay with so much attention. Much to their relief, a guard enters the room and disrupts their gathering.

“The King and Queen have arrived.” he reports, standing at attention.

“Thank you,” Caleb speaks up and puts down his wine glass on the nearby table. “Let’s all wait outside in the hall for their arrival. Hans and Princess Anna,” he smiles down at the young couple. “I’m sure mother and father will be pleased to see you greet them first.” Hans has no time to question his sudden act in leadership, so he stands up as Anna follows. All twenty-six of them go to the entrance ballroom and wait for the King and Queen.

“I’m so nervous,” Anna whispers quietly to Hans.

“Me too,” Hans meant to say to himself but noticed he said it out loud when Anna looks up at him with sad eyes. Hans locks arms with her tightly and kisses the top of her head. He puts on a brave face and Anna relaxes in his touch. Everyone is quiet when the front doors to the castle open. In comes marching a good dozen of guards as the distant rain echoes through the halls. As they part like the Red Sea, the crowd is greeted with the King and Queen themselves as the walk in their home. Everyone bows and curtseys in respect.

“Hans,” when his name is called, he looks up and sees his mother in her natural beauty. She smiles brightly and holds out her arms. Hans stares in awe and bites back crying in front of everyone. “Welcome home, my son.” He stands up and quickly makes haste to her and they embrace each other tightly. Along with Lars, the Queen never doubted Hans’ ambition and the success he will make for his family. She always showed compassion and understanding when it comes to her youngest son and he couldn’t have asked for a better mother than her.

“Son,” the two of them released their hug when the King called for the Prince’s attention. In the duration of his childhood, he never received any form of gratitude from his father because he was always busy with his older brothers. And judging from this exact moment, Hans can’t decipher his father’s emotions. All the King did was place his hand on his son’s shoulder with a firm grip. No words were exchanged but Hans knew what his father intended. This is really happening… After all these years. Hans grows a big stupid grin of happiness and his mother can’t help but chuckle at his loss for words.

“Darling, isn’t there someone that you would like for us to meet?” The Queen smiles. His brothers can’t help but laugh.

“Oh right!” Hans quickly composes himself back to reality and turns around to his fiance. He couldn’t be more happy to see an excited and reassuring smile on Anna. “Mother and Father, this is Princess Anna of Arendelle. My fiance.”

“Your majesties,” Anna bows lower in a sign of respect. “Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home.”

“No thank you, my dear,” the Queen steps forward and encourages Anna to stand tall. “Thank you for taking care of our Hans.”

“Mother…” Hans gasps in awe.

“We’ll be looking forward to accommodating ourselves with your kingdom, young Princess.” the King says stepping next to his wife. Anna softly bows and smiles at both of them. “Now, why won’t we all gather in the dining room and settle ourselves with each other? I’m sure your younger brother has much to say about his year away from home.” the King claps his hands in eagerness. Hans and Anna walk behind the crowd.

“I can’t believe it…” Hans whispers loud enough for Anna to hear. “They… They actually…”

Anna hugs his arm tighter and smiles up at him as they walk side by side. “Of course they do, Hans.”

The rest of the evening was unbelievable. For the first time in Hans’ life, he felt a belonging to The Southern Isles. The dinner table did not consist of the usually quiet and heavy silence but brightened up the room with warm laughter and conversation. Aside from the brief moments of embarrassing Hans in front of Anna from when he was little, Hans surprisingly found himself laughing with them instead of shunning himself away in shame.

Just like their dinner gathering, the next few days consists of everything Hans had hoped for during his childhood. Hans rides his horse Sitron with his brothers and their own steeds in the meadows, Anna bonds with everyone she meets when the two of them go out into the village, the entire family gathers for their meals, the King and Queen show their happiness and appreciation for Anna in front of Hans, and everything beyond Hans’ expectations with the joyful reunion.

One night, when Hans and Anna sleep with each other in his bedroom, Anna is awakened by a conversation down the hall. She looks over and sees the handsome prince still in a deep sleep. Drawn by her usual curiosity, she slowly gets up, throws on a robe and tiptoes to the door. She peers through the crack of the door and overhears the King and a few of Hans’ brothers. It is inaudible to her and she sees them walking further down the hallway and into a room. What could they be talking about at this hour? Anna looks back at the sleeping Hans and slowly pushes the door open, but immediately stops herself. Anna, what are you doing?! You know better than to eavesdrop, especially on your fiance’s family. They’ll never forgive you!

Her thoughts are interrupted by loud thuds quickly following each other. She looks back at Hans and still sees him unphased. Such a heavy sleeper… Anna peers outside the door and sees no guards running towards the disturbing noise. Thinking that someone may have gotten hurt, she quickly tiptoes down the hall and up to the slightly closed door where they went inside.

“But you promised us, father!”

“We can’t keep it up much longer!”

“Silence! You two will disrupt the entire kingdom at this hour!” Based on the voices, she imagines the King and the two twins, Runo and Rudi in a heated argument. Knowing better than to intrude, she stays back in the shadows.

“Father, how long do we have to keep up this nonsense? We did what you asked. Everyone did.” Runo argues.

“So please hand them over, we’re all getting impatient,” Rudi says.

“What these?” Anna hears the rustling of papers and the opening of a drawer. “You can have these once I’m satisfied your brother leaves tomorrow for Arendelle.” Runo and Rudi cheer with each and the sound of a high five echoes outside the door. “Your brother is… unique. You know how he is with us. Especially your mother. So all I’m asking is a few more hours and you’ll get your damn deeds to your respective islands.” Anna could not believe her ears. The King… He’s bribing his sons to play nice with Hans? Everyone? Even their wives? Anna feels tears welling up in her eyes and decides she’s heard enough. She turns to run back to Hans’ bedroom but her robe catches the door, causing it to creek open wider. She is exposed to a surprised and speechless King and pair of Princes as they are to an emotional Princess.

“Princess Anna,” Rudi steps forward and breaks the silence between them. “I’m sorry, have we woken you?” Anna stands there, knowing she can’t run and stands firm as tears slowly run down her face. “Princess?”

“How dare you, all of you!” Anna quietly yells. “Hans was finally happy to be with his family again, in his home.”

“Princess Anna,” the King steps forward, trying to calm her down. “Please go back to bed. It is very late.” Unknown to her stubbornness, she doesn’t move.

“You actually bribed everyone that he loves to love him back. And for what? Contracts to neighboring kingdoms and islands?”

“Princess, I assure you it’s not what it looks-”

“Hans was right about you all.” she interrupts Runo. “We should have never come here. You are all cruel people to treat your own family like that. Up until this week, I had to force Hans to even mention his family to me. For once, he forgot about how much he felt alone and abandoned when he was a child. Hans actually believed that you all changed.” Anna bites back her tongue, knowing she shouldn’t be treating her fiance’s royal family like this.

But she knows what she is doing right, she thinks? They need to be put in their place and realize how their behavior is unheard of in a family. So without thinking, she adds,

“You should all be ashamed of yourselves.” Anna expects a yell of anger from the King or a snarky rebuttal from the Princes. But they just stand there in silence, not loosing eye contact. “Good night,” she quickly adds and runs out of there. I have to tell Hans…

Thank you for getting to the end of Part 1! I’m sorry if this is too long of a read, but that’s why I split it up into two sections. To the anon that suggested a “fluffy with angst” theme, I hope this is to your liking. Part 2 will be out when Hannatines 2017 begins!