#the dynamics interesting because Night only knows about 2 of these situations. (He never pressed Cross or Dust for information.)

[spotaus]

yipppeeee!!!!

Skipping a bit, but yes!! A lot of why Nightmare trusts who he does and makes rash decisions across his rule (and why he can be so confident, and that his paranoia is usually silly stuff) is because of that emotional empathy!! I think he probably had several sessions with Ccino (or even Killer for that matter, though both of them are very convincing liars) where he basically played two truth and a lie to see if he could parse out and recognize how his magic was sensing lies vs. truths! So, by the time the more pressing folks, Cross and Error, come along? Night is very very confident he can tell the truth from lies, and recognizes that Error isn't lying.

Even though it's *technically* not the truth, considering he does have Geno and Fresh, but in his current mindset, those two aren't his family anymore, and Nightmare can recognize the grief and conviction and assumes his family might have died, so he ignores that nagging feeling of something being off because it's not a lie. (And he's like. 100000% blindsided with the Geno reveal- because??? Error has no family, what are you doing? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT"S YOUR BROTHER????)

The bit about the payment really is so chill too, because Error's a very stationary monster (doesn't really feel a rush to go anywhere new, he likes this home!!) and Nightmare has been really reallly good about providing him with everything he could want or need, so it just turns into Error having the sweetest idea EVER. And ofc he recruits the other into it!! I like to think they meet up in the war room while someone (probably Dust, because he's the least helpful for romance atp) hangs with Night and distracts him. And Error and the others start planning and budgeting and brainstorming. And across the table Ccino gives Killer one of those looks like 'Don't you dare let them out of your sight' and Killer gives a look back like 'Duh'. And it's just so lovely of all of them and a good distraction from the chaos that's been happening at that point!

With Night that's 100% the energy I want to go for! He's very much willing to sacrifice himself (no shocker, considering his palm scar + the whole prophecy thing) for those he cares about! And, unfortunately, Error is exactly the demographic he was hoping to avoid influencing, because! Like your said! The Ccino thing! But he does well, and even though it still might not be the best anyone's ever done it (Night is NOT a parent, and Ccino can't raise a whole second kid) but Error comes out of it so so happy and confident and decently adjusted, so who is anyone to judge?

For Dream and Blue I really wasn't sure lol, but I feel like it'd just be the perfect pair of people to really manage it. Night wouldn't want to put that sort of responsibility onto his Knights (he loves and trusts them, but only one of them (Horror) had a semblence of a healthy childhood, minus the famine ofc. And 2/4 were criminals. Dream on the other hand? He and Blue care so deeply about the people, on a 1 to 1 basis, and like u said Dream can still feel emotions, so if there were any places his check-in crews felt were sketchy, he could pop in and figure out if it's just a kid acting up, or if something was really wrong and needed fixed! (Also I can totally picture that Night wouldn't be above asking for this one thing from Dream between his adventuring dreams, considering all he's done. He doesn't think Dream needs to pay any debts to him ofc, siblings help siblings, but it'd be nice to have support. So, Dream helps! And where Dream goes, Blue goes, because they are inseperable :] )

Mhm! I love the ideas of when a character in a place of power is made to put a vulnerability out there in the hopes that they can get to the people before their enemies turn them against them. With Dream's disappearance and his time in the camp, it's a ticking timebomb before people think Nightmare is falling ill, or unfit to rule, or try to stage a coup that will get a lot of people hurt unneededly. He trusts that his Knights can defend him from any physical attacks, so he has to hope and pray that the actions and the voices of the people he had helped so far were enough to carry him through. (And largely, they were!) (And yeah, it helps that Error is like super duper committed to lingering around. Like. He is THERE. In the same way Blue and Dream were so obviously a couple, Night and Error are the ones who show very little pda so everyone is just like 'kiss already!!!' when they've been courting for like. Half the year already lmao.)

And for those who disappear. Well, Night never ordered any killings. However, Killer is fairly trigger happy, and Dust hates flying rumors and loose ends. They have free will :]

Oughhh. This Dust bit is what consumed me earlier- So, I think that for his narrative I'm going to take a route that will follow more closely the idea that Dust's parents were decent people just trying to help him! (Very much going with the His Soul needed more Magic and so the magic was woven into a Spell itself, connecting to the Weather- so thank you for that!) So. Dust was raised outside of Nim's kingdom, probably just in the neighboring one. In an unassuming town, and, for the fun of it, let's say his family is like. The medieval equivalent of middle-class. Surviving, but not exhorbanently thriving. His parents loved him and his brother dearly, but Dust was weird. He was born... let's say early. His soul was missing a LOT of magic that he'd need to live, but somehow, through a lot of careful watchin, he lived. He wasn't sickly, but he was very very frail, and tinier than anyone expected him to be, especially when his parents were both taller. Then came along Papyrus when he was young. With his health being dangerous, his father wanted a back-up heir just in case, and so his brother, Phantom, was born. Perfectly healthy. And the brothers were super super close. (Think, normal canon Paps and Sans, where Dust is 'lazy' thanks to his obnoxiously low magic/hp while Phantom carries him around, jokes with him, treats him just like any other monster.) And when Dust is in his mid-teens, his magic suddenly starts declining rapidly. Like, his growth spurt just. Sapped what little extra magic he had that was keeping him out of a comatose state. And so his parents used emergency funds to get him help from a mage they'd been speaking to. Finding that natural basis of magic (storms) to ground Dust's magic somewhere and let him draw from it.

And it worked, and Dust survived. But anytime he'd be distressed, silently or not, it'd bring a storm to town. A storm which started ruining crops. Started flooding businesses. Sweeping away a few herd animals once. Ad Dust couldn't figure out how to control the latent amount of magic that had been gifted to him in order to make this spell a part of his being. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed that so long as there were natural storms, his emotions and magic would elevate right with it. His last straw was when his storm struck his brother with a lightning bolt, downing more than half his hp and leaving a nasty singe scar along his shoulder and arm bones. He couldn't stand to hurt his family anymore, and looked into the rumors of the neighboring kingdom. A place with no storms, no rains, nothing. That should be impossible, so it was definitely magical, and he swore to his family that he was just going to find work, send money back to them, and stop causing them so much trouble. (None of them wanted him to leave, least of all Phantom)

So he went, and he found that the moment he crossed the land border, that the storm which had been literally following him since he left his home? Yeah, it full-stopped. He still had immense amounts of magic for his little body, sure, but the storm was gone. His plan had worked. So he finds work, accidentally gets recruited by the black market (because they think he's a weak lil baby), proves himself and accidentally starts running a branch of said black market because he's strong, and he has a strong will to live and survive, and send things back home so his family knows he's safe.

And then, when Nightmare takes over and stops doing the rituals? At this point Dust has had time to do the proper training to control his magic, control the spell without the consiquences of the storms being immediate (only mustered through vague dampness in a room before). But when Night lets loose that good weather spell, and good chunk of the storms are because Dust is learning to put all of his practice into use. And he is a LOT of pent up emotion. He's just lucky noone with magic senses as good and Night were around him at the time to pin things on him. And by the time he's caught, he's much much better at consealing it, and it is indeed why he needs the 4 magic dampeners!!!

Anyways yeah. I think there should be a side-story where Dust goes to visit them, or asks Night to invite them to the castle, maybe both but the visit home first, and just. Dust insisting Nightmare come with (not much is important to him, but he fears if he comes back like he is, that if he gets rejected, he might not take it well. Plus he wants to introduce his King (his other little brother) to his family so they know he's been safe for a good chunk of time). And like. He gets there to town, and before they even get to the house, his brother is outside working with like. Sheep or something. And there's the start of a drizzle completely fueled by Dust's fear and happiness at seeing his little brother all grown up, for the first time in almost 15 years. And Phantom looks up, super confused at the light rain because it had been sunny before, and then he looks around and spots Dust and there's this moment of utter confusion, then recognition, then *Dust* approaches and they have this sad but happy reunion. Phantom ushers Dust (and Night, without much question) to the house and his parents are older, but still alive, and life just enters their eyes when they recognize their little boy. Their son. Alive and seemingly well. (Nightmare is glad he got to be there to see Dust with his family, and though he has this moment of worry, acceptance, that Dust might just choose to stay? Dust proceeds to tell his family how important it is that he stay with Nightmare, how much he's grown, how much he's been able to grow. Etc. (Also Phantom is Dust's best-man at the Dustedafterdeath ceremony. Because like. idc how unrealistic, these poly losers are getting married- Also Killer is jealous he doesn't get to be best man.)

Okay sorry I got really off-track there lmao- But!! I love the idea that Dust has this supportive family who he had to close himself away from in order to keep them safe, because they'd do anything to keep him alive and happy, and his self worth was NOT high enough to let them keep going like that.

Oh!! And I like to think Dust's soul has something wrong with it visually. Like. I think Dustedafterdeath all have weird souls. Geno still has his ripped apart lil sliver, I think Reaper's is a pure black (ironically the only part of him that can really be touched without technicalities) and Dust? I like to think that his is maybe his original soul (tiny and white) physically sown into a larger, spell-based mimic of a soul that is a dull sort of gray (also plays into his name, because sometimes he sheds his own dust from the magic having to recycle his cones faster, like humans w/ dead cells). So He's like. Super super not a fan of having it even remotely messed with.

Okay NOW I'm done!!!

You are SO right!!! Fresh wouldn't take the parasite trying to drag him back lying down. He thought his little brother was dead, he grieved for him!! He needs to hug his brother right this second, right now! Shut up parasite!!!

Oh the parasite would be so so confused (I love the idea of the shock from the storm spell-) and it's try to flee immediately because whatever that is is nasty, and owie, and ouchie, and evil! And Fresh is actively trying to fight against it. He needs to get to Error! (Probably a very visual and very outward expression on Fresh's end. Like, The parasite pulls him back and makes him move super unnaturally and he's so fed up that he like. Is just fighting for control and jittering and flinching and trying his best to convey to Error that this is NOT him. Because he hand Geno never told Error the full story! They wanted to protect him until he was older! And. And then he ran away when he was young.

And dude, yeah, Geno would be super cautious ur on point. Definitely thin, thin ice. They're only next to each other in the room because Error asked them both to be there (and also maybe Ccino and Nightmare) because they mean a lot to him. Geno would recognize it, and have to choose his battle very, very wisely. He can't risk excluding Dust, but he can't risk letting Error think that Fresh hates him.

Now that I'm thinking about it. It'd be SUPER funny if Fresh was so persistent in trying to get to Error, and Dust's magic hurt so much to ambiently consume? That the young spirit learns for the first time how to shut off its ambient magic consumption. And when it does it's like a switch is flicked and Fresh just like faceplants for a second, letting the weirdness of the lack of magic consumption process, before he ignores it and rushes to Error. (It's a problem for him to figur out later, to explain later, but for now it's gone and that means he can be near his brother again! The paraite figured it out like 5 years too late, but it happened-) And Fresh just bowls him over into a bear hug (and Error braces himself for it so it's less painful and explosive than usual, but even as he does start to feel it, he refuses to let go of Fresh, so it's a mutual hug).

Dust really did pull them with his magic swag <3 (especially if I keep this last bit in, because then he Supports Error, made Geno rethink his harmful habits, and speedran a learning curve that would've taken the parasite a century in the first 5 minutes of meeting Fresh-)

Waughhhhh Ccino looking out for Error!!!! This works so well too because. Well. Everyone in the castle was forced to grow up too soon. Night for.. obvious reasons. Ccino for... also obvious reasons. Killer being the true orphan of the group (gonna expand on this in a post later-). Horror having to work sooner in youth to help provide food. Dust and his weird magic issues. Cross being a literal child soldier. None of them got to be kids, and most of them hardly think about it! Nightmare and the others, though not intentionally, are treating Error like an adult already, because it's all they know. And here's Error, a kid, and Ccino takes the chance to make sure Error knows that he can be a kid. he can be silly, and pursue his interests, and. Ohhhh. Like you said he's not the mage *yet*. He has years before any sembelance of responsibility falls on his shoulders. he has plenty of time. And this time Error seems relatively well adjusted, with few pressures, and now a decent, multiple-person support system. He can focus on being a positive force in Error's life, andd still enjoy himself! (Almost like letting his own inner lil kid out! To listen to Error and maybe even learn from him? Invested in the idea that Ccino learns to crochet or smth from Error. A nice hobby for him! (I could see him being the king of making lil stuffed animals. Makes a Cat for Killer. Horse for Dust. Leaves them on their beds with a nice lil note like "Hi, Just Ccino, it's not a bomb :]".)) And yeag about Ccino just really, really making sure Error knows he's wanted, but also that he can leave if he changes his mind.

Okay I'm done but!!! Ough Ancha as always ur points were so so tasty!!!!

New Age AU (Error's Wacky Wild Plan)

Hi guys. So. Crazy Story. The crisis that stopped me from working on my banner art actually catapulted me into writing this drabble finally! (Also the wonderful @ancha-aus was also a life-saver and helped me hammer out a few plot points for this installment <3)

Currently my only context for this drabble is that Error is tiny, and ran away from home because Geno moved to Reaper's kingdom to make money to send back home, and Fresh spent too long away on his trip. Error was expelled from his magic academy and came home to an empty house, so he left! Now he's been on the road for about a month? Nightmare has been ruling for about 6-ish years now, almost 7.

(Hello @mutzelputz and @papiliovolens hi guys!!!)

     The town was bustling. 

   Error had been through a lot of towns since he’d left. Big ones, small ones, ones he was convinced weren’t even towns at all, just a few barns in a general closeness to one another who decided they needed to call themselves something besides the outskirts. Those people had been particularly hostile to his passing through.

   And, lately, they’d been really weird. People staring at him when he’d walk on the streets, or pass by shops. When they saw he had money from a different kingdom (he didn’t even realize he’d left his own, but he figured it meant he was on the right path) they’d squeeze their faces like they bit a lemon and hastily take his coin. Like it was cursed, or something. They were lucky it wasn’t cursed, honestly. He could probably figure out how to do that.

    This town, though, was filled so full with people that he imagined they couldn’t look at him weird if they wanted to. 

   People were riding horses, chatting in the streets, all sorts of stalls and merchants were peddling goods, and he was almost positive he could hear music lifting down the street over the general drone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d run into a place so busy. He’d always been told to stick to the side, out of the way, out of danger. 

   He didn’t have to listen to that anymore. Though, he did skirt the crowds. The mass of people seemed all too willing to bump shoulders or elbows with each other in the early morning sun, and the last thing he wanted was to have his magic act up in a crowd. He’d done well so far. 

   Every booth, every merchant, every passerby seemed jubilant, ebbing and flowing. It was like some sort of party. 

   That was, until, Error spotted it.

   A big building, something that Error recognized only vaguely. 

   It was an amphitheatre. 

   Geno had taken him to see one once. Or, at least, the ruin of one. It hadn’t been too far from their home, and it was pretty abandoned and lonely. Plants had crawled up its walls, stones had fallen off in chunks, animals seemed to have deemed its high windows a perfect spot to build nests. It had been breathtaking, and ancient. 

   This one? Seemed perfectly in-use. 

   The walls were all in-tact, stones, an easy to look at grey, smooth and covered in little intricate carvings. Spells, he had to imagine, in some language he didn’t know. Curtains hung over the huge arched entrances, and heavy gates seemed to be lifted, the spikes at the base loomed over the heads of every passerby. 

   He couldn’t help but marvel. Was this a restoration, or maybe it was new. Some sort of imitation. Regardless, he found that his feet carried him to one of the entrances, which stood largely empty aside from some folks who looked strikingly like guards.

   Two of them stood, long spears in-hand. They both stood stock still as Error approached, and didn’t move a muscle as he passed them. They were strange, definitely different. Not at all the town guard he was familiar with. 

   The inside of the theatre was even more impressive. Rows and rows of stands seemed to line up either side. Huge tapestry hung from the high arches past those seats, and down the runways of the bleachers, all a bright teal and dark navy blue. They seemed fancy, and much newer than the curtains which had hung in the entrance. 

   Beyond the walkway where he stood, was a set of stairs which led down a level or so, before it leveled out into an open space. Sandy, and very flat. It seemed like there were people there, too. A much smaller crowd, but still a crowd nonetheless. 

   Error was almost amazed he’d not been stopped by someone yet. Whatever was going on seemed important, and so far in his experience, people did not like him sticking his nose into important business. 

   With that in mind, he decided he’d stick to the entryway for now. He leaned his bag up against the wall and watched from a position where the sun still shadowed his form. He was often grateful for his miscolored bones. It made hiding in the dark a whole lot easier. 

   It took a bit for him to really process what he was watching in the morning light. 

   There were four people sat on a sort of raised box toward the front of a stage. A huge stage, raised up off the sand with wood slats. They had a long-table before them, and quills and ink jars in-hand. Well, three were sitting. One was standing. But the point is, they were all watching the stage very attentively. 

   On-stage there was… basically nothing. Only a simple backdrop Error had to imagine was there at all times, because it looked like it was coated in sand, even from the distance where he stood.

   A person would enter the stage, the people sat on the box would speak to them, and then there was a flare of magic. Another. Another. And then they were dismissed. 

   It wasn’t until he really bothered to think about what magic was being cast that he realized those were extremely simple spells being used. Levitate, Create Water, Mimicry. Or Flame, Gust, Light. All just three easy spells, and then they were off-stage. That was taught magic. It gave him memories of his entrance exam to his school. He’d been way overqualified to get in, Geno taught him after all…

   But, no, this didn’t feel the same. There were plenty of people who seemed to stumble at spells they didn’t recognize, or who couldn’t muster a simple breeze. Then others who were very old and obviously skilled. Obviously they found the three spells to be child’s play. Like Error would. This was no entrance exam, so what-

   “Hey, pipsqueak, what are you doing there in the dark?” A voice startled him, and it took all of his willpower to avoid jumping away from its origin. 

   Error twisted rapidly, just in time to avoid the thrust of an elbow in his direction. 

   There was a monster there. Three, actually. Two lizards, both bright green and tropical, and one who looked more like a dragon. The green one closer to him must have spoken, because he laughed at Error’s flinch. 

   “Why are you bothering me?” Error shot back haughtily. 

   The lizard seemed to grin at the response.  

   “Oh, so we’ve got a feisty little small fry here? Thinks he’s scoping out the competition?” The dragonish one hissed, voice deep. 

   The other green one tittered a giggle, “So cute! I can’t believe the King really decided to let just anyone try out for Royal Mage.” 

   Oh…

   The lizard before him seemed to take this silence as a weakness, and reached out quicker than Error could react. A flick to the middle of his forehead. 

   Error winced and pulled away, back and into the arena. He grit his teeth and clutched his skull, where at the same moment the lizard jumped back and shook their hand in the air a bit. His magic had reacted poorly again, and while it was better than it used to be, it still stung like 5 wasps touching down and stinging the same point all at once. 

   “Little freak.” Was all the monster hissed, before he fled. His two friends moving on behind him in confusion. Approaching the line to the stage. 

   Error stood there in the sun for a moment, rubbing at his forehead until the pain was more of a numb static. 

   If anything, he appreciated the little run-in with those wanna-bes. Now he knew exactly what this was, and why it had felt so familiar to him. 

   The Mage Trials. 

   Geno had to go through them, and he’s been very thorough about his every single detail while doing it. Even though he was the best mage Error had ever known, he’d still stressed and wrote page after page of plans and spells and had placed them into a folder that felt thicker than an encyclopedia. Geno had always been the only one of them who bothered studying. Fresh couldn’t go to school anymore, and Error… Well, Error didn’t need to. 

   Thinking about it, Geno had been very quiet about it, but Error had looked into his folder a few times. Just out of curiosity. It’d been split into three rounds, something Geno had said was standardized. The first was a test of someone’s basic magic skills, the second were more complex spells which the mage has practice in, and the third, the one that had given Geno the most grief, was the personal spell round. In the last one, there were no restrictions to what someone could do, so long as they had done the work themselves, and that it mostly used magic. 

   If he was right, and he usually was, then this was the first round. Eliminating those with nothing but a hope and a prayer in their pocket before they got embarrassed before the one looking for the Mage in the first place. In this case, whoever this kingdom’s king even was. 

   In just a few moments, Error had decided. 

   This was how he’d prove himself. 

   The line was already starting to get longer, and he didn’t want to be here until nightfall in a queue. He dusted off his scarf, his shoes, his bag, and set off into the bright sun to secure his place in this contest. No prep. No warning. Just with his raw skill and what he’d learned so far. Nothing could possibly go wrong. 

.

   Finally. 

   Error felt like it had been hours in the warm sun before he was finally up next. 

   He’d been watching, of course. Watching as the people before him were passed or failed. It was just as he’d expected, and he couldn’t help but be a bit giddy as the two green lizard who’d bothered him earlier both failed. Though their dragonish friend had passed, it was still enough of a victory for him.

   Along with that, he noticed that the three people sat were all in robes of nobles. Something the wealthy and lofty would think to wear in a blazing hot arena all day. The one standing, though, was wearing all black. A hood was over his head, but Error thought he might be some sort of cat-monster. Very stone faced, very still. The only time Error had seen him move was seemingly to veto whatever choice the other three were making. He thought it was interesting. 

   That didn’t matter, though. 

   Based on what he’d seen, these people wouldn’t have any qualms with his magic. He was much better than half the people who’d already been passed, and knew he could keep him calm up on the stage. It’d be just like his entrance exam. 

   He watched as the monster who’d gone before him, a skeleton who was twice his height and twice as animal-ish, bowed gratefully to the people on the boxes, the evaluators, and exited. She’d passed fairly easily, Error thought. Though, her focus seemed elsewhere based on how shaky the hold on her last flame had been. 

   “Next!” 

   The call was shrill, and Error had heard it over a hundred times already today, but this time it bounced in his ears as he lifted himself up the steps and strode onstage. 

   If he’d thought about it, he would’ve tried to find a place to stache his bag, but it was too late for that, and frankly he didn’t trust it not to get stolen once it was out of his sight. Not with how busy the city seemed. 

   When he was stood in the center of the stage, he looked out across the way to the evaluators. They seemed closer up here than they did when he was on the ground. Interesting. 

   “First spell,” The person on the far left called, though Error could tell now that it was a voice projection spell. So they didn’t strain their vocal chords, “ Levitate.”

   That was simple. One of the first spells he’d been taught as a kid. 

   His eyes skimmed briefly, there had been a few props on stage that he only noticed once he was closer that were meant to be used with this sort of spell, but Error wasn’t for that. Instead, he muttered the words under his breath, outstretched a hand, and felt his magic reach out around him. Beyond the stage. 

   There… There was a barrier of some sorts, pushing back against his magic, between himself and the evaluators. He furrowed his brow and urged his magic forward. He didn’t have to break through it. He just. Had to- His magic felt like it was looping and wriggling like a worm through the dirt, but when it broke through on the other end, it felt so much more clear. He could feel a potent magic there, something raw and wet, like the air before a storm. 

   That didn’t matter, though. None of it did, because he was on a mission. His magic finally found its target, the stacks of ink bottles which the middle evaluator had just before their parchment. The magic latched on, and Error finally allowed himself a grin as he tugged his hand upwards. They floated calmly into the air, three of them, and did a quick spinning motion, before settling back down just where he’d found them.

   He didn’t catch the looks on the threes faces, but he had to imagine they were priceless. He was more focused on letting the spell dissipate and preparing for the next. 

   It took a moment, before, “Second Spell,” They said, “Create Water.” 

   Another easy one. 

   Error held his hand out again, though this time his palm faced the sky rather than the ground. At the mutter of his words, he could feel the water manifesting. Tiny droplets leaking from his fingers and into the air above his open palm, where he let it gather into a nice, easy sphere. 

   It hovered, and for this one he could see the nods from the three evaluators. The fourth, the cat monster, didn’t move an inch. A good sign. 

   Error, after a breath, moved the orb of water and simply set it on the stage floor. If he had to release it, he didn’t exactly want to get his clothes wet. That orb tended to shoot outwards when he released it, and the water would go everywhere. 

   “Third spell,” They must’ve been contented with his simply setting down the water, for they continued, “Flame.”

   Ah, one of his favorites. He was never very good at it, of course, but it was certainly very fun. If nothing else it’d be a taste of his raw power.

   He rolled up his hanging sleeves, quickly using strands of string to wrap them in place, before he picked back up the water orb in one hand. With the other, he faced his palm toward the side of it, and spoke the words for the flame spell. 

   The heat gathered in his wrist, and all at once shot out of his palm, like a cannon blast. The heat was intense, and Error laughed quietly to himself in pure elation as the fire did exactly what he was hoping. All at once, his glasses fogged, and a burst of steam blew past his face, off to the exiting side of the stage. He’d evaporated his orb, no longer needing to risk someone seeing him fumble with it and soak himself. 

   He let the fire die after a few second, and quickly grabbed the hem of his scarf to wipe down his glasses from the fog left behind on their surface. 

   The moment the red rims were back on the bridge of his nose, the voice spoke up again. 

   “Name?”

   Error cleared his throat, before calling back his name in response. Just the first one, the last one didn’t matter anymore. 

   There was another few breaths of quiet, before, 

   “Age?”

   Error hadn’t heard them ask anyone else for their age, but he figured they’d noticed. How strong and talented he was at such a young age. 

  He puffed up his chest when he announced, “Twelve!” to the arena. 

   There were a few muffled murmurs from the line, but Error was too busy grinning across the way at the evaluators as they seemed to talk amongst themselves. 

   He was ready to hear the word that would mark him to continue. The next part was tomorrow, after this round was concluded and the king arrived. He’d heard about it in the line while he was waiting. 

   One of the evaluators lifted their gaze back to him. Opened their mouth.

   “Disqualified.”

   That.

   Huh?

   Error must’ve visibly glitched at the response, because one of the evaluators seemed to flinch. Ever so slightly. 

   “How come?!” Error called back, reservations immediately fleeing his mind.

   How could they disqualify him? He hadn’t heard them do that to literally anyone else so far today. 

   The evaluator on the far right spoke up, “Too young. Now please move off the-”

   Error might’ve let his mouth speak before his mind, if he hadn’t seen the way the mysterious cat monster seemed to slink forward. A simple tap to the evaluator’s side and they stopped mid-sentence, attention drawing to the person. 

   He waited with balled fists. Hoping, against it all, that this person was using his mighty veto powers to get him his passing review. 

   “The Knight wishes to speak to you further.” They said, when the person, the Knight, took a step back. “Exit the stage.” 

   Mm. 

   This was his chance. This was his moment. He was being allowed to move on, he was sure of it. It had to be. 

   He practically scrambled off the stage and down the steps, and found that the Knight had closed the distance very quickly. He gestured silently for Error to follow him off to the side of the arena, seemingly outside of the voice spell’s range, as the noise of magic and calling for the next viewer seemed all muffled and contained. 

   Something Error noticed about the guy, now that he was right beside him walking along, was also that he wasn’t a cat monster. No, he had some sort of mask shaped like a cat. Black spots painted on black fur, with piercing white eyelights hidden in the darkness cast by his black hood. A cloth mask covered the lower half of his face, so Error would’ve had no idea what kind of monster he was, if he hadn’t left his hands uncovered. They were grey and grimy, but they were most certainly bones. 

   The other thing he noticed, was the magic. That damp, airy magic was no-doubt from this guy. It practically enveloped the both of them until they were stood in the shade of the wall separating bleachers from arena floor. 

   “You said you’re twelve?” He finally asked, shifting on his feet to look at Error. 

   The last thing he noticed, which only happened once he was able to look past the aura, was that. Well. He was a bit taller than this guy. Not by much, but there was certainly something stark about having to look a bit downwards to meet his eyelights. 

   “Yes, I am.” He claimed proudly, still convinced this was to be his ride to the top.

   The knight seemed to skim him with his eyes. Surely taking in Error’s clothes, his bag, his glasses, the weird bones. Though, it didn’t feel pervasive. 

   “Impressively strong for a kid,” He praised loosely, “And probably talented in spells if the nerds were any indication.” 

   His voice was quiet and raspy, but Error had no problem listening to it. This strong and very cool guy who was called a ‘knight�� was praising him. This was much better than getting yelled at by his professors. Much. 

   “Does that mean I passed?” He asked impatiently. 

   He needed this. He needed this. 

   The guy’s eyelights lingered on his face a bit, and it was then that Error finally noticed how virtually unreadable this guy was. Impossibly quiet, posture unmoving, all facial features shrouded in shadow and covered by masks?

   “I’m not sure what kingdom you’re from, but you’ve got to understand that the folks up there didn’t say no because you’re bad. They said no because the king made a new decree. “No soul under the age of 16 shall be put to work under the crown.” They’ve gotta take it seriously, just like everyone else has to follow the new rules about their own shops and businesses.” He said evenly, eyelights never leaving Error’s face. “You’re a couple years too early is all.” 

   It felt like he’d been shoved into a ditch, and he could already feel his right hand starting to tremble with the beginnings of a glitch. He was furious! How could they possibly say no to him because of some stupid rule about his age? 

   “No!” He exclaimed, trying to bite back the distortion on his voice, “I’m not going to just walk away. If I could just move on to the next round, they’d see I’m different! I’m not some weak little baby!” 

   He clenched his fists, driving his jittering one forcefully into his pocket. 

   The knight didn’t even flinch at his declaration. 

   “They’ve already seen that.” He said easily. “Listen to me. Error, right?” 

   Error hesitantly nodded. 

   “Error, ‘m sure that if my Lord saw you in action, he too would agree that you are very strong and resourceful.” The knight said, and Error hated that it sounded earnest. “But, he set that law into place for very good reason. If by any means those folks back there were to let you through, to pass you, and you made it before the king next round? They’d have committed treason, and I’d have their souls on the end of my bone in three seconds flat.” 

   His voice was hard and serious, and Error held strong as a loud crack echoed out beside the knight. A bone raised from the ground, sharp and jagged on the end, absolutely radiating magic. 

   “Do you really want their blood on your conscience, just so that you get sent away by the King anyways?” The knight offered. 

   Error hunched his shoulders a bit, and he felt his static worsen as he let his eyes linger on the bone. Yes. He muttered inside his head. He wanted to scream it at the man before him. Tell him that this was his one golden chance to prove himself. 

   But to who? He would ask, and Error wouldn’t be able to say it. It’d be a wasted sentiment and wasted time and wasted lives just for his temper tantrum. 

   “...No.” He bit out meekly. 

   He stood there, feeling a familiar shame creep up his spine. The knight made no move to leave, though he did let his bone disappear. The ground looked untouched from where it had split out of. Just more sand. Sand that was getting into Error’s bones. That he’d have to clean out later. Swinging in his hammock, lonely and moping. 

   “Heh,” The chuckle was almost inaudible, and Error was almost ready to let his distress turn back into rage, but, “Better kid than I was.” The Knight mused into the open air.

   He seemed to shift his stance again, and Error took a half step back. 

   “You’ve got your life ahead of you, kid. Don’t let this keep you down. Take the road less traveled by or whatever.” He said then, waving a hand loosely before him. 

   Error stared at him, trying to even his breath, before he had an idea. 

   “The other two rounds will be here, right?” He asked, voice still harshly stuttering and screeching. The Knight seemed unbothered.

   “Yeah. Planning on sticking around to watch?” The knight questioned, though it felt more like a warning. 

   Error nodded in agreement without hesitation. “If these geezers can get the job, I need to see what kind of tricks they have up their sleeves.” He agreed. 

   That earned another little chuckle, before the knight looked back to the stage. 

   Up in the center was a new mage, a human who seemed to be making a pretty wild wind that was whipping the sand around, bothering the people in line behind him. Error heard the knight make a scoffing noise, before turning back towards the stage.

   “Go hang around somewhere else for a while, why don’t you? I have to go make sure those nerds don’t pass that guy.” 

   Error didn’t even get to say a farewell before the Knight was off. 

   It seemed like every stride he teleported a bit further, building speed until he stopped cleanly up on the pedestal. Just in time for the sandstorm to die down. 

   Error didn’t want to walk away from this, he didn’t, but staying would only waste his time. It only took a few more seconds, to watch the knight nudge the evaluator and hear the muffled call of ‘fail’ ring out across the arena before he was turning tail and moving out of the sandy paradise, back into the bustle of the living city. 

.

.

.

   It was impossible to miss it. The sounds of celebration as the monarch entered the town. 

   Error could see the royal carriage from his perch, an old temple tower that had at some point lost its bell. It seemed untouched, birds nests and cobwebs, so he’d set up a hammock and a little makeshift shelter inside using his strings just before night fell. 

   He’d snatched some food from the town as dusk was setting in, and he’d been comfortably whittling away the dark hours, working hard on his plan. 

   With the King officially in town, that meant the second round would be starting up shortly, taking the numbers of who would be in the third round down by hundreds. He hoped the king was stingy about it. He hoped that dragonish monster would stumble on his spell and turn someone into a frog. 

   The thought humored him, and he cackled quietly to himself from his makeshift room. 

   The sun was high again, and he was only a part of the way through. His spells required a lot of his magic to be woven into them, and while it was much much faster than what he’d heard was the usual, it was still difficult to make. 

   Weaving the blue strings from his sockets, to his fingers, around his fingertips, and into the shapes he needed. It was monotonous, and boring by all accounts, but with every strand there was a new flow of power. A new pump of adrenaline into Error’s soul as he recognized his creation becoming more potent. Intent, intent, intent, every loop and knot was filled to the brim with it. His frustration sat at the core. Much more volatile and destructive than his usual intent, but it would serve him well if he wanted this plan to go well. Around it was his determination. The strings woven in with a sense of stubbornness which refused to let go, like a snake swallowing its prey whole. This would compress the first layer into a proper state. Let it coil and coil and coil until it burst. It’d be big, and loud, and send out that message he so desperately needed to be heard by the king. 

   Skipping the second round would probably hurt him in the long run, but… That knight had said he’d have to kill those people if he showed his face in round two. So, he’d just appear in round three instead, and make up for missing the second one. A final act, of sorts. 

   He’d have to be at this all day to make the time crunch. The orb was hardly as big as his palm, not nearly big enough. Though, he had wasted time making the shelter and finding food. He’d just have to skip a couple meals to make up for it. He didn’t really need to eat that much anyways, he’d known that for years. He just tried to make an effort when he smelled something tasty. 

   He knew he could manage. 

   It was late in the night when Error finally started on the outer layers. Those which would be filled with his patience, so that the potent insides would not be sensed as he moved with it among the many magic users. 

   The town had begun to line the streets with torches and party as the stars arrived. No doubt celebrating those who would be at the third and final round tomorrow. The ones who would be competing to become the new Royal Mage. 

   To Error? Every single moment down there was dedicated to him. They just didn’t know it yet. 

.

.

.

   The morning came, and Error only had a few more layers. 

   By the time the sun was almost in the center of the sky above, he had finished it, and carefully tucked it into his backpack. He unraveled the strings and carefully wrapped them, shaping them, changing them into a thin net with long ends. This was shoved into his jacket sleeve, the ends clutched tight in his hand. 

   It took him hardly any time at all to get to the arena, and he was early. 

   Good.

   He settled himself up in the stands, as close to the stage as he could get. Many people seemed to be staying outside the arena, sticking to the streets, but there was still enough of a crowd in the bleachers that Error had to be careful as he worked his way along the edges. He needed to be closer. Closer…

   There. 

   He stood at the railing behind the stage. 

   From here, he could see the line to the left, and he could see the people who had finished lingering on the other side. None of them spoke to each other, only standing about, icily, waiting for the rest to finish so they’d know which of them was chosen, and who was not. Error had to imagine that these folks were just as lame and boring as the seniors from his old academy. No fun at all. 

   He waited, so, so patiently, for the next few people. The last few. 

   Though he couldn’t see the spells themselves, he could certainly feel the pressure coming off of them. The control that they’d need to balance it. How much it might’ve drained their energy to do it just once. He was attuned to that sort of thing, he had to be. 

   His assessment was that all of these last few folks weren’t bad, but they were no match for Error’s raw talent. 

   Each spell cast seemed to tick away at Error’s patience, until it finally happened. The last mage went on-stage. It seemed there had been 15 of them. 

   He’d have to make 16, then. 

   It felt like a blur as he jumped the rails and let his strings carry him across the open space, much to the shock of the few who had been watching the competitors from around him. The blue lines snatched at the wooden supports of the stage, and he swung right over top, landing a bit messily in the center of the stage.

   He didn’t have time to look at everything. All he knew was the crowd was much larger than last time, that there was a shout of ‘Hey!’’ from somewhere to his left, and that the box across from the stage now held only three people. Monsters. One Error recognized, the knight in shadows who’d spoken to him. The other two he didn’t know, but he had to assume the one in the middle, tall and imposing, and dark, with an eyelight the same colors as the tapestries, was the King he was looking to impress. That was all he needed to know. 

   “M’lord, my name is Error!” He called out across the sand, and in one motion he shrugged the bag off his shoulders and used his strings to tug the orb out of its canvas body. “I want to prove that I’m more capable than any of the adults who just went before me! I could be your mage!” He would be the mage. 

   The orb sat cradled in Error’s hand for only the briefest moment, before it was inside the little net he’d made. He swung it in circles. Again. Again. Again. 

   He had to be fast. He had to do this quick.

   Error spent one last moment, extending his reach through his strings, muttering words and igniting an intangible spark. 

   For a brief moment, he watched as the King seemed to ease forward. A hand now raised, seemingly calling off his knights, who had been almost in motion. 

   He released the orb directly upwards, momentum carrying it up. 

   Up.

   Up.

   Into the blue sky. Practically into the sun. 

   Error watched it rise above him. 

   Only. 

   “Shit.” 

   His calculations must’ve been off. He must’ve added a layer too many, or maybe he released it a swing too soon. But he could tell that it wouldn’t clear the top of the arena. 

   Maybe if he had a few more seconds he could’ve used strings to boost it. He could’ve sent a magic gust to lift it further. 

   Not the case.

   He watched as the orb detonated, just like it was supposed to. 

   The wave moved horizontally through the air, and swept across the air above the arena so quickly that it sucked the sand from the top layer and threw it against the tall walls. Error’s footing slipped, and he stumbled to his knees on the stage as the wind whipped and tugged the heavy curtains into the air current as well. 

   It was an almost invisible force, Error had to imagine anyone without a solid grasp of magic would entirely miss it as it spread out. 

  He winced as it finally reached the edges of the arena, where he had just barely managed to fall short of clearing. 

   As the magic passed over the stone and mortar, he saw as it fell. Not in chunks, but crumbled like dust into fine particles. The upper half of every arch at the top of the grand amphitheatre, turned pitch black, then wasted away. 

   He hadn’t meant for it to come in contact with anything. It wasn’t supposed to do anything but harmlessly wave over everyone’s heads. As a show of his strength. That was all.

   Error could only think back to when this had happened before. When he’d accidentally exploded Geno’s favorite mug while metering the strength of his strings. When he’d broken the wheel of a carriage passing through the woods with a wayward slingshot blast. When he’d broken all ten of the large windows in the lecture hall of the academy when he failed to complete a spell the way it was written. When he’d done it too well.

   As he rose to his feet, he half expected the nagging voice of his older brother to be there, chastising him for not being more careful, before taking him home and making him dinner. 

   It wasn’t that, though. 

   He watched out across the sand. The king had his head tilted only slightly, looking up at Error’s lofty mistake. At the clean cut where stone now met unbothered air. His knight, the one in all black, was leaned ever so slightly towards him. They must’ve been speaking. Or, at least, the knight was. 

   About Error, he had no doubt. 

   He stayed in place, watching, swaying a bit with the residual force of his own spell lingering in his fingertips. Every instinct which told him to run and to hide were smothered and stamped out by the ligering fact that he had nowhere to go. Without his brothers, there was no one to help him. He knew it. 

   Even in front of this crowd. These mages. This King and his knights. He couldn’t bring himself to move offstage. Some part of him, deep down, childishly wanted the King to announce that he was impressed. To parade him offstage and let him experience what Geno had. Let him know why Geno left. 

   The King’s single eyelight swam back over to look at Error in the silence. 

   Error felt like the world had stopped. 

   It hadn’t.

   There was a clattering of armor and rustling of fabric, suddenly loud in his ears, and he had no time to react as everything came rushing in all at once. 

   Hands. Heavy, gloved hands. Two sets, two hands each wrapped one of his upper arms, and immediately lifted him off the ground. Into the air. 

   Pain flooded into his bones from his soul, like twin lightning strikes, trying to singe the bone and the magic in its core. The pressure wasn’t much, his mind knew that, but his body usually didn’t listen to him. He tried desperately to hold it in. The rampant part of his magic that had been hurting him since he could remember. That made it hard to touch anyone. To shake hands. To hug his brothers. 

   “Let go!” He pleaded, though he wasn’t sure if his voice made any sense. Fresh always told him they couldn’t tell what he was saying when his voice got too bad.

   More pain. He kicked his legs at the open air, and tried to muster control over his strings, just for a moment, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t focus. 

   And all at once it stopped. 

   Error’s feet were on the ground again, though that promptly became his knees again as he swayed and wavered in the sudden aftermath of his active magic dying down. Receding back into his soul. Because it didn’t need to ‘protect’ him anymore.

   He spotted then, as his vision returned to something aside from the gloves or the sky, that the King was no longer in his throne. In fact, there was a heavy, encompassing, magical weight behind him now. Somewhere very, very close-by.

   He took a deep breath, grounding himself. 

   “We are taking a recess.” Announced a booming voice. Very nearby. It was deep, and felt almost the same as the projection spell from two days prior. Then, more quietly, “You will leave the boy to me. Go ensure no one was injured, then manage the crowd. I’ll make my choice tomorrow at sunrise.” 

   The second bit felt quieter, an edge to the tone that Error didn’t quite like. Considering he must be the boy in question. 

   It was a moment, a few muddled ‘Yes, my king’ s, before Error found a pair of boots stepping before him. His head swam as he looked upwards. 

   The King, he figured that had to be him, was dark. Very dark. Like a living, dripping, shadow. Magic seemed to be all he was made of, an aura radiating from him. Dripping off his back into long slimy worms, twitching as they sat near the ground. He wore a fancy cape, too. One with huge gold clasps on his shoulders, one was shaped like the moon. 

   Error looked to his face last. In hindsight, something that could’ve been very, very bad. He was met with a dripping face. Skeletal. The place where his right socket should’ve sat was covered in that dark substance. The other hollow, with that bright cyan orb staring right back at him. 

   “Can you stand?” His voice came easily, and Error braced himself. 

   Could he?

   He had to, he didn’t want to be touched again. 

   Error took another breath, and managed to rise silently to his feet. 

   “Good,” the King said once he was standing, “Follow me.”

   It was an order he didn’t dare refuse. 

.

.

.

   Error found himself in an odd position. 

   He’d been given time to sit and recover from his magic’s outlash, and now he was sat in a room beneath the bleachers of the arena alongside the King and that knight he’d met before. The other one was guarding the door, he thought. 

   It’d been silent for a while, and it was almost expected when the silence was finally broken. 

   “You said your name is Error, correct?” The King asked, and Error gave a nod of yes. He forced himself to meet the King’s gaze.

   “Dust says that you’re only 12, and our people disqualified you in the first round. Is that right?” 

   Error nodded again. 

   “And Dust even explained to you why you were disqualified?” 

   Another nod. It seemed he’d at least made an impression on the knight. Dust. 

   The King tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, eyelight holding Error’s tightly. 

   “Then, I’ll ask, what brought you to think this was a good choice? To try and become Royal Mage above any cost it might bring?” The king asked, and Error was surprised to find it was a shockingly gentle tone. “Your home, your family, your life. You are so young, why put it all on the line like this?” 

   Oh. 

   It was almost funny. Was this whole thing because the king was some sort of charitycase? So disillusioned by his perfect life that he couldn’t even think of the hardships any random kid could go through? He almost grinned at that, barely keeping his mouth from twitching in a mix of frustration and humor.

   “I wanted to prove myself,” He muttered, “And besides, becoming the Royal Mage would be great.” 

   He waited, waited for the King to inhale, to say something, before, 

   “I’m an orphan.” He spat, finally. “Family abandoned me, house is left behind, expelled from school. I don’t want to keep wandering.” 

   It was basically the truth. This was his big break. His one last chance before he became a hated little vagabond. Maybe even a criminal. Maybe he’d have to go on the run for the rest of his life, live as a nomad. Join a caravan. Those people got stopped a lot though, kingdoms didn’t like them. He’d probably explode some city’s bakery by mistake and get put in jail for-

   “Wait!” Error suddenly exclaimed, breaking free of his thoughts, “Am I in trouble? Am I going to jail??” He asked then. 

   His worries slammed to a grinding halt and he stared wide-eyed at the two before him. Geno had always told him not to go making his big stuff near town, because if the guard caught him he wouldn’t be able to bail him out. He’d end up in jail. Of course, it’d never happened back then because he was always fast enough. Always smart enough to get out of dodge when he broke something or made poor decisions. Here? Here he hadn’t run when he had the chance. 

   The King stared at him, his one eyelight nearly mirroring Error’s in surprise at the question. 

   “I mean,” he started, “You’re young. If I wont let you work for me, I wouldn’t dare put you in prison either.” The King stated, “Though, you did do quite a bit of damage to the theatre.” 

   Error watched him break eye contact finally and look over his shoulder to the Knight stood there. He’d been silently watching Error too. 

   When he had no insight, The king seemed to heave a sigh, and the shadowy extra limbs which draped around him twitched. 

   “You’re sure you have no family? No home?” the King asked him again, and Error nodded.

   The king muttered something under his breath, and shot the Knight another look. The knight shrugged. 

   “I… Will not employ you. Though, I do see talent in you, Error.” the King said carefully, a bit slower in his words than he had been up until now. Almost… unsure. “I will, however, extend to you the title so that you may conduct…” He waved a hand before himself, as though searching for a word, “ You may conduct independent research. If you accept, of course.”

   “You would be free to resend your acceptance at any moment, no strings attached, and may take any work you complete along with you, and any pay you receive would be given to you after your 16th birthday, if you stay that long.” He added, “I’ll have to rewrite the contract, but-”

   “I accept!” 

   Error couldn’t help himself. He was so excited he could puke. The last thing he’d expected was to pull this off. This shitshow of a scheme actually got him the job? He could scream. He could jump up and down for joy. He didn’t, he sat eagerly and tense in his seat instead, but he could’ve. 

   The King seemed to hesitate, for a few breaths, before relaxing. He stood, and offered a hand out slowly to Error. 

   Error stood too, grinning. He could manage this one. He could do it. 

   It was brief, but he grasped the King’s hand and shook it firmly.

   “Dust, will you help Error locate his belongings, and escort him to wherever he is staying tonight? I’ll send Cross to swap with you a bit later. We’ll reconvene in the morning just before sunrise.” 

[your-ace-cousin-clover]

Different, But Same

[Part 1 of my Tomgreg Analysis Series]

TL;DR - Shiv and Greg tend to mirror each other a long in the sequence of the story especially in regards to Tom. This is interesting as Shiv is Tom's romantic partner which the same relationship is echoed very strongly with Tom and Greg.

One of my most interesting observations in regards to the whole Tom/Shiv and Tom/Greg situation is how Greg and Shiv's narrative arc seem similar in regards to their relationship with Tom. However, because of certain reasons, the relationship that Tom has with Greg is more stronger despite the same narrative followed for Shiv as well.

Also disclaimer : THIS IS TINHATTERY! THIS IS ME THEORISING! YOU CAN ALWAYS DISAGREE / AGREE WITH ME.

I'm just having some fun here.

1. Initial Circumstances of meeting Tom

In S01E01, we see the circumstances in which Tom and Greg meet each other for the first time. Yes, with the volatile reaction that Tom has of "would you kiss me if I asked you? if I told you to?" (That is a whole another topic that I'll later delve into about shame and queerness in Succession) However, but the time Greg dejectedly stands at the door Logan's hospital cabin with uncertainty about his job at Waystar, S01E02, Tom makes an important offer to Greg. He offers to "look after" Greg in his time of need and help him.

Interestingly, later in the series, in an offhand comment, Shiv mentions how she herself was not in a good state of mind or in a stable position of life when she met Tom. [I don't recall the exact episode where this conversation takes place - but I'm pretty sure this happens]

Regardless, in different times of the show, Shiv depends on Tom to help her through stressful circumstances.

Tom is a dependable person for both Shiv and Greg through his emotional support as well as professional support for these people.

2. RECNY BALL Incident

In S01E04, the notable RECNY Ball takes place which is overshadowed by the fact that Tom receives papers about the Cruises Scandal from Bill. There are two people that Tom informs about the papers : his assistant, Greg Hirsch and his wife to be, Siobhan Roy.

This is one of the multiple instances where Greg and Shiv are placed in the same context for Tom.

When Gerri confronts Tom about the holding a press conference. However, (this is the point where the Tomgreg subtext becomes stronger) when Greg defends himself, Tom seems to believe him which ends up casting strong suspicion on Shiv. This is interesting as this takes place, weeks? days? after having met Greg for the first time and despite, fact that Tom is going to be married to Shiv, he doesn't trust her.

Greg's subordinate status to Tom and his disconnect from the Roys (the situation happens to be opposite for Shiv) is what makes Tom believe him in the first place. Tom has never felt secure in his relationship with Shiv because of his perceived inferior status. However, in regards to Greg, he's in a more balanced position (even superior to Greg) which is why he feels strongly about protecting Greg as well as is comfortable in his relation (though he expresses jealousy? at Greg's closeness with Kendall professionally later on).

He assigns the job of burning the papers to Greg which brings the both closer as they have a secret between them. (Even Shiv doesn't know about the papers until their wedding) Greg and Tom can trust each other to some extend because of the Cruises burning incident because if one of them reveals it then the other goes down. (This analysis does not currently take into account Greg revealing the papers at the press conference - by that point he's reached a position where he can reach out for things other than what Tom can offer him)

3. They both betray Tom as well as Logan

Shiv joins Nate professionally which leads her to not only later cheat on Tom despite their ongoing engagement, but it also brings her into conflict with Logan Roy as she decides to align herself with Senator Gil Eavis who is extremely anti-Logan. Her alliance with Nate causes strong jealousy for Tom wherein he asks Shiv about Nate (which also later is apparent with how Tom humiliates him later with the wine).

In a similar vein, Greg encourages Kendall during the night of Shiv's wedding with "things have to change here". And later on, not only aligns himself such strongly with Kendall that prompts Tom to ask him about it during Hungary and says "a girl can start to wonder."

Both of these alliances are detrimental to Logan as they challenge his place in the throne. However, Shiv's alliance with Eavis collapses easily due to difference in views. It would be interesting if the Kenstar Gregco alliance lasts longer due to the consequences that might result if they try to break apart as well as the blood bond which makes the link more stronger.

4. They both negotiate with Gerri using the Cruises Papers

Tracking on the fact that Shiv and Greg are the ones that mainly know about the papers. They leverage this information in a way that benefits them or creates additional favours for them.

This is initially seen when Greg rats out Tom's plan to do a new conference exposing Cruises to Gerri which is how she shuts him down quickly. This gives Greg a favourable opinion from Gerri, a proximity to the power of Waystar and benefits him even though it screws Tom over.

In a similar vein, Shiv does the same thing when she negotiates with Gerri, Logan's spokesperson, during her wedding night to stop the attacks on Eavis. She uses it to benefit the person she is working for.

This is a very small similarity, but is also another way they both mirror each other in the arc of the story.

5. A sense of moral superiority

Again minor point, but interestingly, both Shiv and Greg have a sense of moral superiority over not being as involved in the business and their sense of doing the right thing.

(This may later diminish as both get more and more stuck with the core of the business, but this is at like early S2)

Greg brings it up first when Tom brings him to ATN with his whole speech on "principles". Tom admonishes Greg with "of course, we're trying to do the right thing. We all are, so don't go talking about principles."

A similar thing repeats when Shiv admonishes Tom about Logan's decision to purchase Pierce. She makes a point about how terrible ATN is the fact that she needs to get proper news from a "respectable" source.

Both of them throw Tom's involvement with ATN as well as Waystar by a way of sticking to principles while being incredibly hypocritical themselves.

6. "Open Marriage"

This is self-explanatory for the most part, but at the same time, it's one of the biggest points for this mirror as well as for Tomgreg.

As mentioned before Tom feels a sense of inferiority with Shiv, which is why he is the more meeker one in the relationship. Which makes him accept the "open marriage" idea with Shiv even though he is essentially being cheated on the entire time.

However, in regards to Greg, the same inferiority does not appear. And by the time, the famous "I will not let go of what is mine" scene, Tom and Greg are friends to a bit. They go out for the ortolan scene (which has a separate analysis about physical hunger and queerness as well later - food metaphors are strong in Succession), Greg tells Tom about Shiv's cheating and Tom has brought Greg into ATN.

[These small things cement the relationship between them and show that Tom and Greg enjoy themselves outside the confines of Waystar which Tom and Shiv struggle with as seen in the case of their honeymoon]

However, Greg's use of "open marriage" causes Tom to not only express his anger, but provides a space to express the anger. He publicly declares how upset he feels that Greg wants to leave and interestingly, uses relationship specific terms like "break up" to talk about Greg's proposal. He repeatedly asserts that Greg is "his" and this brings in a context of jealousy with Kendall when Tom questions about Greg spending more time with Kendall later on in Hungary.

7. They both ask favours from Tom which put him in trouble with Logan

In the Hungary episode, both Shiv and Greg ask Tom do certain favours (In case of Shiv, it is for Tom to ask Logan about the Pierce deal and convey everybody's dissatisfaction. And in case of Greg, it is to hide that fact that he met with Pantsil from Logan).

Now, Tom has been clearly established as a strong sycophant in regards to whoever is at the helm of Waystar (conveying Kendall about Ewan coming to the board meeting as well as cheering on Logan when he announces Pierce) so the only way he would take a risk for a person is if he's close to them. This makes sense in case of Shiv as she is his literal wife, however, this comparison is interesting when we think about Greg in this context. Tom goes lengths to protect Greg to the point he is humiliated by the employees and his in-laws only which is huge as throughout the entire series Tom has simply been trying to fit in with the Roys to the point, he wants to change his last name after marriage.

8. Both are put in position where they are can be the successor of the company and in turn, can become Tom's boss

This happens mostly at the end of S2, but, the entire time Shiv is championed as the Successor by Logan Roy himself which makes Tom assume that he will later on succeed her. However, this is turned to the head when Shiv proclaims that she does want to run the company. In doing so, she will become Tom's boss which is disappointing to Tom because, it will only emphasis on his sense of inferiority as well as the fact that he cannot take care of her (because as established before he is the person that cares for people, especially ones that he loves).

A same dynamic emerges as Greg aligns himself with Kendall. This exponentially increases his chances of being the Successor (especially if Kendall drops out somehow either due to drugs or any other circs) which would also untie the two Roys. This would similar draw the same conflict Tom faces with Shiv as the successor.

Therefore, in bringing Shiv and Greg together again and again, I feel like it enhances the romantic subtext between Tom and Greg (as it literally swaps out the man's wife for his lanky assistant) as well as brings out a stronger comparison as Tom and Greg have done things to each other as well as for each other which ties them together more closely than Tom and Shiv.

Just imho.

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[classysmashy]

Right Behind You Baby

#2/??? of Nuclear Winter

ZoNa Holiday 2020 Entry Prompt 2 (Under the Christmas Tree / Something Red)

@zonamievents 

One Piece in Fallout Universe (kinda~) [I do not own One Piece or Fallout]

AN: It’s done! Took awhile to get it together, but I’m happy with how it turned out. Since I’m behind, there will be a double update tonight with this one (pretty casual) and another one (bit of a darker mood) that are readied up, major apologies on the wait. Ideas are easy, but words are hard. I’m so happy that people liked the first one and I hope that this one also holds you’re interest, it’s so much fun to write. <3 Also, I need more of Nami and Usopp being open friend with each other in my life. I just can’t help how much I think the two would be honest with one another and gossipy. And, if it isn’t clear yet, I live for horny Nami not being able to catch a break. ;) Honestly, I can’t believe you read all of these rambles and haven’t moved to the story yet...

Rated: T for Blood, Violence, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 5,716

*****

Nami hadn't been lying to Zoro when she said she was a busy woman. Of course, when they got back, there was Chopper fretting his little self over Nami's injuries and racing over his hooves to carry out the upmost care to her. It made her a little sad to worry him so much, but nothing could be done about it now.

By the time Chopper had properly wrapped her up and let her leave the infirmary, Luffy had whisked Zoro away and the two were gone on another job. 

Which meant Nami wouldn’t see Zoro again for at least a week, knowing Luffy’s track record of getting off topic from the original reason he would set out, and that wasn’t even counting in the times the two would get lost. Great.

Yet, maybe that was a good thing for now, she thought after arriving back at her bedroom, picking up Zoro’s jacket that he seemed to have forgotten about. A soft roll of Nami’s eyes accompanied the moment she brought the fabric close to her chest, pressing her nose to it. There was a mix of the Deathclaw blood, the radiated wasteland, dirt and grass, but it was worth getting a huff of those smells just to be able inhale Zoro’s scent from the jacket.

A musky metal and sweat and booze, but it was Zoro, and her head spun as she fell back on her mattress of her bed, still clutching the jacket close.

Slipping her eyes closed, Nami let her mind drift back to the heat of his hand in her pants, mind you, it was only a second, but it was only a second she needed to lash onto for her thoughts to race of him doing more than just snapping the band of her panties.

The jacket laid nicely over her eyes, covering it entirely and the scent intoxicating, taking both hands and tracing her fingers down ever so slowly along the side of her breasts, ghosting over the fresh bandages on her stomach, and arriving at the front of her jeans.

Zoro, Zoro, Zoro. Nami could only think of him, his rough hands on her body, hot lips working her... 

She popped open the button and pulled the zipper down. If it was Zoro, he would have taken the damn metal between his teeth and yanked it away, his one good eye burning her alive. And that was only if he hadn’t cut them to bits yet in frustration of wanting her.

Nami’s body came alight, her hands were so close to the promised area, just as close as Zoro’s body had been so many times in the past couple days, oh how she wished that Chopper hadn’t interrupted them yesterday...

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Oiii, Nami! You’re back, right?! Chopper said you were!” A frustrated whimper was drowned out by the fabric of the jacket. 

Usopp. Of all people that had to come by now, it was Usopp. There was no way he would leave her alone, even if she had fallen asleep already.

Fixing her jeans back and folding the jacket to place on the right side table by the bed, Nami came to her feet to let the fool in. 

“You do realize what time it is, right, Usopp?” she had questioned as soon as their eyes met around the hunk of junk, his nose pressing into her cheek with how much he invaded her space right away.

“Yeah, but goodness Nami, those ugly monsters really did get you good! I thought Chopper had to be lying!” Usopp pulled back, pushing one hand under his chin and the other at his hip. “It’s too bad I wasn’t there, I would have taken those Deathclaws out in a millisecond, after all, the Great Usopp here had killed a whole horde of a hundred Deathclaws on his own just at the age of nine!” 

Her eye twitched and it took all the strength in the world to not out right punch the idiot to stop him in the middle of one of his over the top lies. 

“Right, right, the Great Usopp would have killed them in a flash and not have been forced to play Mommy,” Nami teased, watching the way Usopp scrunched up his nose and blanched at what she had been insinuating.

“There’s no way that I could help them breed, I don’t have those types of organs in me!” his voice hit a shrilly octave, hands flapping around at the insanity. “That’s only something Robin would say, did they put the wrong memories into your synth?”

That really got to her and Nami’s fist connected with the top of Usopp’s head, sending him down to the floor with a cry of panic and pain, clutching the bumps forming. “Don’t say something that only the idiots from that city would say! I’m tired of hearing what does and doesn’t make someone a synth!”

“I’m so sorry!” Usopp cried, running behind Nami and taking shelter at her bed. “Though, I guess you won’t be too happy with what I came here about if it means having to go to the big city.”

Stretching out a frown, Nami closed the door finally and took a seat next to him on the mattress, wrapping her plaid blanket across her shoulders. “Sabaody? Why do I need to go to Sabaody?” She winced at the tiny twinge within the muscles of her leg alerting her to the care it needed that only could be gotten from a well rested night.

Her thin fingers kneaded the skin while Usopp leaned back on his arms, “Well, you’re the one that always says our trades should be worth their while and a caravan is leaving tomorrow to trade our water surplus for bottlecaps. Plus, Franky is wanting some more shipments for materials that go into decorations.” He brought his left hand to Nami’s leg as well, helping to massage the pain away. Usopp was always a sweet friend to have around, even if he could get annoying with his tall tales.

Nami rung her head side to side, trying to uncoil some of the pressure. “Mmm, that’s true and I guess it wouldn’t hurt to catch up on any stories that have been floating around that we should be privy to.” Usopp took over the massage completely with both of his hands, letting her lay on her back to toss the leg into his lap.

“Oh? Like how there’s rumors of you and Zoro being weird in the hall outside of your mikan trees yesterday?” his voice was teasing and he made a snicker like he had the full scoop of what went down and more. Nami’s hand coming forward to swat his arm, but her eyes didn’t hold any actually discomfort from the question.

“If you mean weird in Zoro planning to rail me out of the blue in a semi-public hallway, then you would be correct,” she dug her teeth into her bottom lip, not even trying to hide the grin she had. Nami’s loud giggling echoed around the room at the way Usopp’s eyes went wide like dinner plates and stuttered over his thoughts of the image.

Usopp gave up on the massage to flop in a laying position beside, curling his arm under his head and gathering together his racing mind. When Nami turned more to him and the two looked like a pair of teenage girls from those old magazine pictures, he seemed to finally decide on what he wanted to say.

“I want to know, but I don’t want to know. But, I do want to know why you didn’t let him after all this hopeless pinning you come to rant my ear off about after your thirty-fifth bottle of wine,” garnering a laugh from both of them. 

That was true, she’d spent so much time turning to Usopp as the only person she could properly talk about the feelings that had been creeping through her about Zoro and he listened well, helping her calm down at the times she would be so freaked out inside about how it could be possible to like, let alone be falling in love, with the meathead. It couldn’t be helped that she trusted him the most as her best friend and the only normal person in a relationship —Nami didn’t feel comfortable in giving away the information to Robin or Franky, as they would definitely tell one another and force her into situations with Zoro like sneaky rats.

Curling the blanket tightly around her body in one swift movement, Nami let out a long sigh. “Well, Chopper came around and Zoro started off being weird by pointing out how I had been avoiding him and saying to never do it again and just deciding all of a sudden to make a move. He said it was because of Brook, but I'm still confused from how strong he came on to me,” she drummed her fingers on the mattress and Usopp gave his own sigh in reply.

“Well, it can't be helped that the two of you would have an awkward phase, right? You're switching from being friends that always berate each other to possible lovers. Trust me, it’ll be a weird and awkward switch for everyone if the two of you do make that decision to cross those thresholds.” 

Usopp had grown an understanding about dynamic’s between lovers that could only be achieved by being in a relationship —as he liked to say himself. And while Nami was sure that officially being with Kaya had changed some things for Usopp, there was nothing that could make up for how different the dynamic he understood with Kaya that varied from the dynamic between herself and Zoro.

But it was still sweet of him to try and downplay her worries so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed too much.

“Thank you,” Nami whispered, her body slowly relaxing to lay flat on her back, head lolling to the side as she began to doze off. 

A hint of a chuckle left Usopp and she felt the bed dip when he stood up. “Don’t worry about it!” Lights caught the corner of his eye and he turned his attention to a small metal table pushed into the farthest right corner of the room with a Christmas tree resting upon it. “Ohhh, that’s pretty, feeling a bit festive, huh? Well, that’s exactly why Franky is wanting more supplies, so he’ll be able to spruce up the place for people to have a bit of holiday cheer around here. I mean, it’s not like we haven’t celebrated all together before, but so many people in this world haven’t thought about holidays their entire lives and him and Luffy decided it would be a great morale boost for all the new folk around.”

The Christmas tree was a tiny tabletop one stuck to a mat as the bottom and a piece of metal going straight through the middle to be the stand. The tree itself was a dark pine, dazzling with mini ceramic string lights wrapped into the shape of the branches, leading to a prefect star at the top of the tree, shining a golden hue along the table. On the mat beneath the Christmas tree, there was about twenty to thirty mini presents varying in sizes and colors, though all of them sparkled like glitter and had a beautiful red bow to adorn the top. 

She was sure of the beauty a life-sized Christmas tree would be, but it was hard to come by any of these tabletop ones that had survived the wasteland and Nami worried that it would be even worse for Franky to try and recreate such things for their home. But, then again, she really shouldn’t doubt Franky’s skills and knack to make anything that he set his mind on, he was a Strawhat after all, and it only seemed proper he would have a fortitude to carry out the very reason he had joined up.

“You should leave and get some rest, Usopp, and let me rest too if I’m going to be protecting the caravan, huh?” Nami stretched out a lethargic smile to the long-nose and he gave a wide grin back. “Hey, are you done messing around with my Clima Baton yet?”

Usopp scratched at the back of his head with a choky laugh, “Almost, uh, shouldn’t be much longer, but I assure it will be worth the wait!” 

If she wasn’t so sleepy, Nami would have gave him a solid beating for the answer, but instead gritted her teeth together. “Won’t you just go ahead and tell me what it is you’re doing exactly with my precious weapon?”

“Definitely not! It’s a surprise!” Usopp shouted and straightened his spin up before zooming off to the bedroom door, peaking his head around the wood one last time to wish her goodnight then sprinting away down the hall.

Mumbling to herself about how it was taking forever for him to do whatever it was with her weapon, Nami quickly faded into a dreamless sleep, much needed for the coming week.

*****

A trip ranging from the Strawhats personal settlement to the outskirts of the grand city of Sabaody Archipelago would take a full week, give or take the time that she and the others walked and whether the brahmin wanted to keep a fast pace or not.

Before even leaving the compound, Nami had decided she would send one person back on their own before the rest after arriving in Sabaody as to get the supplies Franky wanted to him faster. That would mean five people in total would start on the job, but only four would travel back together with the brahmin. 

Sure, she and the four other somewhat new settlers to the settlement could just carry plenty of the water cans to Sabaody to save time on the trip, but that would mean sacrificing money that could be made from loading up the Brahmin with many cases and sacks filled to the brim. 

Nami would never sacrifice money that could be used to improve their lives, so there was no way she would choose a different option. 

The trip to Sabaody would be complicated, she had explained to the settlers once everyone geared up and left the gates of safety. There wouldn’t be a good, straight shot to the city and the only available pathway would put them in broad visibility, meaning the risk of being attacked by raiders, gunners, rogue robots or synths, super mutants, ghouls, Deathclaws, mole rats, radroaches, and the likes were higher than the normal run of the mill luck to ending up in bad fights.

Well, to put it mildly, an hour into traversing and she had finished off her small speech of what they would go through, the settlers decided that next time they would avoid a Sabaody caravan trip. 

But, really, what could go wrong? Nami tried to play it down, just as Usopp managed to help her the night before. It wasn’t easy to take the edgy off of them though and rather than help, she soured the mood even more.

Nothing was wrong with a quiet trip, it gave a better chance to listen out for impending doom.

*****

Not much had happened on their first day out, nor the second day either, the tarnished blacktop of highways seeming to never end and the polluted waters they passed by glowing up a storm that made Nami’s skin crawl. 

The downside of winter meant the night sky would shine above sooner in the day and the sudden darkness only played more into the isolating, eerie air the wasteland had when the tragedies could no longer be seen. It wasn’t the same as the high roller city in the desert where they had spent time with Vivi, oh how the night never came there because of the lights that was forever aglow, compared to the wasteland that had been swiped of all such things and left a shell.

Sometimes she wondered about Vivi, if the princess would ever collide paths with them again and have fun times together as well. Thinking back on the girl though brought a memory to the forefront of her mind she had seemed to discarded.

Vivi had tossed around in the other bed of the girl’s cabin for hours on end before asking if Nami had been awake. Once she had realized that, yes, Nami had never went to sleep, she let loose what had been plaguing her mind. 

“There was just something so interesting in how Mr. Bushido looked at you today!”

The statement had caught Nami off-guard, as nothing of particular note had gone on during that day and was only spent drifting along and waiting for the time of finally reaching Alabasta. Nami had tried to get her to explain more, but Vivi was too caught on the fact that it had to of been a loving stare that he gave the orange-haired navigator and was happy to get it off her chest. 

It had been such an odd thing at the time, but also not so odd. She played it off with Vivi that her eyes must have been wrong in what she saw, that Zoro was probably looking at her in scorn and hoping that she would burn up on the spot and making the debt he owned Nami to also vanish.

Yet now, looking back on that moment, there seemed that some of what she thought was wrong could have been real. That Vivi had seen him with a wanting stare at her so long ago and well before she had gotten to this moment.

Tilting her eyes to the sky, the sun inking out from the clouds marked the third day of the caravan’s walk and that she had also spent the entire night awake thinking of just how long ago Zoro’s view shifted of her.

*****

The afternoon creeped on quickly, Nami’s leg had started swelling only an hour into the restart of their walk, but she had toughened it out so far with the thought of how the sooner the whole thing was over, the sooner she would get some good rest and not be on the leg doing strenuous activity. 

A simple snowfall had started only a mere few minutes ago, the sky painted a soft white that went for miles and the snow falling to a melt instantly. It was a pretty picture, one that made up for the surroundings outside of the bubble of paradise that could exist in such moments.

And it was that distraction, her eyes so focused onto the sky, she had missed the warning sight of gunners facing off against a legion of super mutants, cutting off the rest of the highway with their battle, and the five of them walking right in-between the onslaught.

Zoro would have chewed her ear out with a grin of how she was worse than him, waltzing into a fight that could have taken care of itself. Damn idiot creeping into Nami’s mind, he would have easily put down both sides without so much as a yawn.

In a flash, one of the settlers grabbed for the brahmin and led it to hide out behind an overturned semi-truck they had just passed up, leaving her and the other three to duck behind a concrete traffic barrier. Making sure it was full on ammo, Nami gripped the laser pistol she’d been using with both hands, peering her head a hair of an inch beyond the barrier to mark her aim for a super mutant.

No person in their right mind would rather take on super mutants alone, and aiding the gunners for a moment before they would turn their fire onto Nami would be fine if it meant the worse threat of the two was dealt with.

The green giants, a darker shade of green than Zoro’s hair, towered with miniguns that seemed to never cease an end of a rain of bullets, and the group of six all were packing one. Except for the suicider strapped up with mini nukes making a run towards a gunner squatting behind a metal bin, only a couple seconds of beeping indicating the explosion that blew the body of the super mutant into flying chunks.

Sometimes, the amount of suffering that the super mutants had been through made them so dumb they didn’t even understand how they were causing their own death, along with ally super mutants. Which, is what the suicider did, as the gunner’s head and limbs promptly tore from the rest of the flesh and bone and muscles of his torso, blood sprouting out everywhere. 

Two of the super mutants, with their miniguns in hand, were shaken by the blast, sending them backwards firing upon each other rapidly during the stupor, killing one another with multiple shots to the head.

That left them with four super mutants and seven gunners. 

How fun it was to wait it out and see the wild shenanigan's the wasteland offered on its own before a somewhat sane person intervened, Luffy would’ve gotten a good kick out of seeing something like that, Nami would definitely have to pass the story to him about the scene.

Just as she was releasing off some rounds towards the hands of the closest super mutant —hoping to cause enough damage to make him drop the minigun— one of the settlers yanked open their pack to reveal an array of grenades, catapulting nearly ten cryogenic grenades and diving back down to hide out of view again. Each one landed and exploded right by the super mutants, delivering a shock of pain through each one over and over again, freezing their bodies in place for a handful of seconds between each blast.

There were better ways the grenades could have been put to use, a plan worked out, but that didn’t matter now as one of the gunners suddenly tossed out his own grenade, which was a plasma one that knocked the four super mutants to the ground as soon as the green wave burst out and hit them. It was only about two seconds that they were down, but the force of the hit made them lose hold of their miniguns and made easy picking to drive bullets into their heads.

With the gunners sending all their firepower in and Nami aiming nicely timed shots into eyes that Usopp would be proud of, the super mutants were dead in a matter of minutes and once the last body had dropped, the gunners turned their attention towards Nami and the three settlers with her.

Bullets ricocheted and got caught into the concrete as the gunners began running down to surround them, her and the other settlers shifted around to get in some shots from the side rather than raising their heads to easy hits. The first one to run up on them had looked dead into Nami’s eyes, cocking the shotgun in her hands and placing the barrel at the space between Nami’s eyes.

Unloading the whole clip of thirty shots into the female gunners own face, Nami drew back and clutched her chest, trying to even out the ragged breathes that came from being so close to a bullet in the head.

One settler to her right was using a semi-upgraded 10mm pistol, burying bullets into a gunners shoulder and creating a splatter of blood as the arm endured too much of the burning metal and tore itself away, flying into the face of the gunner beside him upon death.

Five more.

Even though gunners were extremely skilled in the area of guns, they also seemed to go down pretty easily just as a normal raider would because of being a normal human, and that was what helped Nami regained her strength to finish the fight off.

The settler that went with the brahmin peaked himself out, guiding down the scope of a pipe rifle to split open a hole through the left ear and ripping out of the right ear of one of the gunners.

Four more.

Nami took the moment to reload the laser pistol and left the position of hiding out behind the barrier to run up on the last of the gunners perched on the hood of a rusted and busted pickup truck. She easily shot through the one who jumped off and rushed at her, sending the gunner to the ground in a final scream filled with agony at the hole left in his gut. The female gunner who had been behind him on the hood shot at Nami’s feet, but she ignored the hail, raising up to focus in a shot and the blast from the laser melting the gunner into a puddle of ash.

Past her head, a storm of bullets impaled the final two gunners, one bashing into the open cab and dying out in a folded position while the other tried to rush Nami with the last of her strength. 

The gunner knocked into Nami’s body like a ram, hands clawing out at the fabric of Zoro’s jacket she wore and slamming her head into the edge of the highway railing. Just below had to be a fifty foot drop into a heavy stream of a river, and if Nami didn’t die on impact, then she would have died by the rush of the water beating into her body. In an act to prevent herself from being thrown over, Nami brought her right foot into the gunner’s ankle, causing the gunner to stumble and release the hold over Nami.

Bringing her knee between the legs of the gunner, Nami used the moment of confusion to push her over the side of railing, leaning in to watch the pulls sweep the body into a thrashing current and the screams came to a silent halt.

No more. 

All of them were huffing in puffs of air, trying to regain a footing after the battle. This was a normal day in the wasteland, how could she have forgotten about things like this?

Too much time spent behind walls and tending to those needs was clearly taking a toll on what Nami could do away from the building societies. If it kept up, would she really be able to call herself a survivor anymore? How many times was she going to put herself close to death in simple situations? 

Something needed to change.

*****

The rest of the week was still filled with fighting for their lives, though not to any troubling extent that super mutants posed, but it seemed a multitude of raiders had decided to bug out along the highways for the winter, bracing themselves for any heavy storms that may come. Not a single snowstorm had hit during the travel, which had to be an upside since there didn’t have to be any stops or struggling to make it away through piles of snow.

When the unnerving border of the Sabaody Archipelago came into view, its trees extending among the clouds, there was a choir of cheers from the settlers she set out with and the brahmin waddling forward to lead the way to safety this time. It was the dead of night though and Nami was sure that there wouldn’t be any merchants available until the morning, so she paid for hotel rooms for the settlers, got the brahmin set up somewhere safe, the water put away with one of the settlers, and took off to a familiar bar.

All the feelings that had been swarming her lately and after the many gun fights, Nami needed a nice drink. 

She strolled along a worn out path of stones, zoning out to the cracks between each one. A set of shadows from the overarching trees were casting spookily over the sleeping city, but that was until a swarm of lights broke out over Nami.

“Woah,” her breathe had been taken away from her body as soon as her eyes laid on the sight sitting in front of her.

It seemed that her worries were wrong.

Standing at least seventy-five feet, was a beautiful spruce tree that was still brimming in life, the branches sprouting out in silverish green. Wrapped around the Christmas tree was thousands of string lights, all glinting off each other and sharing the light to the ground below and surroundings. In different shapes and sizes were cute ornaments, round bold colored ones, spiky ones with glitter, plaided cones, and even handmade ones that were probably put up by citizens. At the very top was a shining star, swaying in the wind and sending a spark of its golden light in different directions with each movement.

Beautiful, so beautiful. 

Seeing the real deal of a Christmas tree like this up close and personal didn’t compare to the idea she had in mind by the little light up tabletop Christmas tree she had in her room back home.

Nami was certain now that she definitely wanted Franky to decorate the compound for Christmas or she wouldn’t be able to live there without seeing a beauty like this when she woke up in her bed during the winter mornings.

Across the way from the Christmas tree was a rundown bar where Nami was planning to stop in, the words had gotten more faded since the last time she had been around, but there was no way that someone in the area didn’t know who’s bar it was.

A soft chime above her head alerted the few in the bar of Nami’s entry. Standing behind the counter was a tall woman with a dark bob of hair, cigarette perched between her lips as she read a newspaper. The woman’s eyes glossed above the paper with a smirk at Nami, folding it away and blowing out a cloud of smoke.

“Impeccable timing as ever, Nami,” the woman curled her lips as Nami settled at the bar, pointing at a bottle of whiskey on the top shelf. She needed a hard drink that was worth the money and knew that Shakky would deliver on that here.

Watching the drink splash around in the glass, Nami twirled a strand of hair, “Why do you say that? Did something happen that I wished I had been here to learn about?” 

Knocking back the glass in one gulp, it slammed to the table with a hard raddle, Shakky filling it again as she talked, “No, instead you narrowly missed that Monkey-chan and the grump.” Nami paused midway to carrying the glass for another fast gulp.

“Luffy and Zoro were here? When?” To think she had been so close again to being able to talk, but missed him, her luck seemed to be running up lately.

“They only left a few hours ago, not sure of where they're headed, but they did seem to know you were going to be here,” Shakky smiled slyly, looking too much like Robin when she really wanted to tease someone, and Nami felt her stomach do an uneasy flop. “The grump left this for you.” In a fluid motion, she had pulled out a flat plain white envelope and slid it to the younger girl’s grasp.

Nami stared at it, burning holes through it with her eyes and questions zooming around in her head of what exactly was inside of it. 

“He also said it would be best to read outside,” Shakky finally laughed this time, shaking her head at the antics the man pulled and made her carry out for him. 

“Shakky,” Nami swallowed down the second glass of whiskey and laid out some bottlecaps on the counter, scooting out of the squeaky metal, “I’ll come back tomorrow to talk more. Have a good night.” She didn’t even wait to hear a response from the older woman or notice Rayleigh coming from the back to greet her, just picked the envelope and took back off into the night.

Once right outside of the bar, she dug into the envelope with shaky hands, the cold night eating her up. Within it had been one slip of a thick card that Zoro wrote a note for her on.

“Nami, the real tree is better than that one in your room, right? Search beneath the tree outside of Shakky’s and you might find something you’ll enjoy. —Zoro”

The thought of Zoro hiding a gift for her made a heat bloom through her chest, the tingly feeling in her spine reappearing. She instantly rushed over to the tree, keeping her brown eyes peeled for any sort of box or bag that Zoro had left behind. 

About halfway around the tree, a small box wrapped in red with a light green ribbon finally caught her eye and she settled on her knees to tear open the box beneath the tree. Once the paper was away and the cardboard box rested on her hand, she gently pulled the lid away to reveal a bracelet.

The bracelet was a simple band of polished gold with three different charms hanging off of it. The first charm was meant to represent her, she’d assumed by the plate having a 2Dcarved compass on it. Next was a charm to represent Zoro, three swords carved into the gold plate. And the final charm was a gold plate that had a mikan carved into it and there was the three swords being stabbed through the fruit, showing how the two were connected.

Grinning, Nami put the bracelet on, being extra careful of harming it when she slid it on. She turned her wrist back and forth, seeing how it looked so good and perfect on her.

She was alone beneath the tree. To anyone else, it would be a sad sight to see a gorgeous woman all alone beneath a Christmas tree when she received a gift, but that didn’t matter to Nami at all.

Her eyes guided up the tree again and brought the jacket she wore to her nose.

Zoro’s scent was nearly gone by now.

Because even though she was alone under the tree, Zoro was still with her by a small way that he made the decision on. 

[findingtheperfectcharacter]

Teacher in the streets...

I need more black Logan in my life. No tw's for this one folks, just a fun one-shot. But if you can think of a tw, tell me

Logan yawned as he pressed the off button on his alarm, clumsily grabbing his glasses from the nightstand. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed as the short curls and knots inevitably wrapped themselves around his fingers. He muttered to himself as he walked to the bathroom that he shouldn't do that. It wasn't helpful to actually getting knots out like a good comb, but the act always brought him a strange amount of comfort.

He moved from the bathroom back to his room to take out his clean, pressed blue and black stripped tie and polo. Frankly he was going to need all the comfort he could get today, the faculty was having a racial sensitivity awareness meeting.

He moved to the kitchen to make himself a black coffee, 2 eggs and two slices of toast. He understood why the meetings were useful, on an intellectual level. If white people aren't reminded every 5 minutes that nonwhite people are people, they might forget. He just hated that he had to go and be the only black face in the room while white presenters teach other white people why saying, ‘You're not like those people. Not in a bad way, you're just different from a lot of black people I know in a good way.' Isn't the compliment they think it is and pat each other on the back while they pull the same shit a week later-

Ding

He pulled the toast out of the toaster and slathered it with Crofters. Maybe a bit more. A little more. And maybe just a spoonful for himself for luck and good graces for the rest of the day. 

As he drove to the University he took a few deep breaths, luckily traffic wasn’t too miserable, he found it fairly easy to put on his professional face. He was Dr. S, winner of the Robert H. MacArthur award for his work in ecology. He was intelligent, confident- but never arrogant, and firm but never harsh or angry. He walked down the halls with an air of untouchability, but was willing to give lighthearted ‘good morning’ whenever he saw a student he knew pass or a fellow teacher that he knew or nodded at him. 

Despite how much he occasionally bitched, he really did love his job, he loved having all eyes- well most students eyes- on him as he talked about the nature of the understory. He had samples of lichen that he had the students pass around the auditorium so they could get a really good look at the fungi. He talked about how useful they are in maintaining the ecosystem and converting carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. He loved listening to them, his students were brilliant, often coming into situations with viewpoints he’d never even considered. He loved reading their discussion boards after class.

Students always entered his class with different levels of attachment to the environment, some were climate change deniers who joined the class to be contrary, others were here because they thought it would be easy science credits- he wasn’t in complete denial of the nature of teaching a college course- but he also knew the few in the course that genuinely wanted to be there. They interacted with the material with a level of passion that reminded him of himself in his youth. And some part of him hoped that his own level of interest rubbed off on those who were neutral or even outright hostile towards the subject matter. 

He moved towards his desk in the corner of the room and took out an envelope with a hand written letter from one of his students. It was about how the student had changed their major just because of his class. He’d sparked a passion in the student and made him believe that he could have an impact on the world around him. Discovering that he had made a real, tangible difference in a person’s life- it was one of the greatest moments in his career. 

One more class, than his lunch break, and of course-

The ever dreaded meeting.

Their voices were an endless, tiring drone, he found himself doodling on a piece of paper out of shear boredom until they reached a point in the meeting where they said something hilarious:

“We’re going to do a roleplay exercise so you can see how it feels.” 

Of course, despite the subject of the meeting, none of them could really get it and he sure as hell wasn’t going to go out of his way to relive events where white people called him, ‘aggressive’ for speaking in a clear and concise manner but as the aggressor just to help them understand.

Or at least, he wouldn’t do it in the here and now. 

For now he would be polite, all, ‘Can you understand why it may be upsetting to imply this’? and ‘I know your intentions were not meant to be unkind, but the effect of your words ultimately makes your intent irrelevant.’

A few hours later and he found himself at a slightly dingy apartment a few towns over. He pressed on the buzzer for Remus’s room, “Hey, it’s me.”

“AY bro! You sound like shit.”

Logan gave a small snort, “Matches how I feel, got any good beats ready?”

Logan could practically hear the grin on his face. When Remus was giddy it always meant trouble, “Always, stop being a stranger and get in here!” Yep, there were definitely going to be shenanigans afoot. But that was to be expected when Remus was your producer, everyone who was into underground stuff knew his name. Though not always for positive reasons. 

“I’ve been thinking about using the sound of broken glass as a beat drop on this one,” Remus practically dragged Logan into his room and sat him on the moth-eaten chair. “You know like Shatter, 4 beats of silence then the rapper comes back in and the beat goes harder than ever you know? But that’s for the big project, I’ve also been messing around with the sound that different like, levels of hardness- it’s goo so it’s not like hard, hard, not like this di-”

“The viscosity.” Logan nodded.

Remus snapped his fingers, “Yeah, that bitch! Just like, using the temperatures to create the notes!” He clapped his hands, “So, what do you want for the night? What’s the mood?”

 Logan sighed and tilted his head up as he looked at the ceiling. “The somber, harshness of hating the inevitabilities of life.” He blinked, “That’s oddly specific-”

Remus shook his head, “No, hey man. Don’t worry, I gottcha. You wanna record or nah?”

“Nah, not this one, this one’s just a warm up you know? Maybe a later one though I dunno lot of factors on hand.”

Remus nodded, “Gottcha gottcha gottcha,” he moved towards his laptop and looked through his tracks, squinting before his eyes lit up and he said, “Try this one on for size.”

The song started off with a dial tone noise with a fast-paced piano trilling between middle C and C#, the tones were discordant and harsh, but Logan found that they matched his own discordant feelings, towards his job, towards his life, towards himself. He let out those feelings through his words matching the pace of the music as it shifted and changed. Sentence after sentence flowed past his lips, the words adding clarity to his emotional state, giving him a sense of self that encouraged him to change his dynamics to match it, going from meek and discordant to harsh, clear certainty in seconds between lines. 

He would admit it wasn’t his best work, clearly, some of his word-play could have been better thought out (’I’ve met bitches with more intellect/at least Spot knows how to speak/Don’t mean much when you use acrolect/to say ‘let me take a peek’ was unnecessarily vulgar and likely didn’t sound as good aloud as he thought it did.) but he felt alive when he said it. The music ran through his veins and into his soul as he spoke. 

No matter whether a day was awful or great he would have this place. His sanctuary. 

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Rise Above

Soooo I’ve been OBSESSING over the Witcher series (and currently reading Book 2 in my off time). I can’t seem to get Geralt out of my head and I basically ran out of fics to read/ patiently awaiting updates, so I let my imagination flow with this one. 

It’s going to be a multi-fic with the first three chapters completed and too many ideas brewing. I’m thinking of posting weekly (every Sunday) if there is interest? Please let me know what you think! All feedback is greatly appreciated. I’m also finishing up some Mayan stories because the fandom needs some extra love. 

Masterlist

Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k 

Warnings: slight man bashing, language

****************************************************

Since early adolescence mother always cautioned of the intrepid bewilderments and betrayals men were guilty of alluding to. Their mortal trickeries and wickedness so elegantly aimed to prey upon their next doe-eyed victim patiently awaiting. Mother also taught her to never succumb to their predatorial tendencies without a fight. For this made Y/N swear to never become what others around her so willingly yielded to, and that was a promise she intended to uphold until her last untimely breath. Even against her worst nightmares, Y/N would willingly glower straight into death’s mischievously hollowed eyes than ever give a man a sliver of power over her very existence especially without her consent. Her mother made sure of that.

Y/N reigned from the bountiful lands of Temeria. Plentiful on unharvested acreages and majority of kind folk. Her livelihood rotated between feeding livestock, sharpening blades, tending to her colorful harvested gardens, and riding her beloved stallion, Mr. Darcy among many other hobbies that encapsulated her attention. Days blended into months as Y/N kept with her daily chores watching in discomfort as her mother pretended their lives weren’t about to be upended in numerous ways. Even the mere existence of magic couldn’t make undeniable ailments evaporate. Humans were a multifaceted bag of bones; mages were an untouchable species still yet to perfect their untapped capabilities. Y/N wasn’t too keen on categorizing herself hence her importance of isolation. Her once radiant mama rapidly dissolved into emaciation, staying presently beside Y/N for a moment’s more of honest love.

“Do not let fear grip its’ treacherous claws into you. For I know the searing pain of losing a beloved.” A ragged gasp slipped her lips as she ventured on, her words choppy. “I spent a good amounts time wallowing. Misery is an old friend. And its occasional deviousness ruses you sometimes into thinking that its constant companionship will remain and that one is unable to attain blissful happiness. But you can, you can walk away from pain. Never forget your choices, my love.”

“You have my word, forever and beyond. I will live in your image.”              

Her bones progressively weakened as many sleepless nights withered into dusk; her skin once glowed with the light of a thousand suns now had a clammy-cool manifestation.  Y/N refused to acknowledge the painful jab that infiltrated her deceitful senses, so she stayed the course and masked her outlandish emotions. Now wasn’t the time for pity. But her one solace and comfort were the freedom and exhilaration her morning rides brought to her burdened soul. It was in these hushed moments of tranquility she could actually feel the fresh air maneuver throughout the entirety of her body, engulfing her lungs in a welcoming burn.  He truly was a beauty to behold. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the flitter of his silver mane reflected upon a summer’s day or the thickening of his luscious coats preparing for a long winter. When her loneliest moments fleetingly caught up to her, she was never sincerely lonesome.

Old wives’ tales voiced intricately woven fantasies of princesses awaiting their rescuers in decaying castles merely passing time as their hair grew longer in confinement. Y/N recollected eavesdropping upon the town baker’s inviting stories by the ages of nine, quests chockfull of bravery and resolution, doubt beginning to flood her veins. Another story, another vapid man to ‘save’ the day. She could barely hide the chuckle that fell off her lips when she dare glance at the girls lost in tragic intrigue. One tale in specific resided in her childish memory; painting a certain princess that captured the eye of a handsome knight all within the shadows of her forbidden fortress. His velvety voice promising her everything her heart was trained to desire, all she simply had to obey was his one command; to throw down her beautifully kept hair in order for her release to occur. Why were women forced to choose and best be timely in such a life altering circumstance? Y/N wondered if the Princess truly desired to be set free from her silent haven. 

Like clockwork, Y/N left the bakery in disarray all while quietly venting underneath her breath. The fable lived on for centuries later as all the women in her village maintained their perfectly kept long locks as long as the Gods allowed. From that moment on, Y/N kept her silky blue hair shoulder length and out of the way. Her mother should have named her rebellion by her mannerisms and ideals alone but deep inside her cavernous belly, she carried great pride of her kin, knowing she wasn’t graced with a foolish daughter as far back when she was safely in the warmth of her womb.

Y/N was brazenly gorgeous with a fierce lioness temperament that left men thirsting at her feet, but she merely wasn’t interested in what any suitor had to offer no matter the amount of gold, land, or riches. She was satisfied with little for her happiness to flourish. Her athletic build aided her in this strenuous life asking for no help and receiving none was her personal policy. Her lineage solidified their strength. Hushed whispers from townsfolk accursed them to witches but they had no humanly conception of the power that laid within their own bloodlines. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop men’s gazes upon the beautiful duo. 

Y/N had received no official training as mages were accustomed to but her mother put her faith wholly into her only living daughter. By five, Y/N was capable of complex charms and potions her mother had never laid witness to and for this simply delighted her. Y/N recognized that magic was a tedious give and take, an equal force of dynamics in order to maintain nature’s balance and in secret, she efficaciously thrived. Magic was an underlining necessity that Y/N made sure to never abuse in her favor no matter the situation. She was born and bred with a ferocious vigor and damned be the day she would allow her abilities to do her heavy lifting. Blood, sweat, and tears was her silver lining and Y/N be damned if that was ever taken away from her. She was always a compulsive pessimist, always looking for the soft brown spot in the fruit, pressing so hard she created it. She excelled in the art of secrecy always staying perfectly out of reach even to the woman who adored her completely.

Her mother’s passing hardened her seemingly aloof heart or so she was told.  Memories do not always soften with time; some grow vicious edges like knives. Some hearts will forever understand each other whether death’s door stand in their way or not. Curiously, she didn’t remember when she became exhausted. She didn’t remember when exhausted was no longer exhausted, it just was. The tiredness was in her hardened bones and she accepted this state of being bogged down in apathy. Though through her mountainous misery, goodness could often be found residing in the middle of hell.

Trapped in the comfortability of mundane routine, Y/N fantasized about a journey brimmed with mischief and riddled adventure, but little did she know the Gods were listening to her every whim. Fate and destiny happily intertwined. Over a period, her dreams grew consistently worrisome; haunted by an attractive man with hair the color of the moon, hypnotically golden orbs aside his more than chiseled features. If she were to extend her arm his way, he was just barely out of reach and oh, how she desired for a simple touch; to know what stood in front of her was reality or foolishness. 

What really unnerved her was the repeatedly jumbled words almost as if the man were submerged under harsh waters. His eyes relayed urgency that Y/N couldn’t quite decipher, not quite yet. With every vision entangling itself profoundly into the corridors of her singular subconscious, Y/N was further entranced by the strange gentleman she was graced with every night fall whether by coincidence or curse. And as he groggily faded into oblivion, Y/N had never slept so soundlessly in her entire existence.

[janeyseymour]

Escape- pt 6

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. 

Jane Seymour has stayed with Henry long enough. Cue Catherine of Aragon and the rest of the girls to save her.

Jane and Catherine meet the rest of the girls. Kind of a fluff filled chapter.

“Janey? Wake up, we’re here.”

“Huh?” Jane moved quickly.

“Are you ready to meet the others? If not, I can have Cathy tell the other girls to go away for a bit while we get situated.”

“I guess I have to be ready, right?” Jane smiled nervously. The two made their way to the door and Catherine opened the door.

“Cathy? Jane and I are here.”

“I’m in the kitchen! Girls! Come down and meet Cath and Jane!” A taller woman dressed in a blue tee shirt and jeans with an apron walked into the front room.

“Hi, you must be Jane. I’m Cathy.” The woman wiped her flour covered hands on her apron before sticking a hand out. Jane took it tentatively.

“Are you sure it’s alright that I stay here?”

“Of course. Cath didn’t really tell me much, and you don’t need to explain if you don’t want to. It seemed quite urgent though, and we have the space. Make yourself at home. I’m making chicken for dinner.” She sighed as she looked towards the stairs. “Anne, Anna, and Kat, get down here! We have guests!” What sounded like a herd of elephants came running out of a room upstairs, and three women came down quickly.

“Dinner this late at night?” Jane couldn’t help but ask.

“We all get a little distracted when we first get home from-” the woman in blue was interrupted.

“Anne Boleyn,” the woman in green smiles.

“I like your hair,” Jane compliments.

“Space buns! They’re a lot of fun!”

“You’ll learn Annie here is always doing something a bit chaotic. It’s entertaining.” Cathy smirked when Anne stuck her tongue out at her.

“She’s not wrong, but it's still rude to say out loud Parr.”

“I’m Anna. I have a dog. Are you allergic?”

“I’m not, and neither is Catherine.”

“Good. I wasn’t going to get rid of Queen anyway.”

“Anna!” The woman in pink exclaimed. “No need to be rude!” She turned to Jane and Catherine. “I’m also Katherine, but you can call me Kat, Kit, Kitty; I don’t really care which one you choose.”

“Wow. Your hair is-” Jane searched for the right word. “-vibrant.”

“I know right? Anne told me one day I should change it up, and I’ve done it ever since!” The younger woman played with the pink ends of her hair.

“Do you guys want a tour?” Anne asked. The two new additions to the household nodded. The five went around the house while Cathy returned back to the kitchen to finish dinner.

“And don’t worry. You guys will figure out the dynamic of the household pretty quickly. Cathy is kind of the responsible voice of reason. Anna does her own thing.”

“Hey! I spend time with you two a lot!” Anna interjected.

Anne ignored her and continued, “Kat and I are kind of like the kids of the house. Always doing something mischievous. Keeps things interesting, you know?”

“Do you guys need help unpacking?” Kat tried to make herself useful.

“We actually don’t have much to unpack right now, but I am going to have someone send out the rest of our stuff soon if that’s alright,” Catherine stated.

“Do what you want man. This is your house now too. Although, there is only one bedroom left.”

“Jane can have it. I’ll just sleep on the couch or something.”

“Lina! I don’t mind sharing a room. What you guys are doing is more than enough, and we’ll definitely help out around the house and stuff. I really appreciate you guys taking us in on such short notice. You’re kind of saving my life actually,” Jane chuckled awkwardly. Only Catherine knew the truth in what she had just said. These women may have, quite literally, saved her life by allowing the two to move in.

“Well, we’ll leave you guys to unpack. Cathy will call you down for dinner I’m sure.” The three left the room.

The two new women in the house began to unpack, choosing to distract themselves from what was really happening. Jane pulled out one of the many notes Catherine had written her back in high school and read over it all while grinning ear to ear.

“What do you have there? Love note from him?”

“Oh please,” Jane scoffed. “No, a note from Phillips’ class.”

“Oh my god.” The older woman snatched the letter from Jane’s hands and gave it a quick glance. “You kept this?”

“All of them. That’s actually why Henry and I were fighting.” Her face fell. “We got into a fight about I don't even know what, and I walked out of the room and pulled that out because it always makes me laugh. He accused me of being in love with you and cheating on him.”

“But you’re-”

“Lina, I would’ve thought you would know by now I’m not straight.”

“I-”

“Anyway, he told me if I was in love with you, I could never have you because I’m worthless. He said he was the only person foolish enough to take me under his wing. And uh, you know what happened from there,” her voice shook and the river of tears flowed freely. “Sorry, I know we were trying to stay happy today. I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

“No, don’t you apologize. It’s perfectly okay. Why don’t we take a little break and do something else. Take a nap maybe?”

“That actually sounds pretty nice. We could stay in here and watch some television? If sleep happens, it happens.” Jane began to lay down on the bed before patting the spot next to her.

“Whatever you want to watch is fine,” Jane yawned as she curled up next to her friend and fell asleep.

After a few minutes of watching the blonde sleep, Catherine slowly stood and began to unpack more things as quietly as she could. While she was unpacking, she couldn’t help shake what Jane had told her.

Jane isn’t straight. Was there really a possibility that the two could live a happy life together as a couple once Henry was taken care of?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Cathy knocked on the door quietly.

“Hey. Just came to check on you two and let you know dinner is ready. The four of us try to have dinner together at least once a week, and you two are more than welcome to join in.”

“Jane’s actually asleep right now, but I’ll try to see if she wants any food. Thank you so much mija.”

“Anything for you and your girlfriend,” Cathy teased, knowing about the long time crush her older cousin had on the blonde sleeping. Catherine stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

“Cathy! Not now. At least not for a while. She’s got some things to sort out first.”

“Oh! Is Catalina finally going to-”

“I’m not sure. Not for a while, if I do.”

“What happened anyway?”

“That’s not my place to tell you. Just know that right now, it’s not good. I’m sure she’ll tell you all as she gets comfortable. Just don’t push it okay querida? And please tell the others not to press. The poor woman’s been through enough in the past few days.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll do my best to get the other girls to listen.” Cathy turned on her heel and made her way back downstairs where the rest of the girls were waiting. Catherine opened the door back open and went to wake the blonde.

“Jane?” she shook the sleeping figure gently. “Cathy just came and told me dinner was ready. Are you hungry?”

“Food?” Jane mumbled.

Catherine laughed, “Yes love. Food. Cathy’s quite the cook too if I can remember.”

“Thank you,” she sighed happily as she stretched.

“Don’t thank me. Cath made it.”

“No, thank you. For everything. I can’t ever repay you for literally saving my life.”

“You know I would do anything for you, and you know I meant everything I said in all those notes Janey. Every word in there is true to this day.” Jane blushed deeply and nodded.

“I-” her stomach growled.

“Why don’t we go get some food in you?”

“That sounds great actually.” The two made their way downstairs and became acquainted with their new housemates.

“So,” Jane sighed after about an hour of small talk. “I guess you’re all wondering why we’re here.”

“Well yeah!” Anne exclaimed. “But Cath told us we weren’t allowed to ask.”

“Might as well just dive right into it I guess.”

“If you aren't comfortable with it, you don’t have to tell us anything Jane,” Kat tried. She figured this was something that would be hard to talk about. The young woman knew this especially given what she had gone through earlier in life.

“No it’s alright. I kind of owe it to all of you.”

“You don’t owe us anything you don’t want to share Jane. We’ll all be fine knowing as little or as much as you want us to know, and you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you need. This is my house after all,” Cathy chimed in.

“It might be good to get this off my chest,” the blonde insisted. “I was engaged to this guy Henry. We had been together for 12 years. The other day, it all kind of hit the fan. He uh-” Jane rolled up her sleeves to reveal many bruises. She then lifted up her shirt slightly. “-did this. Catherine kind of saved me.”

The four girls who had just met the blonde were in shock. How could someone hurt what they could sense was one of the kindest women to walk the planet?

“That’s enough about me though. How did you guys meet?”

“I’m Pinky’s cousin.” Anne grinned at the nickname Katherine hated so much.

“Anna and I were in an English class together in high school. She was struggling a little, so I helped her out. Turns out, she’s kind of cool,” Cathy laughed. “We ended up going to the same college. I started working at the coffee shop on campus, and Anne came in at least two times during my shift everyday without fail. We kinda just became friends through that alone.”

“I’m Pinky’s cousin.” Anne grinned as she called Katherine by the nickname she hated so much.

“That is unfortunately true,” Kat sighed. “And I met Anna because some jackass wouldn’t leave me alone on campus, and she stepped in and saved me.”

“We all kind of just started hanging out, and now here we are just all living together.”

“We’re not really sure how it happened. It just kind of did,” Anne chuckled.

Meanwhile, Thomas heard someone at his house at roughly three in the morning. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, he laid back down.

“Thomas! It’s me!” He heard Henry. He ran downstairs before Henry could yell anything else and disturb his neighbors.

“Henry?” Thomas faced a blond man. “What the hell man?”

“That bitch called the cops on me. I need help.”

“Dude, Jane-” Thomas felt a fist come into contact with his face.

“No, she’s a fucking bitch, and if you help her, I’ll call the cops on your ass, and then we’re both going to rot in prison. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Henry snarled through gritted teeth.

“Asshole,” Thomas muttered. “What do you need?”

“A fake ID, disposable cell,” Henry thought for a second. “Make that two. You’ll need one too. Colored contacts. I have an idea.” Henry explained his idea to Thomas who quickly agreed in order to cover himself.

“In a few days, I’ll go back. If I go too soon, they’ll figure it out. You’ve gotta go down now though and watch them for the next couple days. Don't let Jane leave your sight, but don’t get caught. You got it?” Thomas nodded.

[mydarlingklaus]

Meeting the Mikaelsons:

So, this is my first time ever writing a main pairing that wasn’t Klaroline. I’m loving sizzie and hope I did them justice. There will be a part 2 soon. I’m obviously a KC shipper and have made it clear that, to me, they are Lizzie’s family. If that’s not your flavor then you do not have to read. Leave reviews here on my ff.net account please! Enjoy (:

Summary: After insisting that Sebastian accompany her for Christmas break, Lizzie and Sebastian hit the road to New Orleans to spend the holiday with her family and meeting them for the first time...including Klaus.

"Explain to me again how the Klaus Mikaelson is your father when I was under the impression the worthless mortal with the horrid beard held that title?" Sebastian wondered from the passenger seat of the camaro Lizzie was struggling to drive.

He cringed at her aggressively pulling at the stick shift like a mad woman.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive?" He asked.

"Why would I do that?"

Sebastian sighed. "I adore your dominance as much as the next but you command this vessel like a drunken pirate."

Still looking forward, her thick eyebrows raised defensively.

Lizzie scoffed. "Please like I'm going to let a guy who's never driven in his life lecture me on driving tactics, or crash my only source of transportation. No thank you."

The corners of his lips twitched up in a half smile. "Touché but, I think you know I'm a rather fast learner."

His hand raising to brush his knuckles against her soft and pink cheek.

Lizzie could already feel herself wanting to succumb to his talents of distraction.

Pulling away from his tempting touch with a flip of her hair. "Pass."

He shook his head with a soft laugh.

"First of all, that 'worthless mortal' you speak of is my father and I would appreciate it if you didn't insult him right in front of me. Even if you're right about the shaggy dog on his face..."

Lizzie mumbled, bringing a smirk to his lips.

"And second of all, Klaus isn't my dad...well technically. He's dating my mom who's he's loved for like, ever, and he's been in me and Josie's lives since we were kids. He's like a step dad, I guess. It's complicated. As you can tell by now my life isn't exactly conventional." Lizzie explained.

He nodded, staring aimlessly outside of the car window.

"Mmm I see, but I assume you two are quite close?" He assumed. "Given how persistent you were for me to accompany you on this little field trip, all the way to New Orleans, just to get his blessing. I must be special."

The blonde witch pulled her eyes from the road to flash the smirking vampire a harsh death glare at his teasing tone.

-Damn him.

After discovering the truth about Sebastian's past and initial reason for seeking her out in the beginning of the semester, Lizzie was unsure where she stood with him. Of course her attraction didn't falter, but her trust did. With him not—yet—being a student at the boarding school, avoiding him was rather easy until one day when he ambushed her during lunch time. Not wanting to draw any attention to her humiliation, Lizzie insisted they drive off campus to hear any bullshit excuse he could charmingly muster.

There were yells, bickering, name-calling and aneurysm spells that soon resulted in the screaming match transforming to bodies rubbing against each others in a battle of tongues and hateful lust. After consummating the relationship on the hood of her car, both were calm enough to have an actual conversation with one another about the situation.

Lizzie explained where majority of her anger stemmed from—how her mental stability has been her priority lately, and his mind games were cruel to the process. He made her feel she was crazy. Sincerely, Sebastian was apologetic about the entire ordeal.

Yes, his initial lure to the young witch was under selfish pretenses but he quickly—genuinely—began falling for her; as she fell for him.

They were a "bloody mess", as Sebastian said. Agreeing to earn back her trust and acceptance before anymore could happen between them.

One month later...

Not only was Sebastian now a new student at the Salvatore Boarding School—heeding to Alaric's request to keep an eye on him—but his relationship with Lizzie progressed as well.

In light of their new status as a couple, it didn't take long for Klaus to catch wind of the news all the way in New Orleans.

Caroline swore she wasn't the one who told him.

The hybrid knew Lizzie was interested in a new boy in town during one of his previous Mystic Falls visits in the beginning of the semester.

But the two never met.

Klaus was like a father to Lizzie. They were extremely close, they talked almost everyday about everything, but her love life was the only aspect of her life she didn't want to share with him. He wasn't particularly keen on any of the girls dating sheets—nearly scared Landon to death. But finding out one of them was with a vampire of all creatures, especially one as old as him threw his defenses in overdrive.

Despite them not dating too long, Lizzie really liked Sebastian and wanted Klaus and Caroline to like him too. Which triggered the idea of proposing that he spend Christmas break with her and her family in New Orleans.

Caroline flew out with Hope and Josie the night before via Klaus's private jet, while Lizzie insisted on driving; to delay the inevitable tension upon their arrival.

Lizzie forced her attention back on the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly at his arrogant, yet accurate, assumption.

Despite them being in a loving and committed relationship, their dynamic was consumed with teasing and playful bickering to no end. Constantly trying to get a rise out of each other, which usually resulted in coaxing out their pent up desires.

Her eyes rolled dramatically. "Deflate your ego by a ton, teen Dracula." She scoffed. "I invited you solely because I know you have nowhere else to go for the holidays and wouldn't want to freeze your ass off in a Mystic Falls winter."

Sebastian intently stared as she continued.

"Now, me being the charitable person I am, decided to contribute to the season of giving by helping you out. I'll be happy to leave you on the side of the road so the villagers can have their way with you instead." She said with a beaming grin.

Sebastian threw his head back in laughter. He was convinced Lizzie underestimates just how much she amused him.

"And there it is...that natural fire that I love so dearly." Turning his head on the back of the seat to gaze at the exceptional beauty beside him.

She failed to hide her smile and blush, grateful to be driving to avoid his endearing stare that always turned her into mush.

Shaking her head while briefly trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. "Shut up."

His leftover chuckles dissipated over the course of the ride. It had been 30 minutes since their last conversation in the car, sparking Sebastian's suspicions. Lizzie was many things but a mute wasn't one of them, and she barely said anything to him besides a few words here and there.

Twirling the daylight ring she made him between his fingers as he observed her tense posture, trembling hands hands on the wheel and shallow breaths leaving her pink lips. His heightened vampire senses made him feel hers just as intensely.

It was driving him crazy.

"Are you alright?" Sebastian finally asked.

Lizzie blinked rapidly like she'd been dragged from a daze. "Yup. Never better."

Pressing his lips together, he spoke.

"Pull over."

She whipped her head to side and eyebrows furrowed. "What, why?"

"Pull over." He repeated with no further explanation.

"Absolutely not. We're already behind schedule and I'm not making us even more late just so you can dive your fangs into Bambi." She spat.

He growled under his breath. "For Christ's sake Elizabeth, can you for once not be stubborn and pull this bloody contraption over."

Not having much energy to fight, she eventually sighed and did as he asked.

Engine off with nothing but the slow breeze from the empty road to keep them company.

Sebastian unbuckled his seatbelt and turned in his seat to face the flustered blonde.

"What's wrong?"

She swallowed, fidgeting with her fingers to avoid his stare. "Nothing. Why would you think something is wrong?"

He shrugged. "Well, your knuckles nearly whitening from the death grip you possessed over that wheel. Your breaths are labored, body tense, face hard like stone..."

"Maybe I'm just sexually frustrated." She expressed.

The comment making him grin, briefly, before his face neutralized again in sincere concern.

"And you haven't said a word to me in half an hour, not even to tell me to stop messing with the radio buttons."

That actually did grind her nerves when he was examining the radio like a rocket ship—little did she know it was his attempt at getting her attention.

His finger gently pulled her chin forward until she was finally looking at him. Her usual fiery blue now a calm nonexistent flame. Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear to reveal more of her face as his palm softly cuffed one cheek. Her tension quickly diminished, relaxing into the seat and his light touch.

The sweet affection made her stomach tie into a million knots.

"Talk to me." He softly pleaded.

It was still weird for Lizzie to be so vulnerable with someone who wasn't her family.

Lizzie hated being vulnerable. She hated asking for help or showing her weaknesses. It wasn't until lately she began managing her emotions, and Sebastian was an expert at drawing them out of her. Even with Sebastian's reassurance and acceptance, exposing her emotions was a long and tiring battle that she was always losing.

She didn't want to lose with him.

The blonde witch nervously licked her lips, conceding with a sigh. "Okay, I'm just...nervous, about all of this. More than I thought I'd be."

Sebastian's expression demonstrating he already suspected that was the reason.

"This is kinda a big deal for me. I've never really had boyfriends per say, so the whole introducing a guy to my family thing has never happened before. And I definitely never let anyone meet Klaus unless they had a death wish or something and—"

His finger suddenly resting on her lip paused her rant.

"I don't think I've ever mentioned how charming your rambling episodes are." His smile deepened.

Lizzie rolled her eyes grinning. "It's not charming it's annoying. But I can't help it when I'm nervous, I have a serious case of word vomit. Another pesky trait I inherited from my dear mom, along with the tendency to fall for old as dirt vampires."

Sebastian chuckled, removing his hand from her face so she could continue.

She licked her lips again. "I like you, and that wasn't easy for me to admit so don't even think about using it against me." Pointing her finger at him sternly.

His eyes narrowed. "Why would I do that?"

"Wouldn't be the first time you use my vulnerability for your own gain, and you wouldn't be the only one..." She muttered.

His jaw clenched.

He could feel his blood boiling, erupting at the thought of someone taking advantage of her. Desiring to slaughter every last one of them. Made him feel sick that he was one of those grotesque people as well.

No time would be enough for him to make that up to her.

He decided not to defend himself, knowing he once did hurt her and had to live with that, and instead let her finish her thoughts.

"But that's all in the past now, and after much groveling I've forgiven you. We have a good thing going right now. It's real this time, and scary and amazing but sometimes I feel like I'm rushing into things, because I'm afraid it won't last. A lot of things in my life have been temporary, especially in the romance department."

Sebastian was as furious as he was relieved that no other boy has experienced Lizzie the way he has. But furious at how they made her doubt herself and deemed her as not good enough for them.

"I'm not saying I want to marry you or anything but, I'm in no rush for this to to be over either. And I'm scared that we'll take this huge leap only for it not to last, or I scare you off when you discover all of my many shattered pieces." She concluded.

Sebastian's eyes softened into a light blue as he allowed her fears to sink in and realizing he shared similar ones. He has known nothing but death and darkness for centuries. The last girl he loved died in front of his eyes before he met his own fate.

What he and Lizzie had was just as new and scary for him as well.

He hummed. "I think we've established that we're both rather broken, in our own ways. You're definitely something I wasn't expecting either, Elizabeth and quite ominous with how quickly you captured my heart."

She cocked her head to the side in disbelief. "I'm the complete opposite of ominous. Are you really using middle ages pick up lines on me when I'm trying to be serious?"

He smirked moving closer towards her face. "I assure you there's nothing, how do you say it, 'cheesy', about what I'm saying. You have to know I mean every word."

She did.

Her breath hitched and heart rate sped to full capacity.

"It's terrifying how much you make me feel. So demanding and passionately. How much you intrigued me even when we first met, on that fateful day in the Old Mill, or how quickly you made me want more when I knew I shouldn't."

Sebastian could feel his throat tightening from all the bottled up emotions forming.

He cleared his throat. "After what happened with Casandra, I closed my heart and sights to finding love and everything in between. I didn't think I would ever find that deep of a connection with anyone again. Hell, I didn't know if I was ever going to have another opportunity to even try but, then I found you Elizabeth Saltzman. The radiant ray of a chaotic sunshine." His smile stretched his face brightly.

Lizzie's was sure he could hear her pounding heart ready to explode out her chest.

"And believe me I never thought in my lifetime I would ever fancy, let alone form any sort of relationship, with the daughter of the most dangerous and ruthless creature to ever exist." He added with a slight laugh. "But I did, and have no regrets about it."

Both their hands hesitantly joined at the console between them. Lizzie eyes were on Sebastian while his were examining their now interlocked fingers. Studying the display of affection like it was a foreign concept.

He wasn't the easiest person to read but she could sense how overwhelmed he was experiencing such intimacy; she felt it too.

Rubbing his lips together, still looking down he finally spoke.

"I—I like us, as well." He said in almost a whisper when finally looking back up to her stunned face. Tears plucking at the corners of her eyes but never falling.

"This relationship is scary for me too, not even because I haven't exactly dated anyone in the last few centuries. It's different, strange even, but good—stable." He mumbled the last word.

"I want this to last until it can't anymore. I want to adapt to your world the best I can. And as truly terrifying as meeting your entire family is I will gladly walk through those flames, as long as you're there walking beside me." He declared with a widened smile.

Somehow he always knew what to say.

Lizzie subtly sniffled, shaking her head her head as her eyes danced between his and his inviting lips. "You're so damn cheesy."

Not giving him an opportunity to reply for her lips were already molding against his. Initially caught off guard, Sebastian didn't reciprocate but then quickly responded to the kiss just as eagerly—swiftly cradling her face between his two soft palms. Her hand on his chest. Wanting to keep her as close as possible, as if she'd even think about leaving. Their tongues sweeping against one another's passionately. They groaned when their bodies collided with the console between their seats that kept them from touching.

Softly giggling into another kiss, not breaking the oral embrace as Sebastian assisted her in gracefully climbing over to the passenger side so she was straddling his lap. She adjusted her body atop his—painfully torturing his already hardened desire while throwing her jacket in the backseat. His thumb caressed her hot cheek as he swept her hair out her face, never wanting the view to change. Wanting the angelic glow of her face to be the first and last thing branded in his memory. His stare radiating unexpected warmth down her body. He had to have known what he was stirring inside of her...

The way he looked at her, so lovingly and adoringly it felt unreal. No guy ever looked at her like she was their whole world. Sebastian knew of her past, her struggles and weaknesses and only tried his hardest to adore her scars all the same. He made her feel like more than herself.

She wasn't 'crazy Lizzie' or 'witch Lizzie' or 'the broken one' when with Sebastian. She was just her: a curious girl falling hard for an extraordinary guy.

Bending her head down Lizzie captured his lips again, instantly licking her tongue inside his mouth to deepen the already passionate kiss. Her arms securely wrapped around his neck while his were around her waist. Squeezing her denim covered hips delightfully while subtly grinding their hips into each other's. Both moaning and smiling against each other's lips shamelessly, as if they didn't have somewhere to be.

-Oh, right...

With a final but lasting peck, the young blonde reluctantly pulled away leaning her elbows on his shoulders. Rubbing her nose against his cutely before sighing in defeat.

"As tempting as indulging in more very public fornication is, we really need to get back on the road. We're already an hour behind the schedule I gave my parents and knowing Klaus, he's going to send out a hybrid search party if we're not there soon." She half joked.

Sebastian lazily grinned, kissing her lips one last time. "I suppose you're right. That would make a terrible first impression." He agreed, caressing her arms in hesitation.

There was another worry eating at him. While they were already being honest about everything, he felt no need to rep it to himself.

"What if he doesn't like me, or your mother and mortal father don't? What happens if your family doesn't approve of us being together, given that I am a few centuries older than you?" He somberly asked.

Lizzie's eyebrows furrowed.

She actually never gave much thought to the possibility of Sebastian not being approved by her parents. Caroline was usually the most open minded but Alaric and Klaus were a different story.

Alaric asked questions then dismissed while Klaus simply dismissed. The one thing the bickering men agreed on was the safety of the girls, including if they were old enough to start dating.

The worried expression broke as much as warmed Lizzie's heart. Sebastian was like an open book but mystery all at once; a complete contradiction. He never feared showing how he felt about her. Seeing him show how much he valued their relationship and afraid to lose all the progress they made.

She kissed him again, softly yet effectively. He could feel her reassurance in this one simple kiss, diminishing all his doubts and worries.

Pulling away with an infectious smile. "No matter what they think about you, it doesn't change anything. You can't get rid of me that easily." She claimed with teasing smile that matched his.

Her palm brushing over his sharp jaw calming his erratic nerves. There was a possibility this weekend could be a disaster, but what she knew for sure was how she felt about him and vice versa. Her family—not even Klaus—could take this happiness away from her.

Pecking her lips, cheek, and nose a few more times, causing the warmest blush and smile to appear, he nodded. "Alright. Then we should get back on the road to not waste anymore of our newfound courage."

Sebastian was puzzled when the blonde halted his attempt of helping her back into her seat. Brushing her pelvis against his suggestively and faces inches from each other's. He could practically taste her breath against his lips. His hands still secure on her hips, feeling like if he moved then any further they wouldn't be leaving this side of the road anytime soon.

"Elizabeth..."

"Hmm?" She hummed, brushing her fingers through his dark brown hair.

He smirked. "Didn't you say we should get going soon?"

The mischievous glint in her eye amused him immensely.

Lizzie innocently shrugged. "Mhm, soon as in not right this second. Soon as in, after indulging in a few more minutes of an impromptu make-out session with my hot boyfriend before I'm forced to pretend you've never seen me naked."

Sebastian's laugh was loud, genuine and contagious.

Their laughter only muffled by their lips meeting again in a passionate frenzy—neither one any rush to leave anytime soon.

[neeterloveschenford]

Since I have been doing pretty much nothing but reading fanfic this week, it’s gotten me thinking about what I’d like to see happen in season 3. I am doing my best to not get my hopes up for anything since we’ve got a year long hiatus to get through. But there are certain things that would just tickle me pink, so I’m gonna get it out into the universe. Who knows? Maybe good vibes will get to the writers and some of this will actually happen! So here we go!

 CAM said that there would be a time jump. I think this would actually be a good thing. First off, it would allow for a Forlex romance without having it drag out all season. I am most definitely not a Forlex shipper. I like Forrest and am glad that Alex will get to have a nice fun easy breezy romance. But, I don’t want it to drag out like M!luca did. If we do a time jump we could have a short 4-5 episode relationship. And I want it to end on good terms. Perhaps Forrest finishes his book and decides to go home (wherever that might be.) Alex being in the military would automatically not be able to go with him. And in my perfect dream world Forrest would  be smart enough to realize that there is a certain cosmic connection between Alex and a certain cowboy. I’d love for them to have a fond farewell where Forrest tells Alex that maybe it’s time he and Michael figure out how to be together. Because in the meantime, while Forlex is a thing, Michael is working on himself. During the time jump Michael faces some hard truths. He realizes that he has been loved all along. I’d love to see a close relationship between him and Sanders. Also, I’d love to see more of Michael and Isobel. Their relationship has always been one of my favorite dynamics. Wouldn’t hurt to see progress in his friendship with Max. I would be over the moon to see them as close as they were in the season 1 flashbacks. More pod squad 2021 please.

After the ending of Forlex (and sorry if you’re a Forlex shipper. I just can’t conceive of them lasting very long.) I want to see real progress on the Malex friendship front. Whatever the new mystery is, I want them to investigate together. I want late night research that ends in eating take out from the Crashdown together. I want Michael to talk about his childhood. I want Alex to talk about his Mom. I want them to go investigating and have to hide in a tiny closet because someone is coming. (don’t @ me, it’s one of my favorite tropes)  I want all kinds of sexual tension, longing looks when they think the other won’t notice, casual touches that make everyone else roll their eyes. I want them to grow so close that them coming together is inevitable. And then some life-or-death situation makes them admit how much they really love each other. (Season 3′s our year y’all. I just know it.)

In other non-Malex related news, I would like them to address the economic impact of covid. I don’t want a season long story about it. I think it would be best if they pick up when things are opening back up and kinda gloss over the re-opening debacle we’ve actually got. I get enough of this nonsense everyday. But what would interest me is how did the Crashdown and Wild Pony fair. I’d love to see Rosa back from rehab helping Arturo with curbside pick-up and delivery. I think they’d be able to at least hold on and keep things afloat. But what about Maria? She would have to close the Pony during the worst of it. Since last season we saw how she was having to hustle to keep the Pony out of the red and still pay for Mimi being in Sunset Mesa, I know she’d be struggling. So how would she make money? What kind of hustles would she be able to do during a pandemic? I think this would be interesting and would give Maria a great storyline outside of Michael. Isobel could be involved in helping her out. I want to see their relationship grow. I think the main reason Mimi and her grandmother had the dementia was because they never learned how to control their powers. Isobel could help train Maria. And then we would get to see them become family. This would please me.

As for Echo, I’d like to see both Max and Liz have a storyline that didn’t revolve around each other. They need to take some time away from each other to work on themselves just like Malex does. I think they need to realize that they were both at fault for their relationship failing. Max already has a built-in story in dealing with Mr. Jones. (That dude creeps me out. not gonna lie.) I want them to delve more into the alien mythology. And Liz will definitely have to face some consequences of her mad scientist research. The only thing I found interesting about Steph last season was how it set up Liz being found out when she gave her her miracle cure. Liz is going to have to scramble to hide her discoveries. Should be interesting.

And finally, some random things I’d like to see. More friendships!! I want to see more of Kyle and Alex. We got so little of them together in season 2. It was shameful. I want to see them hanging out, teasing each other, giving each other relationship advice. And can we please get some interactions with Liz, Maria, and Alex? we got one 20 second scene last time. It is a total disgrace and did nothing to honor the OG series. Their friendship was one of the best parts of the OG. I need more. How bout some Rosa and Maria? That would also make sense since Maria visited her grave once a month for ten years! I know we can’t have tons of scenes since we only have 13 episodes and there has to be time given to the storylines, but still give us a bone this year! Also can we FINALLY get some info on the Alighting? How bout Deep Sky? I was so annoyed by how things would be introduced and then dropped. Let’s tie up some loose ends please. I’m excited for Isobel’s new love interest. But I’m gonna hold out hope for her and Greg. They would be so cute together. I wouldn’t mind some Kyle and Jenna romance either. 

So those are my most pressing hopes and dreams for next season. Will any of it come to pass? Who knows. But I am more optimistic than I was a couple of weeks ago. Hopefully Chris will streamline things and get us back on track. We can dream can’t we?!?

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 6: Mask

LoveBlock

Mature / A/B/O Dynamics, Reality Show AU / Destiel / 2,735 words (Incomplete)

Read on AO3 

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

Week 1

Castiel Novak tugged at the starched collar of his shirt, shifting from foot to foot in too-tight shoes. It was customary that the Alpha wore a tuxedo to the initial meeting though he wished that he’d insisted on that changing as well. The network had wanted something big for the fifth season of LoveBlock, something different. When Castiel got the call that he was one of the finalists chosen to be that year’s Alpha, he’d been understandably confused given that he’d not entered.

Change #1: Alphas were nominated by family or friends. Thanks, Gabriel.

Castiel did everything he could to throw the interview. He was gruff, unsmiling, and showed up with bedhead wearing the hideous trench coat their grandmother gave him when he’d gone off to college. He went out of his way to be cantankerous and rude, refusing to answer some questions and providing terrible answers to others.

Change #2: The chosen Alpha was quiet, withdrawn, and definitely not interested in finding their true mate. One might even call him an asshole.

In the end, Castiel had agreed to participate for two reasons and two reasons only. Gabriel would be given a huge promotion based on the fact that he’d convinced someone with no desire to be on the show to be their grumpy, jerk of an Alpha for the season, thus finally getting him out of Castiel’s condo. And the other…

Change #3: Contestants could reject the Alpha meaning any contestant that dropped out before Hometown week would be competing on a new network show, EscapePlan, to win $50,000. If the Alpha made it to the finale with any contestants left, he and his chosen mate would both win $100,000

“Stop fidgeting.” Gabriel nudged Castiel in such a way that the point of his elbow rolled painfully over the bone in his bicep, a practiced move he’d perfected when they were children.

Castiel flinched away but stood straighter. “My feet hurt. Why does the Alpha have to be in formal dress? The other contestants have to show their personalities not just with their masks but their clothes too. Why-“

“Shhh, my boss is coming!” Gabriel muttered out of the side of his mouth before stepping forward and extending his hand. “Mr. Shurley! So glad you could make it!”

Chuck Shurley gave a small, friendly wave in lieu of shaking Gabriel’s hand, and Gabe dropped it cringing. “Sorry, no offense man I just don’t shake hands. Nothing personal, promise.”

“No no, sorry I uh, forgot.” Gabe scratched his ear before he turned abruptly to Castiel. “You remember my brother.”

“Yes, of course. I liked the promos you did. They were very controversial. Exactly what we were looking for.” Chuck gave Castiel a nod. Castiel pressed his lips together in a caricature of a smile, but his disdain was evident. Chuck just grinned. “Gonna be a good season.” He looked over his shoulder at the commotion as Fergus Crowley moved towards them.

“Gents,” he said by way of greeting. “Chuck,” he added with a smirk, and Chuck gave a rueful smile in return.

“Glad to have you back, Crowley.” Chuck’s tone implied he was not remotely glad to have Crowley back.

“Glad you agreed to my demands during contract negotiations.” Crowley beamed with a smarmy grin.

Castiel looked to Gabriel who’s lips were puckered, eyes rolling up to look at the palm trees hanging over where they stood at the edge of the beach house’s wide circular drive. That was the face Gabe made when he was trying not to laugh. Castiel began to open his mouth to ask when he received another sharp jab to his upper arm.

“Let’s get started shall we?” Gabe gestured towards the space to the left where Castiel assumed visitors would park but was now lit and prepped for Crowley’s opening remarks before the cattle call began.

How do we fall in love? Do we see someone across the room, strike up a conversation, and the rest is history? Do we catch a whiff of a tantalizing or homey scent and follow the instincts of our secondary gender all the way to mating? Or is it possible to fall in love without seeing someone’s face? Without catching their scent?

For the last four seasons, we’ve been asking this question and so followed four alphas on the journey to true love. We watched them try and see past the contestants’ masks, week after week. We saw scent bonds break emotional bonds once the blockers came off. And we cheered when our Alpha looked into the face of his or her potential One True Mate.

This year, we do it again with an entirely new set of rules and an Alpha as you’ve never seen one. Welcome to LoveBlock.

#

The first limousine slithered up the drive toward Castiel, and he stood stock-still, hands crossed in front of himself. Gabriel had said it made him look like security and not the show’s Alpha, so Castiel had decided that would be how he would stand for the rest of his life. He did his best to ignore the camera to his left and the six or so people behind it as well as the camera to the right and its gaggle of crew meant to capture the contestants as he rushed over to help the contestant climb out of the limo.

Castiel stayed put, the moment stretching, and finally, the door opened, and what looked like the head of a wolf peeked out. “Um.”

“Come on then,” Castiel unclasped his hands to motion them forward, and he could hear the person give a stuttered, o-o-oh…, before a motorcycle boot appeared out the door. A slender woman in a leather jacket and jeans with a frighteningly furry mask walked over to him.

Castiel squinted his eyes. “You’re a horror fan.”

He felt the woman’s surprise more than saw it because well, obviously, and her voice was breathless when she asked, “How did you know?”

Castiel fought the urge to roll his eyes, but his tone made his disdain clear. “Lucky guess.”

The woman hugged him anyway and went off to her first impression interview.

Hannah, Office Assistant, Beta

“Wow, they weren’t kidding when they said this Alpha was different! I mean still handsome,” Hannah paused, to tip her head from side to side, shifting the wolf-head mask in her lap, “which won’t matter in the end I know, I know. But if the guy is gonna be grumpy to start?” Hannah’s blue eyes widened emphatically as she pushed out her lower lip and her huff made her dark bangs flutter. “It’s nice that’s he’s something to look at, you know?”

And so it went for three more contestants. April, a plain brunette Beta who wore safety goggles and a medical mask, was deeply unimpressed that Castiel didn’t understand that she was a dental hygienist from her face coverings. Inias, a male Omega in a suit and the plain, white drama mask they used for group dates before The Scenting, told Castiel he’d have to work to get to know him. Castiel immediately decided he was going home that night. Then Kevin, an Omega college student wearing a giant paper mâché pie on his head, but instead of the typical latticed crust, it contained the numbers 3.14 because he liked math as well as desserts.

There was a bit of a delay after the fifth contestant exited the limo in an evening gown, fiery red hair pulled into an elegant up-do, wearing a printed paper mask with Crowley’s face on it.

“Mother!”

The woman huffed and halted barely two steps out of the limo. “Fergus, you’ve ruined the take! D’you want me to do it again?”

Castiel was intrigued by her Scottish burr as well as the fact that Gabriel had managed to get Fergus Crowley’s mother to compete on the show her son hosted and that was notorious for hookups with  at least one group nude exhibition a season. That had to be some kind of miracle from the TV gods. Gabe did say he felt like this season had been blessed.

Once the yelling stopped, and Rowena, mother of one, Beta sashayed off to do her interview, the limo returned with another contestant. Word must have gotten out that he wasn’t opening the door for anyone, so this time, there was no wait, the door swinging open, and a hand curled over the top of the car while a dusty boot hit the ground. A fit young man pulled himself out, wearing a ripped pair of jeans and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt with a green and black plaid flannel over it, a welding mask covering his face. Castiel nearly rolled his eyes again as the man strode forward, hand extended.

“Hey man, D-”

Castiel cut him off as he clasped his hand tight, feeling the roughness of his palm, callouses on the fingertips. “You’re an artist.”

The welding mask tipped to the side, the man’s body stiffening before his grip became crushing, a throaty chuckle echoing from behind the metal. “Not even close. Mechanic.” Castiel winced as his hand was pumped vigorously. “Dean Winchester. Nice to meet ya.”

Castiel looked off-camera to Gabe. “I thought you said you weren’t bringing in Alphas this year.” His attention returned to Dean as he laughed harder this time.

“Wrong again. Man, this is gonna be fun.” Castiel jumped as one large hand clapped hard against his sternum twice before Dean began to walk away.

Castiel turned to watch him go, taking in his bow-legged gait as he entered the house to go do his first impression interview.

Dean was directed to a stool in the entryway situated in front of a camera and surrounded by lights. He plopped down, heaving a sigh as he flipped up his welding mask before pulling it off his head. He tried his best to ignore the murmurs from the women behind the camera as he dropped it to the floor with one hand, patting his hair down with the other. When he looked up, he could see everyone behind the camera had red eyes, except for the redheaded woman with the clipboard who looked annoyed.

“Sorry about them,” she muttered, jutting a thumb over her shoulder, and the Alphas blinked themselves back to brown or blue, “but in their defense I’m a Beta and a lesbian and woof your face is still pretty impressive.”

Dean managed to fight a blush as he gave a good-natured laugh. “It’s fine I get that a lot.” Dean shifted on his stool, situating his face into a calm, attentive expression, and waited for the Beta producer to look her fill.

“If you could start by stating your name, occupation and secondary gender for the graphics team. This is what will show at the bottom of the screen during your interviews.”

Dean gave a short nod. “I’m Dean Winchesteeeer…” He reached up to scratch at his ear. “Uh, mechanic.” He flicked up a hand and took a deep breath, sighing out, “Omega,” before letting his hand fall to his knee with a thump. It wasn’t enough to mask the unmistakable interested growls of the Alphas on the crew. The producer actually looked over her shoulder and glared at them.

“Go outside. All of you. Yes all of you the camera is stationary and already rolling I can turn it off when we’re done. Thank you. Byyyyyyye.”

Dean chuckled as the alpha cameraman and the other two, whatever they did, sulked away to the snack table. Dean let his amusement sit on his face as he looked back at the producer, who gave him a strained smile. “Sorry, again.”

“Not a problem. I figured I’d be just another piece of meat here anyway.” Dean gave an unaffected wave, and the producer frowned, marked something on her clipboard.

“I’m Charlie Bradbury-“

“Executive producer.” Dean nodded and stretched out a hand. “Nice to put a face to the name in the credits.”

Charlie shook his hand and gave him a surprised smile. “You watch the show?”

“Yeah!” Dean’s face scrunched as if to say, of course, I do, and Charlie tried to force back a laugh but only succeeded in choking herself. She knew the resulting grin he gave her was going to turn Alphas’ eyes red on couches across the country when this aired.

“So did you nominate yourself?”

Dean snorted. “No, no. I was completely content with this being my Thursday night guilty pleasure,” the guy actually licked his lips after he said it, and Charlie made a note to check if he’d done any acting. “My little brother actually nominated me. Said I need to find a nice Alpha and settle down.”

“That’s sweet.” Charlie jotted down, interview brother. “How old is your brother?”

“22,” Dean gave a casual shrug of his shoulder at Charlie’s questioning blink. “Yeah I know he’s also 6’4 so he’s really not that little but old habits die hard ya know? He’s in his first year at law school. He actually started watching the show his freshman year of college. It was one of those excuses to get everyone on the floor in the rec room and make friends.” Dean turned his head, squinting at the camera. “There may also have been a girl involved.”

Charlie let herself laugh this time. “But you also watch the show you said.”

Dean gave a nod. “Yeah, I mean he was in college and I didn’t understand half the shit… er, sorry.” Dean winced, and Charlie waved a hand before giving a sharp clap of her hands that made Dean jump.

“It’s so audio can find the cut faster. Makes a big jagged line in the file,” Charlie explained, and Dean’s eyebrows rose, lips twisting in an impressed expression. “Can you begin again at ‘I didn’t understand?’”

Dean cleared his throat and shifted on his stool again. “Uh yeah, um. I didn’t understand have the things he was talking about. I mean like I said I’m just a mechanic with a GED and a give em hell attitude.” He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes but grinned nonetheless. She was definitely going to be rooting for this guy. “But he went on and on about the show because, like I said,” Dean widened his eyes and muttered conspiratorially through closed teeth, “there may have been a girl involved,” He shook his head and smile. “So I started watching just to have something to talk about with him.” Dean rubbed his palms up and down his thighs a few times. “Well and to help the poor kid talk to the girl. He’s smart and an Alpha but man is he bad with the ladies.” Dean gave a smirk that morphed into a grin before he looked at the floor.

“So are you looking for your One True Mate?” Charlie felt a warm flutter in her chest as Dean lifted his head, green eyes wide and full lips parted in genuine surprise before a blush began to creep up his neck.

“Ah… you know…” Dean grimaced and hissed, giving the camera a side-eye. “I’m not sure they exist.” He gave a shrug. “I mean, that Alpha out there?” Dean jutted a thumb over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. “Not a bad looking dude. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.” Dean smirked again and chuckled. “But did my insides go gooey at the first whiff of his scent?” Dean scrunched his nose and shook his head.

Charlie smiled. “What did he smell like to you?”

Dean rolled his eyes before closing them and doing a slow-motion fist pump as he mouthed yes. “The first smell montage. Seriously,” Dean gestured with both hands splaying his fingers and then wiggling them excitedly. “It’s my favorite.”

He cleared his throat as Charlie laughed again.

“Uh…hmmmm.” He pursed his lips, looking up and to the right, and Charlie was convicted this guy had at least modeled before because he found the light instantly. His eyes tightened just enough to slant his expression into a sultry stare but let the green of his eyes stay visible. “Rain.” He gave a satisfied nod and looked back at her. “Or, really, a thunderstorm. That thick smell before the thunder and lightening show starts.”

He nodded again, a wistful smile pulling at his lips. “Which seems pretty appropriate given the circumstances.”

[cakesunflower]

Reach For You [Dad!Calum AU] Ch. 12

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

Chapter 12

THEY HAD TALKED. All night. Discussed what was going to happen with them, how they needed to be careful with the dynamic they wanted—how they wanted to be together. They were up until four in the morning, talking and talking and talking, figuring everything out. It was unreal to both of them that they were, essentially, back together—and not just for the sake of Luna, but because they wanted to be. Because after everything, they realized that what they felt for each other never went away, and that it was damn near impossible to feel that way for anyone else other than the person in front of them.

They talked about taking things slow, about not rushing into anything because it wasn’t just them involved—they had Luna to think about too. Confusing her in any way was the last thing they wanted to do, but they wanted this to work, more than anything. They wanted to be together, wanted each other, wanted this small family.

“So long as we put in the effort, I know we got this. Because I sure as hell am not letting you both go a second time.”

And once Calum had said that, he’d effectively gotten rid of almost all of Aspen’s worries. Slowly but surely, they’d get this. They’d make it work. She knew they would, and that level of confidence and reassurance made her feel better. Because being with Calum—it’s what she wanted. What she felt for him. . . That would never happen with anyone else.

It was almost dizzying, how quickly she felt as though her feelings for him came back. They talked all night, and the deeper their conversation got, the clearer it got that neither she nor Calum truly moved on from the other; neither had a relationship after the break up, mostly because Aspen was too occupied with Luna and just never was interested, and Calum was too hung up on her to consider anything but a hook up. Once they came to the realization that they only wanted the other, it was overwhelming how instant their feelings for the other came to the forefront. Neither was complaining, though.

When Aspen woke the next morning, she blinked tiredly at the sight of the brown eyes already looking at her. She blinked, leaning back slightly as she sleepily admired the sight of Calum so close, so flushed with sleep with full pink lips. He laid on his side facing her, curls falling across his forehead, and Aspen was kind of floored at how gorgeous he was. Calum’s lips quirked. “Think that was the best night’s sleep I had.”

His statement was accompanied with his hand sliding under Aspen’s shirt—being one of Calum’s black tees she borrowed—making her melt under the warm touch of his hand on her waist. He slid it to her back, pressing her closer to him, his piney, Calum scent taking over her.

Aspen smiled, lower lip pulled into her mouth as her fingers lazily played with the necklace he wore, the metal cool against her skin. “I forgot how cheesy you could be,” she hummed, the teasing tilt present in her sleepy voice.

Calum pouted, fingertips trailing up and down her back gently. His left arm rested on her pillow above her head, fingers lightly pushing back her dark hair from her forehead. “I think you mean sweet, not cheesy,” he huffed. “Cheesy is the omelet I’m gonna make you for breakfast.”

A pleasant warmth spread in her chest as Calum’s legs tangled with hers, her eyebrows raising. Thy were both wearing a pair of his pajamas, Calum letting her borrow some since it was a bit cold in his apartment. She was comfortable in his clothes, but nothing could beat the comfort and warmth his body provided. She grinned up at him, tilting her head back. “You mean a cheese and tomato omelet with scallions?” Calum’s grin widened and Aspen let out an airy laugh as her hand left his necklace to slide up his neck and to the back of his head, fingers threading through his curls. “You remember.”

It was a small detail, nothing too significant. A cheese omelet with tomatoes and scallions was her favorite breakfast to eat, but the fact that Calum actually remembered made Aspen’s heart flutter as she took in a breath. That after five years, an insignificant detail like that was something that still stuck to him.

Calum’s smile softened, feeling her foot trail up his calf over his pajamas, her front against his, and it was kind of unreal how he could see the fondness light up her green eyes. There was a lightness in his chest at the acknowledgment of him making her smile so prettily, just because he remembered one of her favorite meals. No matter the years between them and what’s happened, forgetting any aspect of Aspen was near impossible.

“Course I do,” he returned with a murmur, pressing his lips to her forehead. “There’s mango juice in the fridge for you, too.” Aspen let out a soft giggle as he reluctantly untangled himself from her, sitting up and grabbing his hoodie at the end of the bed to put it on. He ran his fingers through his messy curls, bending down to press another kiss to Aspen’s forehead before getting out of bed.

After using the bathroom, Calum left the room as Aspen laid remaining under the sheets, not quite ready to get up. Before going to the kitchen, Calum walked down the hall and quietly opened Luna’s bedroom door, peeking his head inside. His little one was still sound asleep, as was Duke, and Calum smiled to himself at the sight before shutting the door and going towards the kitchen.

There was a certain contentment that took over Calum as he prepared breakfast. He used his phone to play music off his jazz playlist, the songs at a low volume as to not to wake Luna, as he gathered the ingredients and began cooking, unable to keep the smile from upturning his lips. He worked mechanically, knowing what he needed to do to cook, but his thoughts were on the woman in his bedroom—a woman he didn’t think he would ever get back. It was surreal, having Aspen back, the fact still not settling in his mind.

Calum felt like he was light on his feet, knowing the smile on his face could be described as nothing but goofy, but damn it if he cared. He genuinely felt happy. And, he knew, there was still some shit to resolve with his mother, but he didn’t want to think about that. Not right now, when he was preparing breakfast for Luna and Aspen—he only wanted to think about them. Only wanted to focus on the serenity and bliss that was flooding his body with warmth as he finished the omelet and put it on a plate.

“Honestly, since when did you become such a chef?” Aspen’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts as she came up to his left side, cheek pressing against his bicep.

“Just somethin’ I picked up,” Calum answered truthfully right as the bread popped up from the toaster.

Aspen hummed, squeezing his arm. “Smells amazing,” she said, going to her toes and Calum automatically leaned his head down a bit towards her so she could press her lips to his cheek, his mouth quirking into a smile.

He told Aspen to dig right in as he prepared his own omelet, joining her at the table when she was halfway through her food. And they ate, in a silence disturbed only by the music still playing, comfortable and serene. Calum’s eyes kept lifting to look at the woman sitting across from him, trying to remind himself that he wasn’t dreaming, that this was reality and that so long as things went well, this was something he should get used to.

Aspen looked so at home, sitting across from him at the small round table, wearing his clothes and her hair tied back into a loose ponytail. It was scary how natural and right it seemed to be there, like this, and Calum for the first time acknowledged the small knot that twisted itself in the pit of his stomach. He was beyond happy, deliriously so, that he and Aspen were giving things another shot. That he was being given the chance to have a family with her and Luna the way he realized he desperately wanted.

But he was also scared. Despite knowing the truth of everything that’s happened, he was still scared of the thought of losing Aspen and Luna. It wasn’t Aspen’s fault, though; the second he acknowledged the seed of fear, he also came to the conclusion that he didn’t blame Aspen for it. He trusted her, he found himself realizing. She was apologetic over everything that happened, their conversation last night only emphasizing how she wanted the same things he did. He knew her leaving years ago hadn’t been voluntary. But he’d lost her once—and Calum didn’t want that to happen again.

“I can hear you thinking.” Calum blinked himself back into reality, gaze focusing on Aspen as she stared at him with a gentle yet pointed expression. She was done with her breakfast, putting down a near empty glass of mango juice. Folding her arms on the table, Aspen leaned forward a bit as she added, “What’s up, Cal?”

He wasn’t going to lie to her. Calum shrugged. “Just. . .” He let out a breath before he smiled, a mix between sheepish and accepting. “Just thinkin’ ’bout how I don’t wanna lose you and Luna. Not again.”

Aspen’s expression softened at that. Immediately, she understood what was running through Calum’s mind—it wasn’t difficult to figure out, given their situation. Slowly, she licked her lips before shifting her chair, bringing it closer to him to his right. Calum watched as Aspen’s hand came to rest on his arm, naturally pouty lips pursed before her green eyes met his. “I’m sorry I gave you reasons to have those kinds of fears and doubts,” she said genuinely, making Calum’s heart tug. Aspen leaned a bit closer, gaze never wavering. “But I promise you, we’re not going anywhere, not if I can help it.” She offered a smile. “Trust me when I say you’re stuck with us.”

Calum mirrored her breathless smile at that, letting out an airy chuckle before pressing his lips together and swallowing. Her green eyes that he couldn’t get enough of, that matched his beautiful daughter’s, were earnest and hopeful and Calum had no problem uttering the next words. “I do. Trust you, I mean. I do, angel.”

God, they had a whole conversation or two all night about their renewed relationship and how the amount of trust going in was exponential, especially on Calum’s part. Aspen felt beyond lucky and relieved that Calum wanted to give them another chance, felt her feelings for him soar each time he kissed her last night. But to hear him so honestly and easily say he trusted her—Aspen was surprised she didn’t burst into tears right then and there.

Fuck, she was pretty sure she loved him, was positive that she never stopped even after all these years of loneliness and hurt and resentment. She wanted to say it, but refrained.

Instead, she smiled, happy and real and face flushed pink, and Calum mirrored it before leaning in and giving her a quick peck on her lips—they’d just eaten eggs, after all.

A couple of hours later, around eleven thirty that morning, Calum glanced at the clock on the stereo system under the TV as he settled on the couch next to Aspen. “Should we wake her up?” he questioned with a raise of his brows.

Aspen snorted, using the remote to flick through the channels. “And deal with a cranky Luna monster? You’re on your own if you do that.”

Calum let out a chuckle at that, knowing full well that if Luna was woken up when she didn’t really have a reason to wake up then she would be even crankier than usual. He’d already dealt with that a couple of times—had no idea his little baby could be such a harsh four year old. “She gets that from you, you know,” he hummed with a smirk, arm going around Aspen’s shoulders to pull her in. It’s like he couldn’t stop needing her to be close. “Bitin’ people’s heads off for wakin’ you up.”

“Hey!” Huffing, Aspen nudged his side with her elbow as she grumbled in void annoyance, “Don’t you have to go to work?”

Calum snickered. “I own nightclubs, doll. The work day hasn’t started yet. I’m all yours until then.”

Aspen blew a raspberry. “Joy.”

But, really. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

                                                      *****

“Please. Say something.”

Calum’s jaw set, gaze on his hands interlocked in the space between his thighs where he sat. There was a silence in the hotel room he was in, sitting on a cushioned chair while his mother sat on the couch diagonal of him, and Calum couldn’t quite look at her. The tension hung heavily over them, nearly suffocating Calum’s lungs even as his mother’s voice disturbed the silence.

“I just don’t get it.” His voice was hoarse, quiet with absent thought. His throat worked, biting the inside of his lower lip briefly. “I just cannot understand how you could do that. How you could make Aspen leave and push her into hiding Luna from me and be prepared to pretend that never happened for the rest of your life.” Each word spiked his blood, effectively firing up his body and igniting the anger that was simmering underneath the surface. Calum finally looked up, sharp eyes meeting his mother’s own dark ones, as he ground out, “What kind of mother does something as fucked up as that?”

Joy pressed her lips together, refraining from chastising her son for his language, knowing this wasn’t the time. She took a breath. “I was only trying to do right by you—”

Calum couldn’t even let her finish, her sentence cut off with a loud, incredulous scoff from Calum as he looked away and rubbed his hand down his mouth, shoulders shaking with a humorless laugh. He couldn’t fucking believe her—was she being serious? “Do right by me?” Calum couldn’t keep sitting, he was on his feet pacing in front of the coffee table separating him and his mother. He stopped, eyebrows draw together perpetually. “By keeping my own daughter away from me? How does that make any sense to you, Mum? What kind of parent goes about and thinks, let me just hide my own child’s kid because it’ll benefit them?” He shook his head, the disbelief and anger and betrayal tensing his body. “I’m genuinely worried that the thought even existed in your head, never mind the fact that you actually went through with it.”

“I’m not the only one who had a part of this, Calum,” Joy said sharply, not at all fond of getting an earful from her son, despite the part of her that knew she deserved it. “Aspen is just as much at fault for this as I am.”

“No, she’s not,” Calum snapped, his tone harsh and unforgiving, causing Joy to blink at him in surprise. “It was fucking terrible of her to go through with it—trust me, she knows that and I didn’t let her forget for the past few months. But she’d always been insecure when it came to our relationship, knew people talked shit about her and knew that you were one of them.” The mere thought had Calum’s heart sinking, the guilt of not making it better for Aspen hitting him strongly. He should’ve done better. “She always worried about what other people thought—especially you. The fact that you encouraged and pushed her to leave me, to take our baby, is what hurts the fucking most. You played on Aspen’s vulnerability, used the fact that she was intimidated for this sick plan of yours. She’s gotten enough shit from me, cried to me about this more than enough times. So don’t turn this back on her. At the end of the day, it was you who did this to me.”

Each word was delivered sharply, unforgivingly as Calum ranted in a thick, taut tone that heavily displayed the anger coursing through his veins. But it had to be said, each and every word, but Calum still didn’t feel better. He knew, no matter how many times he yelled or ranted, he wouldn’ t feel okay; that moving on from a truth as bitter and horrific as this would not come easily, if at all.

Calum let out a breath, feeling his heart pounding against his ribs, shoulders dropping slightly and chin lifting. He felt overwhelmed with anger and grief over this whole situation, but there were no tears. Not yet, anyway.

Looking away, Calum clenched his jaw as he gazed at nothing in particular, before his lips parted and he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. His thoughts, while all revolving around the situation at hand, were many and all over the place, an invitation for a headache. Calum wasn’t even sure if he wanted to resolve anything with his mother, wondered if all he wanted to do was let out his frustration and leave without accepting some apology.

God. Calum couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t confused in the last few months.

Looking back at his mother, Calum felt a tightness in his chest at the sight of his mum’s glassy eyes, the words he spewed getting to her. But he ignored the tension, was firm on the fact that what he said was something she needed to hear. He licked his lips, sniffling despite the lack of tears. “You keep sayin’ you were only lookin’ out for me.” Calum gave a shake of his head. “But no mother would do to her kid what you did to me.”

“Calum,” Joy spoke up, her voice breathless and shaky as she stood to her feet and hastily moved around the coffee table to stand in front of him. Calum couldn’t bring himself to look at her, using his stature to his advantage as he kept his gaze straight ahead over her head, jaw tightening when he felt her hands take his. “Honey, I’m so sorry about everything.” She spoke in a watery voice, like she was about to cry, and the acknowledgment of that had Calum’s throat drying. “I crossed a line, I know that, and I’m so sorry. At the time I-I thought I was doing the right thing but obviously it was a terrible mistake. What I did to you, Aspen, and—and Luna was heartless and if I could go back and change that, I would. I certainly would. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Her hands left his and reached up to cup Calum’s face, making him jerk ever so slightly at her touch, though her hands remained, being able to feel the tightness of his jaw. “I love you, Calum. I-I’m sorry.”

His gaze remained on the wall behind her, breathing even despite the racing of his heart. He could detect the apology in her voice, could tell how sorry she was in the way she spoke and held him, but submitting to her now just didn’t feel like something he could do. Didn’t think that the forced separation from his daughter and from Aspen was something he could just forgive in one go. It would take time. Unable to trust his mother, to be able to forgive her, left Calum with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. But it was because of her he’d missed out on being with Luna, being with Aspen. That wasn’t something that could be forgiven overnight.

Calum swallowed, a lump in his throat he couldn’t get rid of. He had said his piece, as did she. He didn’t want to be here anymore.

So he inhaled sharply through his nose and reached up, hands grasping his mum’s wrists before pulling her grip off of him. Joy breathed shakily at the action. “I know you are.” Calum’s voice sounded empty, void of any emotion, the rasp in his tone making Joy flinch ever so slightly. Suddenly, not for the first time, Calum was tired. Letting go of her hands, Calum took a step away from his mum, chewing on his lower lip briefly before looking down at his feet. He wanted to leave. Calum nodded to himself. “Your flight’s tomorrow at ten. There’ll be a car waiting. Fly safe.”

He heard his mum let out a deep, shaky exhale as he turned around without giving her another look. His chest was tight and his head suddenly hurt. Tired. Calum was tired.

tags: @crownedbyluke @gotta-try-something-new @rishlo @bitchinbabylon @ghstofcalum @dxmncalum @letsfxckindance @unsexilexi @calumthoodsyonce @grreatgooglymoogly @therainydays4 @sadbreakfast-club @lifeakaharry @codycasperky2 @biggestslutforcalum @complete-trash-101 @kinglyhemmings @empathycth @friendly-neighborhood-michelle @cxddlyash @checkeredcalum @lovelettercalum @nostalgia-luke @captain-what-is-going-on @slimthicccal @bloodytbs @miahelizaaabeth @ghostofhood @elsysoza @writing-in-riverdale @tourettesboi @angelbbycal @bbteamlove @xoforeverx @stfujace @thebodaciouscth @helplesshood @runawaywithme-xo @lietomemyvalentine @emma070900 @cosmixcalum @babygirlcashton @calumamongmen @5sos-stan4lyfe @ihatemyself21 @lipstickstainfading @crystalisinfinite @misskarynie @wrappedaroundcal @wcstethenights @michealcliffturd @akacalciumhood @poppedpins @dollbitxhes @5saucewho @hearts-to-the-sky @booklove-2 @walkedhomealone @andreabjoerg @qualitylu @softboycal @early-thoughts @5saucefanfic @dher216 @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @babyloniancal @xlov3quotingx @aybbblondie @rexorangecouny @flowerchild8341 @romanticalumhood @kaxseychill @babyloncalm @calistheloml @calumh-excess @egyptiangoldhood @irwinkitten @soulmatecashton @gettingjillywithit @asht0ns-world @visualm3nte @xhaileyreneex @cal-pal-cuddles @invisiblexcth @cliffordcntrl @calumsmermaid @5secondssofssummer @cals-babylons @mysteriouslycali @hoodcentral @cathartichaoss @inlovehoodx @gigglyirwin @roselukes @thepixiedreambitch @calumhoodless @paqueretteash @antisocialbandmate @sunnysidesblog @escap0-with-me @thewhitestbitch-u-know @rosecoloredash @biwriting @calteahood @2k17muke @theagenderwhocriedwolf @caelumhood @kinglycalum @fucking5sos @ohhmuke @ghostofch @isabella-mae13 @5secsofsomewhere @tupeloohoneyy @sublimehood @shower-me-with-roses @hotmessmichael @pauliip @jetblackyoungblood @astroashtonio @valentinelrh @softforcal @glitterprincelu @meetashthere @hereforlukescruff

[cupofteaguk]

like i did with you

summary: to Jeon Jungkook, Halloween is special for one reason and one reason only. Too bad he can’t seem to figure out why.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: halloween au, friends to lovers au, college au | fluff 

warnings: jungkook is in love, jealousy, costume references to: shingeki no kyojin, spirited away, haikyuu, howl’s moving castle, & your name 

word count: 6k

.

They always say that in life, the best things come in pairs. Yin and yang, salt and pepper, chicken nuggets and french fries, peanut butter and jelly, Mickey and Minnie mouse…

You and Jungkook.

Well, at least, according to him anyways. It’s natural to feel that way about anyone, especially when that aforementioned individual comes bulldozing into his life with a wide array of similar personality traits, similar jokes, similar interests and sense of humor. To Jungkook, meeting you is like walking into a house he’s been into before, in which all the keys to unlock all the doors have been previously engraved into his mind. Given that the connection between the two of you has been unmistakeable from the start, it only makes sense for everyone to give you that best friend, comes-as-a-pair type of label.

As best friends, you did everything together. Like go on that beach camping trip together with your brother’s boy scout troop, because you needed a plus one to share the tent with. Or watching old Pokemon movies together at the Jeon household, because you were feeling nostalgic. Or inviting Jungkook to that family barbecue during the summer, because your mom was making hot dogs and insisted that you have a friend over. Or—!

“Hey.” Jungkook, age fifteen, breaks the silence with his interjection, angling his chin just enough in your direction to start the conversation and yet still keeping his eyes on the laptop opened in front of him. “The school is hosting a costume contest. For pairs.”

You raise an eyebrow, shrug a shoulder, the news not enough to drag you away from your Algebra 2 homework. “We should do it,” You propose mindlessly, flipping the page in your worksheet.

And Jungkook, similar style, similar sense of humor, similar competitive nature, smirks. “To win, right?”

You finally turn to look at him, the corner of your own lips and daring glint in your eyes. “Obviously.”

And that singular word adds another aspect to the traditional dynamic that is you and Jungkook. On top of weekly coffee meet-ups, a free ride to school, a partner to rely on in both the school and out-of-school environment, and someone to text in regards to any and all things anime or film based—dressing up for Halloween together takes the top of the list.

At fifteen, you dawn the green cloaks in representation to the Recon Corps from Shingeki No Kyojin.

At sixteen, you get red robes and Jungkook gets a mixture of blue for Chihiro and Haku respectfully from Spirited Away.

At seventeen, you spike the hair and slip on the volleyball jerseys for Haikyuu!! and actually win first place for that.

At eighteen, you cut your hair and dye it gray while Jungkook slides on a multicolored, oversized jacket and jade pendant to mirror Howl’s Moving Castle.

It becomes such a traditional thing that everyone in your friend group now knows to connect you and Jungkook to the holiday. And for Jungkook, you are just as constant in his life as Halloween is to the calendar.

However, at nineteen, three months before Halloween, you run up to his front door and greet him with the unforgettable statement that threatens to shatter the norm and the peaceful reassurance he had built the last five years of holidays on.

“I meet someone.”

.

Jungkook is nineteen years old and he is happy for you. He sees the excited curl in your lips, the glimmer in your eyes, a few different features that he has never seen on you before although he cannot help but think about how odd it is to see a display of previously unforeseen expressions over something as simple as a meeting and a conversation and a hope.

You talk briefly about the mysterious boy. Park Jimin, a year above your own, a partner of yours at the volunteer organization you’ve donated your time to at the university during the summer. This Park Jimin is shy, charming, bold, with a smile of gold and eyes of half crescent moons. By the time you’re done talking about him, Jeon Jungkook is not sure he’s the one with the crush or you are.

Instead, he clears his throat. “He does sound promising,” He manages, but the words feel… bitter on the tip of his tongue. He thinks this is probably because you and Jungkook have never encountered this kind of situation before -- in which one of you garnered a relatively public crush on someone outside of the pairing. There isn’t exactly a handbook for dummies about what to say. But Jungkook does have other friends, and those other friends have had crushes before. So he proceeds through that perspective.

“I hope so,” You return, turning your hand over and playing with the coral of your nail polish. “Our first coffee date went well and he asked to see me again.” You press your lips together to hide the depth of your smile. “I don’t really know how the whole courting stuff is supposed to go… I don’t even know if he’s expecting the same thing I am…”

Jungkook shrugs, averting his gaze from your excited bubbliness. He’s not use to someone else making you look like this. “Well,” He starts. “He’d be stupid to not want the same thing you want. You’re pretty okay most of the time.”

You snort. “Thanks.”

Now, Jungkook likes to think he knows what he’s doing most of the time -- but the sensation of having you glued to your cell phone every time it buzzes with a notification, the headache at having to hear about Park Jimin and only Park Jimin for about ninety percent of your shared conversations -- is strange and unfamiliar. It’s not like Jungkook was always the only thing ever going on in your life, but it feels weird to balance the time once spent watching anime or going to the beach with talk of someone new.

.

Jungkook is nineteen years old and he’s currently banging his head against the coffee table, the noise resonating throughout the empty shop as employee and good friend Kim Taehyung stands behind the counter while wiping down the machines. It’s thirty minutes to closing, so the roles should probably be reversed in the sense that Kim Taehyung should probably be expressing some exasperation at the fact that he cannot close the way he was trained to do with a customer still lingering about within the hazy depths of the shop, but he looks rather pitiful upon the boy in the corner booth.

“She really canceled on you again, didn’t she?”

“Only for the fourth fucking time this month,” Jungkook grits, tossing his phone carelessly upon the table as he leans forward and runs a hand through his already messy hair. “I can’t believe she would pull this shit on me again.”

Yes. Again. Fourth fucking time this month. Four times have you sent Jungkook a text with a whole set of varying words depending on the day and time, but they all fall within the same sort of category -- previously normalized study sessions or Friday night hangouts taken down in favor of going to the beach with Park Jimin or watching a movie with Park Jimin or lying across a hill with Park Jimin and honest to god, if Jeon Jungkook has to hear that name one more time, he thinks he might throw a fit.

“Wait,” Taehyung interjects, moving around the counter to start wiping down the tables. “You guys never made these plans official right? They’re sort of unspoken traditions between the two of you, aren’t they?”

“Well, yeah,” Jungkook affirms with the slight nod of his head. “But these are things we have been doing since the start of our freshman year.” He sighs, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t know. I know that she’s dating and she’s in this relationship that is clearly very important to her and I want to be happy for her.” He buries his face into his hands. “I don’t know why I’m feeling this way, to be entirely honest with you. Like I want to be excited that she’s dating but every time she mentions him I get this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. I never get like this when my other friends cancel plans, but when she does it makes me feel like I want to throw a fit. Or trip stupid Park Jimin. Or maybe both.”

Jungkook doesn’t notice the action of Taehyung the longer the ranting of the former goes on, the way Taehyung suddenly stops wiping down the tables in order to give the kind of look that really does imply exasperation and a very are-you-serious sort of complex.

It isn’t until Jungkook stops talking that Taehyung’s glare turns into a physical manifestation of words. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Jungkook flickers his gaze up, his own eyebrows morphed into one of confusion. “Huh?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen. “I said, you’re a fucking—!”

“I know what you said!” Jungkook snaps, leaning back in his chair. “When I said huh, that was meant as an opportunity for you to explain why you said that instead of literally repeating the same thing over and over again—!”

“If you don’t know why I’m calling you an idiot,” Taehyung explains, placing his hands on his hips. “Then maybe I shouldn’t tell you anything at all.”

“What are you trying to say?” Jungkook inquires, eyes following his friend as Taehyung moves onto the next table. “Are you trying to imply that my feelings are different when I’m around her?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Your words, not mine.”

Jungkook scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. I mean, obviously they’re different in the sense that she’s one of my best friends and she’s been in my life for so long—this whole Park Jimin situation is just a change I’m gonna have to deal with. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Taehyung nods, albeit a little slowly as if he’s a little disappointed with Jungkook’s findings. “Sure, Jungkook. It’s just a life adjustment. Like you said, nothing more, nothing less.”

Jungkook nods, although the frantic beating of his heart at the thought of this, the thought of you and Park Jimin, being a permanent life adjustment, suddenly makes everything seem like a pill that’s entirely too difficult to swallow.

.

Jungkook is nineteen years old when he realizes that it’s definitely not nothing more, nothing less. It is so far beyond the original computation of nothing more, nothing less, because the feelings get worse.

“Do you want to watch a movie tonight? I have the whole apartment to myself and could use the company.”

“Oh sorry Jungkook! Jimin and I are watching that new Disney movie tonight!”

And worse.

“What about getting some brisket?”

“Jimin and I are about to grab lunch, I’ll have to call you back.”

And even more worse.

He blinks, and you are standing at the front door of his apartment, entirely present but looking too far away for him to reach towards. That feeling in his heart is back, louder and much too bothersome and he wishes for nothing more in the current moment than to reach into his throat and grab the pounding thing as if to relieve himself from the sudden anxiety he feels. You’re here, and you haven’t been here in weeks and he doesn’t even know if he has the room to be happy.

“H-Hey,” He says, staring at you for one, two, three more seconds before opening the door wider and allowing you to entire. Taehyung is in the background, typing something on his laptop, but his eyes flint towards the pair of you and he raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

You whirl around, and he cannot stop himself from taking you in. Weeks have felt like painful years, and he hasn’t even realized how much he missed you until your smile and it’s like the sun is shining out of your ass. “I needed to talk to you about something,” You say, turning back around and heading towards the couch. You slide the bag off your shoulder and plop yourself down on the couch.

Jungkook takes a hesitant step forward. “What’s going on?”

“It’s about Halloween this year,” You say, readjusting the jacket on your shoulders. “I know that you and I enter the contests every year but… ah, I think Jimin and I are going to be doing something this year. We have some ideas about what to dress up as, but I wasn’t sure if I should go through with him since Halloween is something I always do with you.”

If someone had descended from the ceiling of the apartment this morning and told Jungkook that you, on top of ditching every tradition the pair of you have started, would also abandon him on your biggest tradition yet—he would have laughed. He would have laughed and insisted that no, you would never do that. Sure, Park Jimin is your first relationship and is henceforth special for you, but shouldn’t be that special that you felt inclined to abandon Jungkook in nearly every aspect of life.

He feels betrayed, he feels hurt, but he feels angry and disappointed and possessive and a whole onslaught of differing emotions that threaten to just swallow him whole that his body simply resorts to doing absolutely nothing.

“J-Jungkook?” You attempt, leaning over slightly and it takes a whole lot of willpower not to flinch away from you. He feels sick. He feels like he might throw up.

He had never really put too much thought of what a Halloween without you would feel like. He had just assumed that Halloween would always mean you, would always mean getting to further connect with you on something as silly and amusing yet fun and exciting as dressing up in costumes. But he also should have seen an end, because you’re friends. That is the fact. That is the nothing more, nothing less aspect. Friends shouldn’t participate in couple contests, couples should participate in couple contests. And you aren’t dating Jungkook—you never were. Why does that fact bring such a sickening bile to his stomach?

“I’m here,” He speaks after a moment. He, however, does not look at you and resorts to biting his thumb. “Y-You should dress up with Jimin,” He says quietly. “He’s the one you’re dating, it only seems more appropriate.”

You look at him, study him a little deeper. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah…” He manages, but his voice is a little shaky, a little unstable, a little uncertain. “Besides.” He laughs, but it sounds hollow and too far away from being genuine that he just coughs. “I didn’t really have any ideas for this year. You’ll probably have more fun with him.”

You stare at him for one, two, three more seconds. You press your lips together, curling it into a smile as you reach forward and gently take Jungkook’s hand in your own. The touch is so familiar and yet so foreign—if the spike in his heart at the physical contact is anything to go. “Thank you Jungkook. I really owe you one for being so understanding.”

Despite the inner turmoil of hurt and betrayal that has officially settled in his heart, he cannot help but deliver you with a small smile. “Yeah, anytime.”

Your smile grows just enough. You pat his hand. “I promise, we’ll do something this weekend.”

His eyes follow you as you stand up. “Yah, I’m really holding you to that.”

“I promise!” You exclaim, shouldering your bag as you make your way to the door, the smile in your voice making Jungkook’s own lips quirk just a little higher. How could you make him feel these things, yet still leave him wanting nothing more than to keep you by his side no matter what kind of lies he had to tell to save himself from a fight or confrontation of those feelings? What did it all mean? “Sorry, I promised Jimin I’d meet him at the coffee shop. I’ll see you around.”

He stands up as well, placing his hands into his pocket. “Yeah.” He locks the door as you shut it. With you gone, it leaves him in a momentary state of nothingness as he simply stands there, trying to figure out what just happened and how he could have let this happen. And why he was a few degrees south of being okay.

“You know,” A voice sounds from behind him and Jungkook suddenly remembers that Taehyung is here and has been here even before you walked into the apartment. “I think there’s a word for guys like you.”

Jungkook turns on the heels of his feet, glaring at Taehyung again. “Oh, so you’re finally gonna tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours about my condition?”

Taehyung closes his laptop and leans back in his kitchen seat, looking over at the younger boy. “I can’t believe you would let her walk over you like that, yet you still trail after her just because she smiles and promises you a weekend of coffee.”

“I… I didn’t do that,” Jungkook protests weakly, but it’s pointless because Taehyung saw everything.

Taehyung scoffs. “Okay then.”

“I think that I’m a little… upset,” Jungkook starts, crossing his arms across his chest. “But it’s nothing serious…” He trails off, but the more he thinks about his behavior, the more he starts to recognize the slight flaws in what gestures he was displaying to you. It’s the emotions of a perfectly sane, perfectly capable best friend to be a little insulted over being replaced. It’s perfectly normal to think that you and him would always be together, and not at all a behavior that could be classified as being—!

“Whipped,” Taehyung finally fills in. “You’re not just a little upset—it’s something else entirely. It’s this little emotion you might be familiar with.”

Jungkook gapes slightly at the label. “Whipped?” He echoes, and the denial is immediately evident in the form of his disbelieving take on laughter. “Oh no, I’m not whipped. What do you mean I should be familiar with that word? Since when?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Since four years ago.”

“Four years?” Jungkook returns, then his frown deepens. “Why so specific on the timing?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Taehyung starts sarcastically, throwing his hands up as he pushes himself away from the table. “Maybe because that’s how long you’ve been in love with her? And the fact that she’s throwing aside the friendship she has with you for a relationship is completely throwing you off your grid that has her fucking face in the center of it!”

Jungkook pales at the accusation. “I’m not… in love with her…” He protests.

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“I… really…” He starts, pressing his lips together. “I’m not in love with her. She’s just… she’s just my best friend.”

“Your best friend who you want to be with all the time,” Taehyung fills in, leaning against the counter.

“It’s not like that,” Jungkook retorts, gnawing at his lower lip. “I don’t need to be with her all the time,” He continues. “I just… sure, I mean, I like getting those good morning and good evening and in between texts from her, I like how thoughtful and careful she is but how everything she does is done with a touch of consideration and kindness, I like her smile and her playful banters and disposition, I like how her eyes crinkle in the corners when she’s laughing, or when her nose gathers up when I tell a stupid joke or when she’s trying to hold in her laughter. I like how she is and how I am when I’m with her but that doesn’t mean that…” He trails off.

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “Doesn’t mean that…?” He supplies unhelpfully.

“I…” Jungkook starts, trailing off, giving Taehyung a long and hard stare from across the distance. “Is that what love is?”

Taehyung levels his stare. “It’s something that each individual feels for themselves, but yeah, I would consider that love.”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment, staring from Taehyung to the ground below him, because oh my god, he’s in love with you. The realization is scary, of course, but something about the thought also feels real and right. But now that everything is out in the open and he acknowledges his feelings, there is a problem because he does not know what to do with this information. You are dating, you have a boyfriend, and you are happy with some other guy that is not him.

“Well, fuck,” He says, and that feels as if it just about covers the wide range of his current emotional spectrum.

.

Jungkook is nineteen years old and he is a major prick of jealousy and unresolved emotions all bottled up into a singular 5’10 human being, but for someone who has never had to deal with this before and for someone who is normally terrible at keeping things bottled up—this is a terrible predicament. And Jungkook makes it even more terrible by allowing himself to knock on the front door of your apartment, and let himself into your living room when you open the door.

“And Jimin was so sweet, he came by the restaurant and dropped off some boba for me,” You exclaim, the bowl of popcorn in your arms as you plop yourself down on the couch. You grab one and pop it into your mouth. “There’s so much give and take when it comes to a relationship, I didn’t even realize it. I thought that I would have so much trouble trying to figure that shit out, but Jimin really likes the things I do even when I worry that I’m not doing a good job. He really appreciates it when I come by the dance studio, even though I worry that that’s not enough for him. It’s so weird and—Jungkook, are you okay?”

Jungkook doesn’t he realize he had been gripping the shared blanket nestled between the two of you until he looks down and sees his knuckles practically turning white. It hadn’t been intentional.

“U-Uh, yeah, I’m okay,” He stammers, letting go of the blanket and wondering if it would be a smart move to just duck for the front door and never face you again. As madly in love with you as he realizes he is, this might be the best thing for his sanity and his heart.

“Are you sure?” You inquire back, tilting your head. “You’ve honestly been weird ever since I started spending more time with Jimin.”

“I mean,” Jungkook starts. “You had been neglecting our friendship—but, I guess I understand the whole concept of having a crush and being in that stage where you only want to spend time with that person… you’re here now and you invited me over, so that has to mean things are normalizing between the two of you and that you’re getting comfortable…” He realizes that he might be ranting, so he clasps his mouth shut.

You look down. “Yeah, I’m sorry about bailing on you so often. I guess now that my head isn’t completely dominated by that whole honeymoon stage with Jimin, I’m realizing that I was sort of a dick to you. That’s one of the reasons I invited you here, actually. To apologize for being a jerk. You’re my best friend, and I totally let you down these past few months…”

You trail off, the words ‘best friend’ echoing over and over again in Jungkook’s mind like a song that never ends. A few weeks ago, he might have been okay with simply just being a best friend but now, that’s not good enough for him. He wants to be the one you turn other people down for, he wants to be the only one your pretty little mind thinks about no matter what time it is or no matter what is going on. Suddenly, ‘best friend’ isn’t good enough.

“Actually,” Jungkook interrupts, sitting up a little straighter, resting his arms on his knees and lacing his fingers together. “I came here to tell you something too.”

You join him. “What is it?”

He thinks about this, but he shakes his head. “Wait, no, I can’t say anything to you. It’s stupid, and you’ll probably laugh at me…”

You raise an eyebrow as he stands up. “Jungkook, what are you saying? Of course I would never laugh at you. Nothing you have to say is stupid, okay? I’m your friend, I’ll probably understand whatever it is you have to say…”

“See, that’s the thing,” Jungkook cuts in, shrugging on his jacket and running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to just your friend anymore.”

“Jungkook…”

But he’s already on a roll, the words he previously rehearsed becoming jumbled messes inside his head. “Look, I don’t know how to say it so I’m just gonna it right now.” He takes in a breath, failing to notice the almost comical wide-eyed stare you’re feeding him with. “I’m in love with you, okay? And I’ve been in love with you for the past four years but I’m a dumbass and didn’t even realize I was in love with you until recently. And I know that’s not fair for you to have this information but if I have to hear one more story about Park Jimin, then I think I might lose my entire mind. And it’s not because I don’t want you to be happy, I just don’t want you to be happy with him—I want you to be happy with me. And I know I could make you happy. I thought we had fun together, especially during those Halloween costume contests, since those were honestly my favorite thing to do with you during the year and then you had to go and take that away from me.” He laughs humorlessly, running a hand through his hair. “And the worst part? The worst part is that I really did have a costume idea I wanted to share with you. I wanted to dress up as those stupid Your Name characters with you! I didn’t realize how important that film is to me until I rewatched the goddamn movie and realized that the characters heard a bell to signify that they were soulmates, and it made me realize with an even more fiery passion that I wanted to dress up as the characters with you so I could pretend I hear bells with you when I’m sure that I did, and that I always have. And you’re not even in my life that often anymore, and it sucks, and you were so happy with Jimin and so happy at the thought of him that of course I could never say anything to jeopardize my friendship with you. Because I want to be friends with you. But I also want to be more. Because I’m in love with you.” He forces his mouth shut, pressing his lips, realizing that maybe he has said too much. “I should go.”

He’s barely slamming the front door of your apartment shut when he hears, “N-No, Jungkook wait!” from the other side. But it’s too late. The damage is done. Well fuck, indeed.

.

Jungkook is nineteen years old, it’s Halloween, and he’s suffering from the horrible condition of having his heart broken from someone who never agreed to hold it in the first place. He didn’t even need to hear the words of rejection from your lips, for he doesn’t think he could handle the desperation of trying to fix the friendship, the desperation of trying to get you back when he’s sure you’ve moved halfway across the world right now.

“You didn’t even hear what she had to say,” Taehyung argues, but his voice is soft as if he’s treating something like fragile glass. And although Jeon Jungkook is far from fragile glass, the way he is currently wrapped up a little too tightly and too deeply in his blanket says a little too much about his current depression.

“I didn’t need to,” Jungkook argues back, voice slightly muffled from the blanket covering his mouth. “She’s already with Jimin. Why would she want to be with me? If anything, I probably freaked her out by saying all those stupid things.”

Taehyung sighs, pocketing his phone. “Look, Jungkook, I just think you moved too hastily—!”

He’s interrupted by a knocking on the door. The boy makes a slightly surprised noise in the back of his throat, but moves regardless to answer the call. The door opens, there is a quiet murmur that envelops the room, something that Jungkook pays little to no attention towards. He just burrows into the blankets and desires nothing more than the ground to swallow him up whole.

Footsteps come back into the living and Jungkook sighs. “Hyung, I don’t really want another lecture about this whole situation…”

“Hey you,” A soft voice speaks instead, cutting through his own tired facade and making his heart stop short because that voice. “Haven’t we met before?”

No fucking way. No fucking way at all. Your voice is definitely some fragment of his broken imagination. Even though he just saw you yesterday, he’s probably missing you too much. Besides, it’s Halloween. You’re supposed to be with Jimin.

Still, he finds himself turning his head towards the source of the noise. And he almost forgets how to breathe.

You stand a few feet away from him, hair in a ponytail, bright red bow across your neck, flowy skirt around your waist, and holy fuck. You’re wearing a costume. You’re wearing a Mitsuha costume. And you’re quoting Your Name at him.

His brain short circuits, his doe-eyes turning wider at the sight. This is definitely a dream. Definitely his imagination. What the fuck. There’s no fucking way.

You tuck your arms behind your back, smiling down at his defeated figure on the couch, but the smile is small and unsure and timid and so beautiful and golly god he is in love with you.

So naturally, Jungkook says the only thing he is truly capable of saying in this moment. “What are you doing here?”

You’re still smiling, but you keep your distance. “Well, I was hoping there was still a Taki I could pair up with. This costume is a little lonely on its own.”

“Huh?”

You sigh, tugging at your red bow. “Jungkook, I wanted to talk to you. About what to said to me yesterday.”

“Oh.” He swallows, not sure if he’s ready to talk about it. You’re probably just here to reject him and say you can’t be friends with him anymore. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

You look down. “I’m not sure. Probably getting drunk at one of the frats house parties. Not that it matters to me anymore.”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Well, you see, Jimin isn’t my boyfriend. We’re not dating. We never were.”

He frowns. “Huh?”

You take in a breath, and take a step closer. Jungkook doesn’t back away, doesn’t shrink back in the couch. “Jungkook, I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot for a few reasons, but I think most of all, I’m an idiot for thinking you never once felt the same way I have.”

He almost wants to scoff automatically at your words, but something makes him stop short. Felt the same way you have? He looks at you, seeing you and hearing you but not really understanding you. “Again, huh?”

You exhale. “You know,” You start, taking a seat on the coffee table. “For someone who has liked you for four years, you would think I could come up with a better way of telling you my feelings.”

“Y-Your feelings?” He echoes. He hadn’t been expecting you at all tonight, so he had little time to prepare for such an interaction. “You’re in love with me too?”

You shrug a shoulder, moving a little closer so that your knees can touch. “That’s the idea, yeah.”

“B-But…” He scrambles to make sense of his thoughts. He wants to look at you, but he cannot seem to find the will to look at you and talk to you at the same time. “But you never said anything… and you started dating Jimin… and you seemed so happy… I thought…” His eyes find yours, and although feelings have definitely be shared, there is still a heavy amount of uncertainty in both of your stares. “You’ve been ignoring me for months. I thought you didn’t care anymore.”

“Jungkook…” You interrupt, reaching forward to grab his wrist. The usage of physical touch as a means of comfort makes him realize just how much he’s missed this kind of contact with you—even if the previous times you’ve touched him have been quick and friendly. He relishes in it though, clenching his jaw, trying not to do something too stupid too quickly. “You’re my best friend, I could never not care about you.”

“But…” He tries again. “Jimin… you guys were dating…”

“That was actually my idea,” Kim Taehyung interrupts, raising his fingers up just enough to drag both of your attention away from the other. He steps forward into the moment. “I’ve known about her feelings for years now, and I had a feeling you felt the same way too.” He looks at Jungkook while he says this. “But I wasn’t too sure, so that’s why I set Jimin up with her to see how you would react. You took such a long time to finally show any type of emotional response, I had been worried for a second that nothing would work out. But then she texted me saying that you completely lost your fucking mind on her, so I told her to come over.”

You smile a little. “I had little intention of throwing Taehyung under the bus… but—!”

Jungkook doesn’t know what propels him to close the last few inches of distance between the two of you, but all he knows is that it takes two seconds for him to deliver you with a bone-crushing hug that effectively cuts you off and effectively makes Taehyung feel like the outsider. He buries his nose into the crook of your neck, something he didn’t even realized he’s always wanted to do until the smell of lavender floods his nose and he realizes that this is entirely worth it.

“Jungkook,” You start again tentatively. “Are you alright?”

“I missed you,” He grumbles. “I hate you for playing games with me like this. But I love you too. And I’m sorry.”

You exhale breathlessly, but you return his hug, however awkward it may be with both of you still more or less sitting. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying sorry?”

“I mean…” He starts quietly. “That too. But maybe if you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have realized my feelings for you. I’m still sorry though.”

You laugh a little, musical sounds to his ears. “Of course I forgive you. But I think I would forgive you a little more if you did something with me.”

“And what’s that?”

You pull away, gesturing to your costume. “I hope you have a green tie with you somewhere. There’s a costume contest going on. For couples. And it’d be a shame if I let this Mitsuha costume go to waste.”

He pretends to ponder this. “For couples,” He quotes you. “Is this your way of asking me out?”

You tilt your head at him. “Is it working?”

“Perhaps.”

You place your hands on his shoulders. “How about,” You start. “You put on that green tie and we go to the contest and we really do something only couples should be allowed to do?”

The corner of Jungkook’s lip turn up, his heart picking up. “I might say yes to that,” He replies.

From outside the little bubble of conversation shared between you and Jungkook, Kim Taehyung groans and rolls his eyes. “I wonder how long it’s gonna take me to regret being the catalyst in your relationship.”

[numba99]

Hate to Love You Part 5

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

Summary: You and Jimmy have never gotten along. To say you hated each other would be an understatement. But when a night at a party takes an unexpected turn, things between the two of you change forever. Word Count:1,817

Warnings: i’m talking about a family dynamic in this part and it will be part of the series from this point on. I just want to be clear that I am not saying I think this what Jimmy’s relationship with his dad is like. Like the rest of the story it is 100% fictional. Please don’t get big mad about it in my ask, it’s fake and just for the dynamic of the story tysm. Also v light smut

The rangers had been out another road trip, so it had been a few days before you were back at Brady’s place. With his girlfriend back in Minnesota, he was inviting you over more than usual, which you didn’t mind. Plus, on this particular night Brady told you Jimmy’s family was visiting so he would be out. You couldn’t pass up a Jimmy-free hang out with Brady.

You and Brady sat on the couch, flicking through movies on Netflix. Jimmy sat at the other side of the room, ignoring as the two of you bickered over what to order for dinner.

“We haven’t had Chinese in forever,” you groaned.

“Chinese food makes sluggish the next day, I gotta be sharp for the game,” he replied.

You rolled your eyes. That was always his excuse. “Right, because the giant lasagna you’re going to order isn’t going to make you sluggish,” you said.

“It’s not! It’s called carb loading, if you were an athlete you’d know,” Brady teased. 

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, tossing a pillow across the couch at him, “And I’ll have you know I do know. We used to have pasta parties before volley ball games in high school to carb load, thank you very much.”

“Alright, alright you got me,” Brady laughed, “We can do Chinese this time, but if I’m slow on the ice tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”

Your banter was interrupted by a knock the door. You both looked over at Jimmy, as he was the only one expecting visitors. He stood up, grumbling under his breath about being early.

“Dad you’re early,” Jimmy said as his dad stepped into the apartment. Wasn’t the greeting you would except after not seeing a parent for months. His dad looked in your direction, only offering a half wave to you and Brady, which you didn’t even bother returning. 

“Well I had to be Jimmy, we have a lot to talk about,” his father said sternly. 

“Dad I don-”

“What the hell were you doing out there on the ice last night?” his father cut him off, “I mean, jesus, Jimmy you play like you don’t care. Never going to get anywhere like that.” 

You shifted uncomfortably next to Brady. As much as you didn’t like Jimmy, it was hard to watch. You’ve never seen him look so defeated. He kept his eyes on the floor, just taking his father’s words.

“Where’s mom?” Jimmy asked, trying to change the subject.

“She’s waiting in the car downstairs. We should get moving come to think of it,” his dad replied. Jimmy seemed to let out a breath, like he was happy to get out of this situation. “But we aren’t done talking about this.” 

Jimmy’s face tightened again as he grabbed his jacket off the hook by the door. He didn’t bother saying a word as he slipped out the door, his dad following him. His father said bye to Brady, not even acknowledging your presence. What a charming man.

“What the hell was that about?” you asked once the door closed behind them.

“Oh Jimmy’s dad? He’s always been like that, super tough tough on him. I kinda just got used to it, but yeah he can be pretty intense,” Brady explained.

“Pretty intense? I’d say full out douche bag,” you replied. You supposed that was where Jimmy got his attitude from, but you shook your head. Something about his dad was far worse. And that was saying something. 

“Yeah he’s a hard ass. I think he’s been like that his entire life,” Brady told you. You felt a twinge of sadness for Jimmy. He was far from being your favorite person, but no one deserves that, especially not from a parent.

Your mind drifted away from Jimmy and his dad when your food arrived - it’s hard to think of anything when you have dumplings and fried rice in front of you. Even Brady admitted Chinese was a good choice and you smiled triumphantly, popping the last bite of a dumpling in your mouth.

After you had stuffed yourself with food, you both settled back on the couch, knowing you wouldn’t be able to move for awhile. You guys chatted for a while, realizing it was the first time you were alone in a long time. It was always nice to have some time just the two of you. You loved your other friends, like Gracia and Kevin, but there was something about being just with Brady. It was nostalgic, reminding you of when you used to hang out together growing up in Minnesota.

Eventually, as the two of you grew tired, you decided to watch one those crime documentaries you’d heard so much about. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as interesting as you had been led to believe. Between the slow build and the drone of the narration, you found yourself nodding off.

Sunlight hit your face, pulling you from a light sleep. You shot up, slightly disoriented. You hadn’t intended to spend the night at Brady’s, but well here you are. It wasn’t the first time you stayed over by any means, but it still confused you for a moment since you weren’t expecting it.

You noticed then Brady wasn’t next to you anymore. You wondered if he had went back to his bed to sleep. You checked your phone, knowing he would text you and sure enough there was a message from him.

Headed out to get bagels, I’ll be back soon!

The message was from just a few minutes ago. Damn, you thought, just missed him. You stood up from the couch, stretching yourself before padding into the kitchen. You searched the cabinets for a glass - a harder task in this apartment than it should be. You finally settled on a wine glass, filling it with water and chugging it to hydrate yourself after a long sleep.

“Sleeping beauty finally wakes,” a voice says from behind you. You jumped, nearly dropping the glass.

“God you’re like a cat,” you sighed, setting the glass down on the counter. Lord knows they couldn’t afford to lose one. 

“I can’t tell if that is a compliment,” Jimmy said, leaning against the counter across from. He wore an old Harvard tee, with gray sweats sitting low on his hips. His hair was a little messy, like he just woke up too. You hated to admit it, but it was a good look.

“Neither can I,” you said. Normally you’d straight up tell him it wasn’t, but you wanted to do some digging and guessed it would be better to play nice. “What was that with your dad?” you asked, trying to sound casual. 

Jimmy’s demeanor changed instantly. “Let’s not go there.”

“Sorry,” you replied, expecting that much, “But for what it’s worth he was being a total dick. Which for me to say about how someone was treating you is saying something.”

“Yeah, well, that’s my dad for you,” Jimmy sighed, “He’s an asshole.”

“All the time?” you asked.

“All the time,” he confirmed, “Hockey’s all he care about, I never hear the end of it. It’s fucking frustrating.”

You wanted to say something thoughtful, maybe even give advice. However, when you opened your mouth a different set of words came out. “Take it out on me.”

Jimmy’s head snapped up, studying your face to see if you were for real. “What do you mean?” he asked, stepping closer to you. Your heart raced, looking up as he towered over you.

“Your frustration, take it out on me,” you told him. You took a step closer to him, squaring yourself up to look him in the eye. You wanted to appear confident even if your knees were shaking a little. “Come on, what are you scared or something?” you challenged.

In a flash, Jimmy was on you.He lifted you up effortlessly, placing you on the counter. “You’re going to regret this,” he said, nipping at your neck. His teeth grazed across your skin, before his lips nursed the parts he bit.

“Try me,” you replied, pulling his face to yours. You kissed him hungrily, nails scratching at the back of his neck and shoulders as your tongue slipped between his lips.Jimmy bit down on your lower lip, pulling at it with his teeth, before returning to kissing you.

Jimmy yanked at your leggings and you lifted yourself up slightly to allowing them to slip down your legs.Jimmy stepped between your thighs, spreading your legs slightly. You felt your pussy throb in anticipation knowing he would be inside you in just minutes.

You weren’t proud to admit it, but since you had seen the size of him you couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d feel like. This eagerness led you to pulling at the waistband of his pants. Jimmy took the hint, sliding his pants and boxers down just enough to take his dick out.

He leaned into you, his lips finding yours again. All the while the tip of his cock was brushing against your core. It was driving you wild, you could feel yourself pooling on your inner thigh. His hand griped the base of his cock, about to press into you when you heard the front door open.

You both went into a scramble, nearly smacking your heads against each other as you tried to get your pants back on. You both turned in opposite directions, trying to look occupied with whatever was on the counter in front of you.

“Oh great you’re both up!” Brady chirped as he entered the kitchen. You only managed a nod, afraid talking would give away how on edge you were. You had been seconds away from being caught and it freaked you out. You had no idea how Brady would react, but you knew there would be know going back after that.

“Hard to sleep with this one snoring on the couch,” Jimmy commented, back to his teasing ways. It was nice, almost, it felt normal. You needed normal after that close call.

“I’m sorry, I should have been more thoughtful of your beauty sleep. God knows you need it,” you replied. Brady chuckled as he usually did, always finding humor in the banter. He handed out the bagels, which you ate relatively quickly. You didn’t to look like you were in a rush to leave, but you did want to head out of there.

You made up an excuse that you had a shit ton of errands to run, heading out the door without looking at Jimmy again. Maybe it was because you had basically been blue balled or that you were almost caught, but you just felt off. You had surprised yourself with how much you’d wanted him. Or maybe just his dick. Or maybe it was him. You didn’t know. You took the long the long way home, hoping for clarity that would never come.

[dimples-of-discontent]

Hello, it is I, a 34 year-old woman who has come here to talk about someone I know who may or may not have a crush on me but it’s irrelevant because 1) he’s not single and 2) I have cancer so I’m not going to date anyone anyway. But guess what? I don’t care!! Some things just never change and the kind of “am I reading this right??” insecurity that you have when you’re a teenager just never goes away.

So, hey, if you’ve missed me I’m here to deliver all kinds of silliness tonight! I’ve been away lately because, during the week, I went to an appointment in Boston with a doctor from Harvard who specializes in the kind of breast cancer I have and (hurray!) think it really paid off and I think I’ll be treated there. Then, for the weekend, my NY-area friends and I went away to a cabin in the woods for pre-chemo celebration/togetherness. (Don’t worry; it wasn’t like a horror movie.) It was totally wonderful. I drove to and from the cabin with the dude in question. My adolescent ramblings below.

So, back in August I wrote this silly post about whether I was over- or misinterpreting my friend’s behavior. At the time, we’d been friends for about 3 months and he and his GF were long-distance. Now, we’ve been friends for an additional 7 months and she’s lived with him for 6 of those. They are now both actually my closest friends in town and really high on the list overall too. I like hanging out with them together and separately. We’ve got a neat nexus of overlapping interests so that any combination of the 3 of us has lots to talk about and a lot of fun. I’m somewhat closer to him, because we see each other SO often and because we often confide things in each other. I’m close to her too, though. It’s rare to find such good friends and, honestly, that’s the only really important thing. I have no interest in losing that.

Anyway, my read on the situation back when I posted in August is now pretty much that he was stressing out about the imminent arrival of the GF because they hadn’t been living together and she was moving there without a job just to be with him and that’s kind of a lot. I have no idea if it had anything to do with me. I think it may have, just in the sense of an additional thing. I think it’s likely that he had some level of crush on me--although even if not we were definitely good friends--and was worried about how that would change with the addition of a partner would change either dynamic. 

It all worked out because the minute the three of us met as a group we clicked instantly. We spent the summer and fall going hiking together and all having long conversations in the car and on the trail. We watched movies together and threw a Halloween party. He and I see each other 5-7 days a week (since we work together) and have a constantly active text conversations (the 3 of us have a GC too). I worried about intruding, but both of them invited me to stuff and were happy to be invited. (I did find it hard/annoying to try to see either one of them socially without the other...they do the couple thing of coming along as a unit but, ultimately, I didn’t make a thing out of it b/c they are great.) I could see how much he relaxed, literally the first few hours we all met up together as it was apparent how well we all got along. So, maybe he was worried about what I was going to do myself as well as his feelings? Who knows.

So I was pretty much on the side of “this was a temporary crush that abated once GF moved in and he remembered why they were together and it was clear that that wasn’t changing just b/c I was around.” That’s true, I think. But...ok. So, I’m very much one for crushing on, hooking up with, and getting into relationships with friends. I find it hard to know any other way. This means that I’m constantly keeping a lid on low-to-high level crushes for unavailable folks. (I think my brain is just wired for romantic/physical attraction to align with emotional closeness...too bad I’m only romantically and physically attracted to men though.) So of course--of COURSE--there is a part of me that wants us to be dating. Inevitably. It’s not helped by the fact that he reminds me so strongly of my first serious boyfriend, a wonderful guy I was with for 3.5 years. And, generally, I blame myself and this fact for any over-reading of things. But then I wonder if I’m not just gaslighting myself (an expert move) b/c I am so worried about coming off as arrogant by thinking he does have romantic feelings.

There are plenty of small things aside from just the constant contact. For one, he was deeply upset by my cancer diagnosis and is taking it all (including my feelings about it) very seriously. And, yeah, that is a very valid reaction, but we haven’t known one another that long...even my exes and friends from 10+ years ago haven’t been as affected, and the people who are have have been in my life for absolute ever. I’m shocked that he and the GF are willing to go through this with me since I feel like I haven’t given them much as friends so far, but they absolutely are so clearly they are just great people.

More frivolously, when one or both of us is intoxicated or otherwise in an altered state he’ll let himself be a lot physically closer to me than usual. Like, it’s actually notable that usually he tries hard not to be touching me, in a way that just has to be deliberate. Friends sit together and knock their shoulders or elbow each other or will pat backs, ruffle hair, share blankets, lean into each other...all the kinds of touching that communicate intimacy without it being sexually charged. If we do that by accident, he’ll move away fast. Except if he’s drunk. And even then it’s absolutely nothing untoward, just drifting into my space, resting knees together. One time we were standing in line for fried food after a bar night, with the GF, all happily drunk, and I leaned into him so our shoulders and arms were pressed together as I read the menu. He moved away so that we weren’t touching. Then, a fraction of a second later, he moved back so that we were pressed together again, like he’d made some kind of decision to do it. He also *never* says anything about my appearance. Like, not even “you look nice” when I’m dressed for an event or “I like your haircut.” Maybe he just doesn’t want to be brought in to validate me or something, but again it feels like it goes against the social norms for friends but makes sense if he’s trying to conceal non-platonic feelings.

We behave enough like a couple that people who encounter us, even at work, often believe we’re together. We share food and drinks (from the same plates or cups) and often bring things that the other has left behind at our places. We have to try not to get the giggles at meetings when inside jokes come up. We tease each other with stories only 2-3 of us (him, me, and GF) know. This is all kind of dumb and, mostly, background noise to a great friendship. I decided that we’d just always have a little tension/chemistry but that we’d probably never mention it and that’s fine. That’s likely right! But this weekend he and I drove up to this cabin together (about 3 hrs each way) and things felt...loaded?

I’m getting tired, so I may need to write down the rest of my thoughts later. But, on the way up, we listened to music and drove through the dark and had some good conversations about friends, family, work, life, etc. The weekend was great (about which more later, hopefully) and then today on the drive back (which, again, is close to 3 hours) we did nothing but talk. First, about life stuff and then, rapidly, about our entire relationship histories. We’d exchanged a lot of that info before--including how much I remind him of the GF before this one, which we affirmed again when I referred to her as “the one who is basically me” and he said “yeah, and in more than the superficial ways too.” To be clear, he wasn’t talking about his current relationship or implying anything like dissatisfaction with it. There was just a whole LOT of dating history, hookup history, good/bad feelings and experiences; the kind of long convo you can have with a friend while burning miles of highway.

We took a break, got back in the car, and I laughed and said “I feel like that was pretty much my whole history but if there’s anything else you want to know AMA!”. I didn’t expect him to take it seriously but he did and basically asked “What crazy things did you do when you were younger” and I was like “in what sense? and what’s do you consider ‘crazy’?” and he was like “I mostly mean sexually...and you get to decide what counts.” So, I don’t have a totally extensive experience to draw from but I have some so I shared a few and was like “what about you?” and then he shared a few. And we had actual real conversations about how relationships make you feel and about the weird nexus of desire and shame that can happen. 

Eventually I was like, “I think that’s everything I could tell you...anything else you wanted to know?”. And he goes quiet for a L O N G time and goes “is there anyone in [place where we live] that you have like a crush on?”. And I am rolling my eyes internally (and possibly externally) because EITHER this is the most obvious ploy to get me to say “oh it’s you!” that I’ve ever heard, or else he so TOTALLY doesn’t think of me that way that he’s not even counting himself as a possibility. So I just go ahead and say, “well, if you weren’t in a relationship I would want to date you” b/c I am not going to coyly misdirect. I’m watching the traffic b/c the highway is crowded so I don’t know what face he made but he says, “Thank you. I mean...yeah. I could see that happening. [pause] But what I meant was is there anyone you have just, like, an idle crush on?”. So then I feel kind of dumb because was that his way of letting me down gently? OR was it way of saying “yeah, what you’re talking about with us is more than an idle crush”?? One way makes me feel stupid for saying anything, and the other makes me feel like he pretty much just told me that we’d be dating if he weren’t with someone else - which is what I suspected but which I also thought it made me arrogant to think. (Or maybe it was just a way to not have to follow up on us both basically admitting that if things were different we’d be a couple.)

There was some other odd stuff, though none of it felt weird in a bad way just like it stuck out a little. (FYI, it was all in fun and not at all awkward - we are super comfortable together.) I was talking about how several times I’ve gotten together with guys for a short time who then went back to their long-term girlfriends and how one of my other friends said I was a “what if” girl; like “sure I have a girlfriend but what if I were with HER??”. And he was like, well yeah, that’s possible and a huge compliment b/c why not dream big? And then later said that clearly I could be a homewrecker if I ever wanted to be (though we both know I wouldn’t). He also told me about another girl who was his ex’s roommate who just started texting him again talking about how she’s unhappy in her relationship; he says they always had chemistry and that she’s reaching out b/c of that but that, obviously, he’s just playing dumb in the text messages and pretending that’s not what she’s doing. But, like, is he letting me know that other people like him? Why? Basically, I couldn’t get a handle on whether this conversation, whatever else it was, had a subtextual vibe of “I have doubts/questions about my current situation” or not.

Having typed it out, though, it sounds a bit like it does? And like they might involve me? Or that it’s just fully a “bad timing” kind of thing where we could date but obviously never will. Can we at least conclude that this is someone who is attracted to me?? It sounds like that, right?

I mean, it also sounds very silly and not appropriate to my age to be going over in such detail but, honestly, if it’s distracting me from cancer that’s kind of just good. Anyway, you are readers and writers of fic and consumers of literature so I appeal to you to let me know what YOU think is going on here...aside from the fact that no matter what I have a great pair of friends who I care very much about. I welcome the distraction....though if you could comment and not reblog that would be great. And thank you for reading this diary entry. ;)

[cal-puddies]

let them have cake - pt 3 || calum hood || luke hemmings

smut...

Cal was sprawled across one of your couches a few months after the bathroom event. It was no longer a secret to Ash that you were still sleeping with both of them.

He’d seen the hickies and bite marks and he’d even accidentally walked into Cal’s while the three of you were hooking up. It was definitely awkward for a bit.

The three of you had a group text and at this point anyone could request a meetup with reasonable expectations the others would show. You were with Cal so much that it was almost easy.

Lately Luke had been less available and the two of you had yet to take the initiative to hook up without him. For you, it’s that you and Cal are too close now, that’d be crossing a line and there’d need to be more conversation before that happened.

-I hate to do this, but I’m getting serious with this one. So I’m not gonna be hooking up with you two anymore.

The message was clear. Luke was seeing someone.

“What?” Calum said aloud.

“I didn’t say anything.” You respond, giving him a strange look.

“No, check your phone.”

You look around and can’t find it in your immediate vicinity. Cal notices and starts to look around too.

“Luke’s seeing someone; he’s not hooking up with us anymore.” He finally explains.

You think for a second, “Well good for him! Weren’t you just saying you were tired of seeing him naked anyway?”

“But I’m not tired of seeing you naked.” Cal smirks.

“I mean maybe this is for the best, I don’t think a threesome situation is meant for a long haul, it’s tiring… Luke was rarely ever the one to get me off, if he was, he was mean about it or forced multiple orgasms, which sounds fun in theory… not really great… I’ve sucked more dick hooking up with you two than I have in my entire life… threesomes are a lot of work.”

Cal sits up so he can participate in the conversation “I hear everything your saying… I’m honestly just bummed because that’s it for… us.” He motions between the two of you. “I like seeing you naked. I like getting you off. I like the noises that you make. I’m sure it was exhausting to get fucked by two different guys and suck two dicks a night. But I’m not tired of you and yeah, I was getting a little tired of watching you fuck or suck Luke, but I just…” He pauses to lick his lips, “not you. I like being with you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek while you think on what he’s just said. You really liked being with Calum too, more so than anyone else you’d ever slept with. It was why you continued the threesomes, Calum was hot and skilled, and he just knew what to do for you anymore. “ I mean Calum… he’s stopping, that doesn’t mean we have to, right? If we’re having fun and enjoying ourselves…”

“I didn’t want to just assume you enjoyed me in the threesome…” he laughs.

“Oh you missed the part where I pointed out that Luke rarely ever got me off?” You smirk and cross the space between the couches. You straddle his lap. “It changes the dynamic a little. It’s you and me and no one else. But I’m ok with that I think… it’s typically just us hanging out after anyway.”

Cal gets a little hopeful here. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t developed some type of feeling for you. Sure Luke planned the first threesome but it was because Cal was sort of interested in you.

“I know babe… you’re right.” Cal said. “I think we could have more fun without him.”

“I 100% agree. And besides we pretty much already work as a FWB scenario anyway.” You shrug.

It burned coming out of your mouth. Ash had sat you down for a ‘come to Jesus’ meeting after he’d walked in on the three of you to figure out why you kept doing it, he understood why your jaw always hurt now. But once you admitted to him that you were into Cal, he got why you kept doing it.

Cal, on the other hand tried not to let his face falter at the FWB term, though he couldn’t really be mad because he hadn’t ever said he wanted more.

And so, your relationship became a friend with benefits situation.

Starting right then, because Cal pushes his hands up your thighs and around your back, pulling you further into his lap. He grins up at you and presses his lips to yours. “I think I’m really gonna like not sharing you…” he whispers.

“God knows I’m gonna enjoy it a lot more. Not having to figure out the logistics of sucking a dick while taking a dick..” you chuckle.

Cal rolls his eyes at you but he starts moving his lips against yours and then he’s slipping you tongue, and before you know, he’s got you in one of your favorite positions, on your back with him kneeling, your legs over his thighs on the couch.  Cal’s got power in his hips and he’s so damn mesmerized watching you react to each thrust. “Fuck... Calum... don’t stop.” You whimper.

“I gotchu.” He pants, holding your hips tighter.

“C’mere Cal, need’ta kiss you.” You pull at his arm and he obliges, now leaning over you, chest to chest for the first time, and you love it. You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, grabbing his hair, your other arm goes around his back and your nails dig in. Cal leaning forward had thrown your hips into a new position and he was deeper than he’d ever been.

He kisses you and you whimper. He pulls away slightly to look at you, and one of his hands smooths your hair. “You ok?”

You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes closed, “feels so good babe.” You nod, pulling at his hair.

“Yeah?” He asks, you give his hair a particularly strong pull and he moans, “yes babe, keep doing that.”

“Caluuuummm… fuck… cal… please.” You whimper.

Cal’s lips make their way from your jaw to your neck and back to your lips, “have I ever let you down?” He asks, lips pressed to yours.

“Noooooo….” you pant. “Tonight’s not a good starting point.” You joke.

“Don’t worry baby, you’re gonna cum as much as you want.” He pants. You tug on Cal’s hair as you kiss him harder.

Calum keeps it up till he knows you’re close, your body tells him everything he needs to know these days. He starts to tease you, fucking you a little shallower than before, he knew it’d drive you wild. Calum bites your lip and pulls it between his teeth, you arch your back into him and reach to hold onto anything you can get your hands on.

The tight tug on his hair caused Cal to falter, he was definitely enjoying getting his hair pulled. He sloppily kisses you and his hips to slow, and he almost pulling all the way out every time, and you lose it, “that’s it.” He coaxes. Your nails dig in at his neck and back, teeth sink into his forearm. He continues kissing and sucking your neck. “You feel so good when you cum.” He says before sucking a hickey into your neck. He keeps up his pace, and pretty soon he finishes too.

He pulls out but just collapses on you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, you wrap your arms around him and hold him. “Fuck Hood.” You whisper, kissing the top of his head. “That was better than it ever was with Luke.” You admitted.

“Yeah?” He looked up at you, and he looks wrecked in a way you’d never seen him before. You smile at him and nod, “good because that was probably my favorite as well.”

“You wanna stay tonight? We can do this again later?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yes… let’s move this to the bedroom though.” He agrees, leaning up to kiss you. Cal lifts himself off of you and he grabs his clothes, you get up and also gather your clothes and head to the bathroom to clean up.

Sleeping with cal and only cal was actually kind of a dream. He liked to cuddle and he kept kissing you even though you didn’t expect it, you still enjoyed it.

In the morning he smiles at you, and yeah, morning Cal was great, sleepy eyes and his voice is all gravelly. “You have two choices: we can go for round 2, or, I can take you to breakfast?” He asks.

“Is there a third option that gets me both?” You grin.

“Mmm, we can work that out.” Cal makes room for himself between your thighs, his chest to yours, pressing his lips to yours. “Have I told you you look good in my shirts?” He asks, slightly grinding against you. You giggle and shake your head no.

He begins to kiss you and then his lips are moving south, he pushes your shirt up with his nose as he moves down your body, lips pressing anywhere he can get them. He grabs the sides of your panties and looks up at you, “hips, please.” You oblige and he pulls them down, and off your body. Cal doesn’t wait, doesn’t even tease you, he just dives right in, pushing your thighs apart and going straight for your clit. He knew it’d drive you wild.

“Calum!” You squeak, tugging at his hair. He doesn’t acknowledge you, just works his tongue against you more. It didn’t matter, you still have hickies on your thighs from the last time he went down on you.

“You taste so fucking good. Sometimes I can’t help myself.” He says, drawing your attention back to him, he slips two fingers in and starts working them. And you’re trying to get away from him because it feels too good. Calum wraps his arm around your thigh and goes back to work. He grins as you moan. Cal easily finishes you off, knowing just what he needed to do. He presses his lips back up your body, finally your lips, “I like the way you say my name when you cum.” He kisses you deep. With his lips still pressed to yours, “let’s get showered so we can get food.”

“Need’a minute,” you pant, still coming down.

“I’ll start the shower.” He grins.

When you are sitting at brunch a little bit later you look over to him, “how are you not dating anyone? You’ve been a perfect gentleman since we started hooking up.” You mention quietly.

He thinks on it for a minute, “It’s not easy dating someone when I’m on tour for years at a time. And then there’s always that trust thing, like if you don’t have it then I’m half way across the world thinking she’s fucking someone else and she thinks she knows for sure I’m fucking someone else and it’s not worth the stress… or I haven’t found someone worth the stress.” He explains. In his mind thinking that you’d be worth it, he thought.

“Makes sense.” You nod. Calum’s phone buzzes and you just sit and admire him while he checks it. “Anything important?” You ask.

“Uhhhmm, Ash says there’s a party tonight. You wanna go?” He asks, turning his eyes up to you.

“I’m going with Ash, he asked me earlier this week.” You explain. “I’m sure you could go with us.”

“Nah, you and Ash haven’t spent time together in a while, I’ll just see ya there…” He shrugs.

“Well he’s probably gonna go all dad on me again and talk to me about how weird the threesome situation is.” You laugh.

“Tell him it’s over. Get yourself out of that.”

“But then he’ll find out about th FWB thing and he’ll definitely have feelings about that too.” You sigh and take a big sip of the mixed drink you’d ordered for breakfast.

Cal sighs and shakes his head. “I guess I don’t see why he cares.”

“I don’t think he would except y’all are his friends.” You give him a half smile.

“You have a point. What are you doing till you go see Ash?”

“Umm, I don’t have any plans. Did you wanna hang out for a while?” You ask.

“Absolutely.” He grins.

You and Ashton end up showing up to the party way later than expected, but time had got away from you. You spotted Cal almost immediately and he was just talking with some girls in the kitchen, surrounded by a couple of their other friends. You had to remind yourself you couldn’t be jealous.

You spot some other friends and go chat them up for a while. You were always aware of where Cal was and who was touching him, up until an old friend approached you. You’d always kind of crushed on him and for the first time you were both single, so he was flirty, touching you, and pulling you in.

Cal’s lost sight of you, though you still knew where he was. He spots you from across the room, pressed against a guy. You saw him approach Ashton out of the corner of your eye, with a look on his face you didn’t quite recognize but definitely got the gist of.

“Who’s he?” He asked Ash, looking in your direction.

“I barely met him, but from what I’ve gathered, they have history.” Ash takes a second to fully look at Calum, “Are you jealous?” Ash is almost incredulous. But cal doesn’t answer. “I thought you all were done with the whole threesome thing.” He pulls Cal’s arm so they are out of the center of the room.

Your eyes follow them out of the room. And the guy you’re with notices your attention drawn from him. “Do you need to go check on that?” He asks.

“Yeah, I think so.” You pull away, “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve been preoccupied with him all night.” He lets you go and shakes his head.

“Yeah cool, I’ll catch up with you another time.” You say, leaving him behind.

You find Cal and Ash out back and even just approaching the situation you could tell it wasn’t a good situation. Things looked tense and you almost wanted to turn around.

Ashton runs a hand over his face and he spots you. He waves you out to where him and Cal are and Cal looks frustrated.

“What’s going on?” You ask, joining them and crossing your arms.

“You guys clearly have shit to talk about. I warned you both about this.” Ashton says, clearly frustrated, he points between the both of you. “Work it out.”

“What’s going on Cal?” You ask.

“Who’s the guy you’ve been hanging over all night?” Cal immediately retorts.

You sigh and turn away for a second before turning back. “You don’t get to do this Cal.” You’re a bit distressed. “We agreed on friends with benefits, less than 48 hours ago! What the hell?”

“No… you agreed to that. You never gave me a say. I wanted more, I want more… I have since we were hooking up with Luke… one day he was touching you and i hated it. I knew then.”

“Ohh, you’ve gotta be fuckin kidding me.” You whisper. “Why wouldn’t you say something?!” You ask him. “Instead of just agreeing?”

“I honestly didn’t think you’d turn around and find someone else to go home with the next day… like we just hooked up... this afternoon. I didn’t expect it.”

“I’m FLIRTING Calum, because I can, because you didn’t say anything until now. You don’t get to be mad.” You clap to accentuate your point.

“Well I am mad… and fuckin jealous, ok?! Because I don’t want anyone else to be with you the way I am. I want you, I want us... and that’s it.” He got quieter and moved in closer to you, pulling you against him by your hips, a move you’d love any other time.

“Calum…” You sigh. “Fuck… now? Not 5 months ago when we started hooking up? I didn’t keep doing it because I really love getting railed by two guys every time I wanna get laid…” you pull away. “I can’t… I can’t do this right now.”

so... what did we think?

pt 2  ||  pt 4

[mihanada]

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

(back to masterpost)

The name of this arc is “Poisons”. I don’t like the sound of that...Seems like we’re continuing with the flashbacks. I wonder how far we’ll go into the events up to and including the Sunshot Campaign...

There is a lot to talk about in this chapter!

Chapter 56: Poisons (Part 1)

Ooh, I see how it is. This story is going to troll us about that song’s name until it somehow gets played again in the present day storyline, isn’t it. It served its purpose, I suppose, since he slept through help arriving and carting him back to Yunmeng.

“When he woke up again[...]what he saw was neither the black ceiling of the underground cave nor Lan WangJi’s pale yet handsome face[...]”

I don’t like to make a mountain out of a molehill, but do I sense a tiiny crush here? Yet again, he finds Lan Wangji handsome despite spending 7+ days in a grimy underground cave after slaughtering a giant beast and swimming in its blood. He couldn’t have even used the water to clean himself.

“[...]a funny series of kissing heads[...]”

He probably (hopefully) drew this on his bed when he was younger, as kids tend to do. It suits him, somehow.

Jiang Yanli finally gets a spoken line! She deserves more lines though, how many times has she been mentioned and she never gets to talk at length.

Wei Wuxian’s banter with Jiang Cheng is rapid-fire, jumping back and forth naturally and giving the impression they’ve been through conversations in this style many times before. I like it, it shows how close they were (sob enjoy it while you can before everything goes to hell).

“Wei WuXian realized that he really did forget to count the time needed to get there.”

lol poor Jiang Cheng getting accused for being too slow when he couldn’t possibly drag his ass home and back in that amount of time. xD

Alright, Wei Wuxian keeps talking about his bad memory and such, but at least this time it’s justified. Who wouldn’t be delirious enough to not add correctly after what they went through in that cave?

“But why didn’t Lan Zhan remind me?”

This is funny for some reason. Wei Wuxian is so used to him being the level-headed proper guy so he also expected him to correct him. xD

hahaha my mother recently made something like this lotus root and rib soup. even though it’s summer here. o-o Lotus roots are a strange food (how do you even describe their texture? crunchy, fiber-y, but they’re also soft if you cook them long enough) but they’re very good.

“Where’s Lan Zhan? He’s also been saved, hasn’t he? Is he here? Or did he go back to his sect in Gusu?”

“He went back alone? Over in Gusu, his sect…”

Accordingly with his personality, especially when he was younger, Wei Wuxian asks so many questions one after another.

“Wei WuXian didn’t take the handkerchief. Instead, he pouted his mouth with exaggeration, “Yes!” ”

It’s interesting how he acts even more like a kid than usual around Jiang Yanli. It makes sense, considering where he came from and how he doesn’t remember much about his parents aside from a few words they said to him. Jiang Fengmian and Jiang Yanli were probably the first ones to be kind to him in a long while, and instead of scolding him for acting childish they indulge him. So, naturally he’ll just continue this behavior (even at 17 lol but that’s where his shamelessness comes into play).

“Glancing at the porcelain jar, he seemed as if he wanted to taste it as well, but the bowl had already been taken away by Jiang YanLi.”

loool everyone wants to taste this soup but only Wei Wuxian gets to.

ha, the Wen Sect steals the credit for killing the Xuanwu while Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian try to give each other the credit for killing it. aw, I like what that says about them as people. We explicitly learn that Wei Wuxian doesn’t consider his contribution to be that much. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji’s motive was for giving Wei Wuxian the credit...probably was that without him luring its head out, it wouldn’t have been possible to kill it.

However, without the Lan Sect’s assassination skill, anyone would have been hard-pressed to kill that thing with no proper weapons and it still took 6 hours.

“So it seems that both of you killed it together. What’s yours is yours. Why would you give him all the credit?”

This is also interesting, in line with the above. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are like night and day, it’s easy to spot their differences and how they fill in what the other lacks, but it’s rarer to see their similarities and this is one of them.

“You shouldn’t have played the hero and you shouldn’t have cared for such a hell of a thing.”

I think this is the line Jiang Fengmian feels wasn’t appropriate and not in line with the Jiang sect’s motto “To attempt at the impossible”.

“Since when was it your turn to play the hero?”

Before I launch into the whole complicated family situation, I’ll address these lines first.

This is a very interesting part of Wei Wuxian’s character. It’s not that he tries to be the hero or wants that glory, but he isn’t someone who can stand by and let things be other people’s problems (another similarity to Lan Wangji/the Lan Sect, actually). He does these things because he feels they are right (aka saving Mianmian, helping to hold off the Xuanwu so others can escape) and because no one else is willing to.

“[...]he thought to himself, He couldn’t have dared to do anything to them? That’s not for certain.”

His concern for others shows through here, but also some of his ignorance as a youth. 1) he’s more concerned about others than himself; he thinks that it is a real possibility the Wen Sect could have retaliated against the Lan or Jin Sects, never mind his own self; 2) he doesn’t seem to realize that his actions do have consequences for his sect and this is a very real concern of Madam Yu’s.

Perhaps it’s because he is in an odd position himself. He’s the top disciple of the sect, but also part of the inner circle of the Jiang clan, yet at the same time he is an outsider amongst them. When they bring up how Mianmian might be the daughter of a servant, Wei Wuxian even compares her to his own background as the son of a servant. Also, his “I don’t want others assigning me to other households!” was a sentiment probably born of a bit of pride and a bit of this toxic environment. even though he was adopted by the Jiang clan, he didn’t feel exactly part of them...

His self-identity when he was young is an interesting thing to think about...

“Do you still remember, between the one lying there and the one standing here, which one is your son?”

yikes

This is one woman you don’t want to cross.

“Do you think that anything will change just because you raised your voice?!”

kids, remember – talking louder doesn’t mean you’re more right.

On a serious note, this whole argument, which apparently has been hashed out many times before, gives a good look into the Jiang clan’s dynamics. It’s a tough situation (and a toxic environment). At least now we know where Jiang Cheng’s parenting skills come from (his own father was harder on him than Wei Wuxian, in turn Jiang Cheng also gives Jin Ling a hard time)

Speaking of his father being harder on him, it’s probably as Wei Wuxian observed and tries to assure him (and not Madam Yu’s skewed perspective): his father loves him, but he also is hard on him because he has to raise him as the next sect leader while Wei Wuxian has none of that, plus he’s not his own child but a good friend’s and of course he’ll be more lenient.

Which is actually a good point...Madam Yu works from the idea that Jiang Fengmian sees Wei Wuxian as his own child and favors him over Jiang Cheng and that’s why he’s lenient. But, Wei Wuxian sees it as him being lenient because Wei Wuxian isn’t his own child.

it is sort of an awkward situation isn’t it. Looking from the other side, it’s also easy to see how Jiang Cheng developed those feelings of frustration and believing his own father didn’t love him. From Jiang Cheng’s perspective, he doesn’t see Wei Wuxian as a servant or anything, so to him this preferential treatment means his father favors Wei Wuxian over him.

I like Wei Wuxian’s attempts to cheer Jiang Cheng up and talk him through it though. He’s actually trying to be helpful and his arguments are good.

“So what if there’s the motto?! Do you have to follow it just because it’s a motto? Look at the rules of the GusuLan Sect—there are over three thousand. If people followed every single one of them, would they even be alive at this point?”

lol. just. lol. “would they even be alive at this point?”

I love how he just throws the Gusu Lan Sect out as an example on all points though. xD

“In the future, you’ll be the sect leader, and I’ll be your subordinate, like your father and my father.”

Ah, there it is. Yeah, the discrepancy is here. versus...

“Jiang Cheng, “How can you compare to her? Whose servant is like you, having your master peel lotus seeds for you and boil you soup. I didn’t even get to have some!”

hahaha everyone wants that soup. see, you do have some things in common with your father.

 “I had a perfume sachet somewhere around my waist.”

Ok who can keep up with your thought process? he literally jumps from topic to topic with no transition lol

“Right, we were talking about Lan Zhan.”

like, 10 minutes ago...

ahhh but Lan Wangji’s dad has passed away...eep. Guess that means he didn’t make it home in time...

Wonder what the “Poisons” part is going to mean for the events in this arc though...

(quotes from ExR’s translations)

← back・onward →

[wintermoth]

Rena Knows Best

Merry Christmas @forfuckssakejim​ I’m your Secret Santa this year!!! ( @mlsecretsanta)

I was meant to post this yesterday but this last week has been very turbulent and I wasn’t able to. So, better late than never! This has multiple parts and the rest will come later! I hope you enjoy the hilarity within!!

Warning for everyone: this contains minor spoilers for upcoming characters in season 2+. I say minor cos pretty much everyone knows by now.

Part One: Sweet Summer Kitten

Chat Noir would never admit it aloud for fear of offending their newest heroes but he kind of missed the days when it was just him and his Lady. They had a good thing going, a dynamic duo of comic book proportions, and though Ladybug was adored by many, in a way, she’d been his and his alone. The public only saw them when they wanted to be seen. He’d enjoyed their banter, he’d enjoyed their dynamics, and he’d enjoyed the moments where it’d been just the two of them.

Rena and Bee changed everything.

Chat Noir had no idea who they were under their masks but he knew, without a doubt, that prior to receiving their kwami and Miraculous, each had been die-hard fans of theirs. Or, more specifically, hers. They’d spent the first few weeks fawning over Ladybug every moment they could, to the point where Chat wondered if he honestly had competition now for her affections. Mercifully, she did not seem to share their enthusiastic interest.

At first, Chat Noir had quietly insisted that he and Ladybug do their patrols like normal. Without the new additions along for the ride. She’d gone along with it but had quickly seen through his ruse, which lead to a long, awkward, but necessary talk. He hated admitting that he was jealous, that he was selfish enough to want her to himself, but he swallowed his pride and did it anyway because she was his Lady and she deserved the truth out of him. His heart softened when she confessed that she, too, was struggling to adapt to this.

“They act like they know us,” she muttered, “and it…grates on my nerves. Maybe one day we’ll all be good friends but right now they’re….”

“Yeah.” Chat Noir knew full well what she was experiencing and it was something he had grown used to as a model. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes he would meet people—other young models or fans of his—who would act like they were best friends within five minutes of meeting, simply because they’d read an article about him in a teen magazine. He never knew what to do with himself during those conversations but tried to keep as polite as possible. Now Ladybug was doing the same and neither Rena or Bee seemed to realize they were overstepping their bounds.

“But if I tell them that then they might not…y’know…want to work with us.” She gnawed on her lip. “They’re good, so far. They’ve been a huge help…and we needed them, but…”

“It’d be nice if they stopped being fangirls and realized that they’re strangers?” Chat Noir suggested. She nodded.

Of course, he also knew full well how to remedy the situation. So far, the only times their new companions had only met them in battle. They had yet to see the parts of them reserved for their casual meetups. They only knew the warriors, not the humans beneath the armor. If they wanted them to settle down then that would have to change. He was just loathe to welcome them into something that had always been reserved for just him and Ladybug.

Fortunately, they were of one mind.

He and Ladybug officially met up three nights a week for patrol. Rena Rouge and Queen Bee were invited to one of these nights each and in that order. The third night they went out alone and the next week, they invited both of them to come together.  It wasn’t as bad as they feared. Battles were public spectacles, a song and dance their most avid fans could recognize and join in on as both Bee and Rena had. Patrols were different, private in a way despite their public locations. There was no script for either girl to follow and with the loss of their comfort zone, they calmed, and just as they began to see Ladybug and Chat Noir, Ladybug and Chat Noir began to see them.

Queen Bee was narcissistic (and, really, her name should’ve been a dead giveaway) and she didn’t quite get how to be a selfless hero. She wouldn’t risk her neck to rescue a civilian but focused on their enemy with single-minded determination. She also adored the press…a little too much.

Rena Rouge was reckless and a bit too sporadic. She had a habit of arriving fashionably late to the fight but when she was present, she often took initiative and had a good handle on her powers. However, she was prone to taking her eyes off the enemy and swooping in to rescue civilians at risk to herself. There was definitely a hero complex there.

They needed work, to be sure, but there was room for them to grow and learn. And learn they did.

Ladybug taught Bee how to utilize her suit’s innate athletic capabilities to perform martial arts moves and parkour, to use the battle knowledge stored within the Miraculous from centuries of warriors before her. Chat taught Rena how to run comfortably on all fours and control her ears and tail, both of which were as erratic as she and subject to instinctual movements. There was a certain transparency that came with artificial limbs respond to your thoughts and emotions in an animalistic way.

Of course, there were other lessons they learned on their own, mostly through combat and observation. When to charge in, when to wait, when to trust Ladybug, and when to make a judgement call and apologize later. What made them laugh and what made them uncomfortable, what topics they could broach, what bits of their lives were completely off-limits, what ‘hero perks’ they could partake in.

Most important of all they learned a simple, irrefutable fact that had been speculated by many but never confirmed: Chat Noir was head over heels in love with Ladybug and Ladybug had no flippin’ idea.

No longer were his subtle hints subtle, nor his gestures ignored or missed altogether. No, Rena and Bee (especially Rena) saw everything. Every look, every smile, every stray touch that Ladybug did not move away from, they saw it all. Queen Bee took this development for what it was and Chat Noir was almost certain she pitied him. Rena, however, she schemed. Oh, how she schemed.

“Don’t worry, Chat Noir, I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before,” she assured him with a solemnity usually reserved for veterans recalling former battles. “My best friend has the hots for this guy and is about as obvious as a sledgehammer to the face about it. All the girls in my class know. It’s ridiculous. But he hasn’t got a clue, the poor guy.” She shook her head. “But luckily for you, there’s no way Ladybug can be as dense.”

Chat Noir smiled uncertainly and Rena Rouge threw her arm around his shoulder. “Stick with me, kid, because I’m gonna help you sail this ship.”

“I—wait—what?” he squeaked.

“You’re adorable, oh my God. Okay, look, it’s simple. From what I’ve seen, you’ve been keeping it subtle. Good, okay, fine, that’s a good way to start. You laid the foundations, now it’s time to build on them. In other words, stop trying to clue her in and start sweeping her off her feet.”

“Um…how?”

“Chat…Chat…my darling, innocent Chat…I’m gonna clue you in on something about us girls.” She leaned towards his ear and he thanked his lucky stars that Ladybug was currently running with Bee several arrondissements away. “The fastest way to our hearts is through our hearts.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You have to show her you care about her. That you like her and not her…assets.”

Chat let out an undignified squawk at the implications and felt his face heat up. “I—I do not—for your information I am not—”

Rena cackled with glee and removed her arm from his shoulders, doubling over to hold her stomach. Chat stood there, flustered and confused and more than a little embarrassed. Assets. Assets?! Surely Ladybug didn’t think that he—well, okay, yes, he’d certainly noticed her body before, it was quite hard not to what with that suit of hers accentuating every curve and hiding nothing with its bright red material, and yes, she was beautiful, and yes, he’d felt certain bits of her pressed up against him again before in battle, but he’d never tried to cop a feel or—or…

Rena wiped at her eyes. “This is great.”

“No, it’s not!” he protested. “You just accused me of trying to get into her pants!”

The Fox straightened up, cocked her hip, and put her hand on it. “You wanna look me in the eye and tell me that getting in her pants isn’t a prospect for further down the road?”

What blood had finally retreated from his face returned with speed and vengeance. Well…quite so. He’d certainly fantasized about kissing her more than a few times and…and…

Oh, fuck, she had him.

His shoulders sagged in defeat. Rena winked. “Don’t worry. It’s perfectly normal. You’re a healthy teenager and you’ve got it bad for someone, of course that’s something you want eventually. What matters is that it isn’t your primary goal here. And, pfft, man, after that, literally no one is ever gonna convince me it ever was. Now you just need to prove that to her. Because, dude, let me tell you, guys in general have a reputation for only being after one thing and we girls know it.

“So, you need to show her that you’re interested in her as a person. That you genuinely care. Convince her that you’re in love and not just horny and you’ll be on your way. At the very least, she’ll have to actually consider what you’re offering her. From there, it’ll be up to her to decide if she wants to reciprocate or not.”

Chat Noir looked at her with awe and, if he was honest, a touch of fear. “How do you know so much about this?”

Rena Rouge grinned with all the slyness of her namesake and tossed her fluffy locks over her shoulder. “Oh, my sweet summer child.”

Of course, there was just one little problem in Rena’s grand plan, and it bothered him all the next day.

In the early days, Chat Noir himself had been…how did she put it? As subtle as a sledgehammer to the face. He’d given her little gifts, flirted, even recited poetry. Hell, the only thing he hadn’t done was whisked her off her feet and kissed her. He wasn’t sure how much more obvious he could be apart from flat out telling her she was his sun and moon and he treasured every moment he spent in her presence. …And since that definitely wasn’t an option, he’d tried to be subtler.

“Well there’s your problem!” Rena exclaimed, smacking her forehead. “You romantic dork. You were being too forward with her. Too…silly. Of course she wouldn’t take it seriously, she probably thought you were joking! Especially since you hadn’t known each other for all that long.”

“Yeah, I figured that one out for myself, thanks,” he grumbled, folding his arms.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You’re not hopeless. You just need to find the middle ground.”

“What do you mean?”

“All that stuff you were doing before? Tone it down. This isn’t a cartoon and that kind of stuff doesn’t work in real life. Well, not on most girls and if Ladybug was an exception, you’d already know. She’s much too serious and down to earth for that.”

Chat Noir said nothing. She was right. Man, she was good at this. It was almost hard to remember that Rena hadn’t known either of them all that long. Of course, if she’d been a diehard fan of them, she probably had gleaned plenty of insight from past interviews and things. Combined with what she’d seen in person and her own knowledge of wooing and she was quite a formidable asse—er…ally.

“And…another thing.” Rena’s voice softened. “I know you’ve already thought about this…but there’s only so much the two of you can do without revealing your identities to each other.”

Chat Noir looked away. “The thought’s crossed my mind.”

“You know how seriously she takes being a hero.” Yes, he did, all too keenly. “There’s a very real possibility the two of you can’t happen until Papillon is gone. So, my advice, if you want to really convince her to give you a chance beforehand, you need to show her that you can be sensible about this.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly and nodded. “I get that. That’s…that’s good. I can do that. I think. I just…agh, how?” His hands dropped to his sides and he turned to face her. He didn’t know where this sudden surge of emotion was coming from or why he felt like he could trust her. He’d never had this kind of conversation with Nino before. “I just…I feel so much and I don’t know how to tell her without…going overboard, I guess.”

Rena smiled sympathetically and patted him on the shoulder. “Slow down,” she advised, “and don’t rush things. You’re in for the long haul and there will be plenty of time later to show her how much you love her.”

Chat Noir smiled to himself. He hadn’t told her that he was in love. But if it was really that obvious then how could Ladybug not see? Was Rena perhaps simply more observant?

“For now, take it easy and focus more on showing her your sincerity with smaller gestures. Like…uh…” Rena snapped her fingers. “Christmas! I know it’s weeks away but…never too early to start planning, right? Get her something special.”

Chat Noir considered this. Last Christmas, they’d exchanged presents a few days after the holiday since they’d opted to spend Christmas Eve with their families…and ended up fighting Pire Noel. But it had been pulling teeth just to convince her to do that. He’d been prepared to lavish her with gifts but he knew it would likely make her uncomfortable so he’d limited himself to €50 and tried to keep it as casual as possible.

“Something special, you mean?” he asked.

Rena Rouge nodded. “Something that shows you put thought into buying it, or making it, if you’re that type of person.”

“I’ve got the kwami of Destruction, remember?” He grinned.

“Truedat. So, something that shows you really thought about what to get her and about her. Don’t go too crazy, though. I don’t know how much money you have but, trust me, fancy jewelry is coming on way too strong. Remember: baby steps.”

Chat Noir nodded seriously. Christmas was five weeks away. That was plenty of time to find her something. He could do this. Totally.

…How hard could it be?