#this way if they DO influence my actions you can rest assured i CHOSE to do that

[electroniccollectiondonut]

the fact that i am an abnormally introspective person is frustrating sometimes. like what do you MEAN most people's first response to feeling an emotion isn't to examine why and whether it's rational??

[beca-mitchell]

Pitch Perfect HC, Beca’s actually a closet snuggle monster and Chloe lives for it. But only because she’s the only one that is privy to that side of Beca and it makes her feel special and secure in her relationship cause it’s usually when Beca opens up and let’s Chloe see inside her vulnerable side.

And years later when they’re married and Beca is pregnant with the second child, she snuggles with her pregnancy pillow when she’s alone in bed, but as soon as Chloe comes home, she kicks it away in favour of snuggling with her wife.

The first time Beca cuddles into Chloe's side, they both react to it viscerally. Beca, for her part, doesn't immediately register just what she's doing by leaning into Chloe's side during an impromptu brainstorm-turned-movie night. Chloe, for her part, immediately stiffens and feels her ears grow hot because proximity to Beca has been, well. Hard lately. Difficult. Grappling with the intensity of her feelings for her very taken friend. Very much verging on best friend.

Beca senses the way Chloe stiffens, which is really something that Chloe will forever kick herself over, and quickly sits straight up, yawning and stretching as if that was all she had been doing.

It kind of sticks in Chloe's throat, the assurances and kind words that she's so used to doling out for Beca and to Beca. Physical intimacy is just. It's a lot. Especially for Chloe because it's really one of the most important things. She just never expects it from Beca. Not like this, at least. Not now.

So Chloe doesn't say anything and their night continues.

*

The second time it happens, it's kind of impromptu as well. Near the holidays of Chloe's third consecutive super senior year, they both end up opting to stay on campus. Beca manages to get into Amy's stash of international alcohol and they throw themselves a pity Thanksgiving in Chloe's spacious (and lonely) room. It feels even more empty given that the house is devoid of Bellas and song.

It's much chillier now at the end of November, nearing into December. The low 20s and high 10s of the temperature around them means that Chloe gets to wear all her favourite cardigans and stolen hoodies. Beca seems to just put on more layers - more layered shirts, jackets, some sweaters. Chloe makes a note to get Beca into a holiday sweater as soon as possible.

"What are you looking at?" Beca grumbles, returning from where she's done tinkering with her record player.

"I think we should get the Bellas matching ugly Christmas sweaters this year. I can't believe we haven't done it yet."

Beca's mouth twitches like she isn't sure if she wants to instinctively insult Chloe's fashion choices or immediately give in. A common theme these days as Chloe unlocks more and more of Beca's incredibly soft side. She sighs loudly.

Chloe stifles a grin. "Matching, Bec."

"You know I don't do that. Not even. Well. Whatever. It's kind of lame."

Chloe holds her tongue. Right. Jesse. She's sure Jesse has long come up with ideas to having every conceivable kind of matching couple's outfit. The most Chloe has ever seen Beca wear that has a remote Jesse influence is a red sweater that kind of looks like a Treble sweater, but Chloe hasn't seen it since the very first time she saw Beca wear it.

"Maybe," Beca finally concedes, climbing onto the bed. "Pick a good movie and we'll see."

Chloe grins and presses against Beca's side immediately, pulling her laptop from her. "Christmas movie," she declares.

"It's November," Beca complains.

Chloe wins anyway and she doesn't even recall watching the movie because Beca ends up falling asleep halfway through. Chloe kind of just watches it happen because there is something incredibly relaxing and beautiful about watching the way Beca's brow relaxes all at once and her features smooth out making her look years younger. Like all the tension and stress eases from her the more sleepy she becomes.

This time, when Beca leans into her side, Chloe's ready. It hadn't really happened again since that first time, but God, the way Beca just fits into her side. The way Beca kind of curls a hand loosely over her forearm with the gentlest of tugs. Chloe slowly pulls her arm away, this time putting it around Beca's shoulders. The action itself makes a huge lump stick in her throat—a lump that very much feels like her heart as it threatens to leave her body imminently.

Beca inhales, a short little sound, and Chloe stops. "Sorry," she whispers immediately. "I shouldn't—"

"It's okay," Beca whispers back, voice muted and muffled. "S'comfy."

Friends do this. It's okay.

*

Chloe thinks Beca looks beautiful always, but especially now.

"You can see the bump," Beca says absentmindedly, lifting her shirt in front of the mirror. Their trip to the doctor was exciting. The knowledge that this is really happening for them; finally happening for them—Chloe could cry.

"You're showing," Chloe echoes, standing from the bed. She wants to reach out and touch Beca, but she isn't even sure where to start.

"I didn't even realize until the doctor pointed it out today."

"Neither did I," Chloe admits quietly, wondering if it makes her a bad wife. Not noticing that the love of her life had been undergoing some serious bodily changes to begin welcoming the newest member of their family into their lives. She finally moves to stand behind Beca, hooking her chin over her shoulder, smiling when their eyes catch in the mirror. "You look so pretty."

"You have to say that, we're married. What happens when I look like a whale?"

"You'll always look beautiful to me," Chloe declares, kissing Beca's cheek repeatedly when Beca frowns at Chloe's response.

Beca moves Chloe's hand to rest more firmly against her belly. "What if you can't hold me like this later?"

Chloe hums. "Nothing would stop me from cuddling with you."

"But what if your arms can't even come around me," Beca complains, a hint of a whine seeping into her voice. "And then you grow tired of trying to hug a balloon."

"You'll have to figure out a way to pry me off you over these next months. Trust me." Chloe makes sure to kiss a spot on Beca's neck that she knows drives her crazy. "I'm going to be all over you. In more ways than one." Another kiss. She catches the blush on Beca's cheeks. "I always knew you liked my cuddles."

Beca sniffs haughtily. "And?"

She hasn't quite brought it up to Beca, even after all their years together, but it still delights Chloe to no end that Beca chose this with her. That Beca chooses her every day. That Beca trusted her all those years ago, even when they hadn't really been anything.

"And nothing," Chloe finally says. "I just love you the way you are."

*

In all their years together, Chloe can't recall Beca ever choosing to cuddle with somebody over her. She hadn't even really contemplated it because it had quickly become their thing.

She knows that Beca doesn't do it with just anybody. In fact, Chloe's about 99% sure that Beca has never cuddled or snuggled with anybody else in her life.

But this—

Chloe doesn't even say anything at first because her heart catches in her throat. Beca's cheek rests ever so slightly on top of their son's fuzzy little head, her eyes half-closed, but still alert enough to ensure she doesn't loosen her hold or drop him. She hums ever so slightly, her movements slight and gentle as to not wake him.

Chloe kind of doesn't want to say anything—wants to let this night continue just like this. The sheer tranquillity and safety around them because of all the love she feels for her wife and her son—it's irreplaceable.

Beca's eyes lift then, catching hers from where she stands in the doorway. "C'mere," Beca murmurs, brow furrowing when Chloe hovers in the bed. "Bed feels empty without you."

Chloe doesn't hesitate then, only wanting to enjoy a mid-evening snuggle with her family knowing there must be many more to come.

[demonslayedher]

Sorry to hear about the practice test! Honestly, those details sound ridiculous. I hope you're remembering to take breaks and stay well hydrated ^^

While I'm here, I wanted to ask you what you thought about Muzan and Rui's relationship. Personally, I feel Muzan might have had a soft spot for him because they both grew up sick. I wish we could have seen Muzan interact with the Lower Moons (and others in general). But in another reality where we did get such fleshed out relationships, what do you think it'd be like?

Thank you, I agree, this nerd test is a bit ridiculous, but I am a bit ridiculous. And hydrated now, thank you! As for Muzan having a soft spot for Rui, I am so here for this interpretation. (And I have drawn silly interactions for them before, tee hee hee.)

A lot of people have pointed out that Muzan may have felt sympathy for Rui due to also having been born sickly, though I have analyzed Muzan as only being able to see his own interests and therefore may not had pitied Rui, persay. However, that clear aversion to disease, and Muzan's (perhaps frequent) offer to give dying people a way to overcome it, has also led me to think that Muzan & Yushiro could had gotten along really, really well if Muzan had gotten to Yushiro before Tamayo did. Muzan does, after all, have likes and dislikes among his demons (some clear favoritism is at play with demons who are obedient or useful or stroke his ego in whatever way suits his mood), especially the ones with the highest concentration of his blood, the Twelve Moons. A factoid from the first fanbook tells us:

"Muzan was the one who named the Twelve Moon demons. He's been searching for someone with cells capable of mastering the sun, so he's generally been looking for people with qualities to their blood and body types different from the demons he's made so far, but he also wants strong demons, so he tends to aim for people with similar physicality to the demons who managed to become Upper Moons."

It's a little ambiguous whether that simply means he came up with the "Twelve Moons" term (which I find obvious that he would had been the one to do that), or if he personally gave names to the demons who were powerful enough for him to pay any attention to them. With that being the case, it's interesting to see where he chose to change someone's name and where he didn't, like, "Ume? No. We'll call her Daki. Excuse me, did I hear you talking back, what is your name? Gyutaro? Oh, that's funny, I like that, you can keep that," or "Michikatsu? Ha. No. You're Kokushibo now. Glad you like it." Rui, however, still has the name his parents called him. And, Rui initially got to keep living his somewhat normal life with them until it came crashing down, and Muzan came to collect him. When Muzan meets Rui, he's all alone, dressed in Western attire. He would have long established his Twelve Moons by then, however many rounds the Lower Moons have already been through. If we read into Tamayo's comments about how she wanted to live long enough to see her children grow old, we might guess that she was also sick, and Muzan has turned sick people into demons before. He tends to lose interest in turning certain types of people into demons once he sees what happens, like how one experiment with a Breath user was enough to satisfy him, and one attack on a charcoal-raising family was enough to see if that would be what it takes to master the sun. There wouldn't have been much incentive to enter the room of a sick little boy, all alone, especially one who he intends to leave there with the rest of his family unscathed. All he says is, "How pitiful. I'll save you." And maybe, maybe he really only meant to do that. If that's the case, my bet is that it was a passing whim, not a strong pull to this boy, but then when it didn't pan out, he felt he had to go back and finish what he started. After all, that boy did become a strong demon, he was useful. So strong, in fact, that it wouldn't had made sense for him not to be one of the Twelve Moons, however low his position. Rui didn't have much ambition in the first place, and he and Muzan both seemed pleased with the stagnant Lower Moon Five position for him. Rather than put pressure on him like he put on the other Lower Moons, he gave Rui leniency to share his unique demon cells (something which could potential lead to a demon gaining influence against Muzan), and allowed him to keep playing house. After all, as much as Muzan might not care about things like family or weak human parents, he might recognize that his actions were what led to Rui losing what he cared about more than having a strong body. It's unlikely Muzan would had seen anyone else in the same light he saw himself even if he did see similarities between his past and Rui's; Rui is like a stray pet he took responsibility for.

This is really uncharacteristic of Muzan. He probably wouldn't have been open to anyone questioning his oddly merciful treatment of Rui, so when Rui's defeat upset that untouchable balance, that may have been part of why Muzan reacted so strongly. It was preemptive, so that no one would dare to think Muzan ever had tolerance for an unambitious demon. And if there was affection, Muzan probably doesn't even realize it. As for Muzan getting along with his moons in another reality, I still think he'd treat them all as dispensable tools, like in the 4-panel comic of Muzan telling Gyokko to go something and Gyokko laughs along with him like, "oh, but I'll be killed!" and Muzan's like, "yeah, I don't care" and Gyokko is all, "........" What I would love is a modern day AU in an office setting where all the Lower Moons are there and Muzan is the boss. There's office cliques and gossip and antics on the company clock and then as soon as they start getting unruly Muzan makes a threat to fire them and everything goes quiet again. Kokushibo and Nakime are pretty assured of job security, and even if he doesn't give him unearned promotions or anything like that, everyone notices that the boss speaks in an oddly kinder manner to the quiet boy with the moles who stays to himself in his cubicle of family photos.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Choices you (and us) stand by (Platonic)

Requested Imagine - An operation that brings you back home after being cleared is met by some resistance. But, your friends are there to help.

You had been in the hospital for a bit now. You had been resting, but your friends had made an effort to see you when Malivore wasn’t spitting out monsters.

You appreciate it, really. You really did like seeing your family.

Plus, you felt better with this operation. And they had supported you the whole way, even going with you when the operation came.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw Lizzie smiling at you. You ignored the slightly creepy factor, and just smiled at her, “Hey.” You greeted, voice still groggy from not fully being awake yet.

“Hey back,” She said back. You heard her happiness, and your smile grew; she was doing better, it seemed. You were happy for her, really.

And, by the shine in her eyes, you saw that her feelings for you were vice versa. She saw how much more comfortable you looked now.

“Dad and the others would’ve come. But –”

“Malivore?”  You guessed, “Look, Liz. It’s cool, I get it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. But, I needed this. I know not everyone is, but I don’t think Malivore would go that low. If they did, I know I’m happy with it.”

Lizzie nodded, but didn’t answer your guess. She just held out a hand, “Doc says it’s time to go. So, what you say, ready to go home?”

You looked at your friend, and smiled hugely this time, “Ready.” You confirmed, taking her hand.

The drive back wasn’t too long, but it was filled with idol chatter about what you had missed. It wasn’t too much, just the norm.

What you knew, and what Lizzie told you, was that Hope had redone your room for you. You knew your sister would do a lot for you, but you didn’t expect that.

“And, here we are.” Lizzie announced as she parked the car. Together you got out. And, as expected, there was your two other sisters awaiting you with a little banner in their hands.

You smiled, and the Josie used a spell to keep the banner up as they hugged you, minding to not rip any stitching.

“Wow, you look great.” Josie complimented as she pulled away from the hug.

“Yeah, you look amazing, Y/N.” Hope agreed, beaming smile on her face. It was unusual for her, but she mainly reserved it for you. And she knew this was a big moment.

“Where’s Alaric?” You asked, wondering where your father figure was.

That made the smiles dim, “What?” You asked, looking between the two. With Lizzie being next to you, you missed how she also looked between the pair in alarm.

“You didn’t sort it?” Lizzie asked through clenched teeth. When she didn’t receive an answer, she stormed inside.

“What’s going on?” You asked your two remaining friends. They shared a side glance, not sure on how to say it.

“Not…not everyone was…positive about it.” Josie said, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“…Oh.” Hope heard the voice tremble, and was quick to put a hand on your arm.

“Hey, it doesn’t reflect on all of us, ok? It’s just a minority. I’m sorry.” She said, seeing how deflated you looked.

“It’s not your fault.” You assured Hope. Both your smiles were dejected and sombre.

It was Josie who then spoke up, “Why don’t we go inside get you to your room?” She offered her arm for a loop, you obliged with the want and were on your way.

You weren’t even if it for two seconds before Lizzie barged in, a pissed off expression clear on her face.

“What is it?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“They know you got back,” At those words, Josie and Hope came to stand by you as they looked to Lizzie; their question was one you didn’t understand.

Whatever it was, Lizzie shook her head before looking at you with a smile, “I’ll be right back. Rest of the squad is looking for hobbit, but I got this. You just relax, Y/N.” Lizzie told you, before she left the room.

“Come on, sit. We’ll help you set up.” Hope said, sitting on said bed and patting the spot next to you.

You sat.

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

“I meant what I said before, you look great.” Hope said as the three of you had moved to laying down at the top of the bed; you in the middle and two of your sisters on either side of you. They were both on their sides, facing you, with you looking up at the ceiling.

“You don’t need to keep saying that.” You laughed through your words softly. Hope’s smile grew. She was happy you were happy and allowing yourself time to recover.

“How many disagreed with it?” You asked. That created a lull in the conversation; an uncomfortable atmosphere there.

Lizzie, in any other situation, would’ve probably been more worried about how this would go. Despite the small groups, there were more of them than there was of her. But, in this moment, she didn’t care. To be honest, it went against what the school was about –

Acceptance. And they just seemed to be the anti-all of that despite their own differences.

The levels of irony was not lost on her. In fact, if anything, it was what drove her on further.

“Hey, asshats!” She called out to them. They turned, one even opened their mouths to talk.

That was quickly stopped by a quick silencing spell by Lizzie. She was talking, and they were sure as hell going to listen, “I get that you all are going through your edge grunge phase, but you do know that Y/N is an actual person, right? They chose this, and all you had to do was allow it and move on. I mean, you guys are with Josie, even if she’s just here on visit I haven’t seen one comment against her…”

“I just…I can’t describe it, but –”

“It’s euphoric?” Josie asked, your head then turned to her.

“In a way. I feel…I guess that, yeah. But, I mean, those out there…”

“Ignore them.” Hope said without missing a beat.”

“I can’t, Hope. You know how they stare and whisper. I’m not changing it back. I just…I don’t know…” You trailed off, not sure how to fully get your point across.

“You remember when you came out to mum and dad?” The question got both you and Josie sharply looking at you; it was rare for her to ever bring up your deceased parents. A sore spot for you both.

“You remember what she said?” You nodded, yet your sister continued, “’Ok, honey. I’m just glad you’re being you.’” You gulped as she then said, “And dad. God, dad was so proud, ‘I’m proud of you little one, for being true to yourself. No one can take that from you, ever.’”

“No one can or will. Not as long as we and you have someone to say about it.” Josie concluded, holding one of your hands in her own; it didn’t break you and Hope’s stare however. Josie respected that, it was a big thing to talk about your parents.

 “…And I get that my dad is away, but that doesn’t mean you have to come and ruin this for my friend who has been nothing but kind to all of you. And, what? One little change and choice and suddenly they’re dead to you? This school was built for acceptance, not hatred or anarchy or rebellion.” Lizzie was just getting more and more frustrated; more and more angry; more and more defensive.

Some of the group even looked ashamed. Her words were working. They were changing their minds.

Then, some of those faces shifted again. And she turned to see what had caused it.

It was you, with Hope and Josie stood next to you as a united front.

She wasn’t done, but it seemed that the crowd she had riled up were getting antsy again.

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

The spell had worn off, and there were words. There were a lot of words. You had seen Lizzie hateful before, but this was something else.

You heard the words they used to almost try turn it on her, say that she was relapsing. Say that this was why, that she was losing control. They tried to make themselves the victims. They were the ones under attack, not you. Why would it be you? In their minds, as of right now, that seemed to make no sense.

They then saw Josie. They saw how she was doing better at Mystic Falls High and almost happy and content with herself. They blamed it on Josie, that the girl had someone influenced her sister into this; a kind coercion of sought. They brought up the black magic saga she had gone on. Seemed Lizzie was wrong, they hadn’t fully moved on, they just instead waited for the right time to strike with their words.

Oh, and try they did. They swore, cursed – seemed Alaric being gone for the time being really made them go more off the rails than this “protest” already was – hell, one even tried to attack Josie, had Hope not thrown him back.

Josie had backed up in fear, but also moved a bit in front of you; just in case.

Then there was Hope, the oldest of the Mikaelson siblings; the one that mirrored Klaus more and more every day more than you ever would.

They tried to provoke her. They tried to make it seem like it was her fault for your actions, as if she – like they had accused Josie of with Lizzie – swayed you into this decision. Hope knew it made no logical sense, but she was already growing more and more pissed, nails digging into her skin.

Hope knew that, if she needed another forest screaming session, this would have to wait. And there would be a lot more trees knocked down this time because of it.

Then. Then they made a mistake.

They looked at you.

They looked at you, the whole reason they had banded together.

The whole reason Lizzie had gone after them.

You.

To you, it was just noise. Your ears were ringing as you tried to remember the words Josie and Hope had given you before, along with the other affirmations your parents had given you.

Your friends had been there every step of the way. They had tried to do what they could. And now you had done and all they wanted was to help celebrate it and help you settle back into your life at the school.

Now though, now you were just being yelled at. You saw your friends look to you, and you saw the concern on their features as your eyes did fill with tears. But you also felt the hurt and pain inside, and how that morphed into two things; fight or flight.

As the leader of the group got closer to you, Hope was quick to fling him back.

As you heard what you didn’t doubt was a fight ensuing, you chose flight.

 You ran into Alaric’s office, glad for once that he was gone. You didn’t need him right now. Well, you did, but –

You knew you needed what had been done. You knew it, that was why you had it done. You knew you had support and you knew that not everyone would.

You just didn’t expect it to be so…extreme.

Maybe you could transfer along with Josie, maybe there they would –

“Y/N?” A voice asked. You turned, seeing the three at the entrance to the office, Josie and Lizzie with a cut and bruise or two, but nothing major.

Still –

You sat in the chair, face in your hands. You heard feet shuffle, a chair scrape, and someone grunt a bit as they sat on a table – as you heard papers being shuffled.

You felt someone put their hands on your shoulders, trying to massage them as best as she could.

“I’m sorry.” You said in utter despair, “I didn’t mean to –”

“You didn’t cause anything. Those guys were just assholes for the sake of it.” Lizzie was blunt, and used more colourful language, but it was what you loved about her.

You felt two hands grab both of yours and hold them in the gap between you and them, “They just can’t accept it. But, we’ve got your back on this. On anything. You deserve to be and look the way you want.” That was Josie.

So that meant – “I think I speak for all of us, when I say that we’d do it again.”

“You helped me out of my subconscious, helped me find my strength. And, if I’m honest, I’m jealous, Y/N, you took a stand for what you wanted and went for it.” You opened your eyes when Josie had stopped talking, seeing her soft face and gentle smile on her lips.

You sniffled a bit, looking to Lizzie, who rolled her eyes half heartedly but nodded with a smile.

Hope then moved out in front of you, “What do you say? You ready?” She asked, holding out a hand for you.

“Ready.” You confirmed, holding her hand and leaving with your three sisters.

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You got more smiles than you expected, but you smiled back as you all went back to your room. It  had been a day, even before this conflict, and you definitely needed your rest now.

You all made idol chatter as you went. Most of it about the school and Malivore, but you were calmer now. You were freer with each other.

It was like nothing had changed.

However –

“There they are, Doctor Saltzman.” One of the old group said as Alaric followed her, she even pointed to you as if he needed to know for sure.

Alaric looked to you four for an explanation.

As the other three went to speak, you put your hand up. They paused, looking to you. You gave them a smile, and went over to Alaric as the three trailed behind you.

“Doctor S, I’m sorry for the fight that happened. I didn’t want it to turn into a scrap. It was just a group of people not really liking what I’d done. But, to be honest, I didn’t really see how it effects them at all. All it did is help me and do good. I don’t see the bad. But, I am sorry for the fight.” You said, as calmly as you could.

Alaric nodded, “Thank you, Y/N. There’s gonna be some cleaning needed, but we’ll figure all that out after. I’m just glad you’re ok.” He said with a smile. With that, he passed you and went to the office, with the student following, this time in a sombre way.

You looked back at the three, who all smiled at you, “Come on, let’s go back. You’ve had a long day.” Hope offered, holding out her hand.

“I’ll go get the ice-cream.” Lizzie said, Josie going with her to help with the bowls.

You took your sisters hand, going back to your room.

Sure, there would always be naysayers about your choice. But, who were they to judge? They weren’t you.

The school was built on acceptance, not hate. And you were sure Alaric was going to instil it in that student or have them leave.

But, to you, you just felt better.

You felt at home, both internally and externally.

You let out a breath of content.

[alj4890]

I have an ask. We know in TRR Book 3 Ch10 Drake is the one being challenged by Neville but what if The King is the one to challenge Neville? After all he’s the one that would talk down to Riley during book 3 and nit once did Liam stand up for her during those times? So I wonder if Liam knew what Neville had said to his future Queen what would his reaction would be. I feel at least that Riley had the choice to punch him! Lol

A/N: Okay, seriously. WHY didn't all the other love interests tell Neville off?! He even annoyed Olivia with his pouting and whines. I get the tension between him and Drake and all; but Neville was talking bad behind Liam's back about his choice to elevate MC to becoming a duchess regardless of whether or not she was engaged to Liam. He was such a jerk to Hana and who in their right mind could be mean to her??? As protective and sacrificial as Maxwell was, (he did show getting ticked off whenever Neville opened his mouth), why wasn't there a dance fight between the two🤣 Now that my mini rant is over, let's see what would happen if Neville pushed Liam too far.

Masterlist

@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg

Too Far

It wasn't noticeable at first.

He even somehow managed to make friends.

Neville had a way that made him appear as the perfect example of a gentlemanly noble. His cultured tone uttering compliments and his ability to appear humble before his betters had assured his place within Cordonia's high society. Being heir to an earldom and not too horrible to look upon also set him up in life to have a variety of ladies to choose from.

Or so he believed.

When Prince Leo abdicated, the nobles of Cordonia were actually laughed at by the rest of the world. The teasing began with mere good natured ribbing at parties of how unfaithful a Cordonian must be.

It was enough to sour any disposition, especially one that was already so.

Neville Vancoeur kept his noble mask firmly in place. Nothing was going to stop him from his destiny.

Nothing. No one. 

But the newest crown prince was best friends with, it was disgusting simply thinking of the word, a commoner. A commoner! What noble much less a direct descendant of the king himself would ever align themselves with someone who was absolutely worthless

Yet, the embarrassment that was Prince Liam didn't end there. He then went on to favor a poor waitress from America of all places. A waitress. He redeemed himself in Neville's eyes when he chose Countess Madeleine Amaranth of Fydelia to be Cordonia's queen. Though he didn't quite understand why the normally shrewd countess would allow the waitress to travel with the nobility, perhaps it was to give Drake Walker a playmate (one has to entertain pets, he supposed) he accepted it as a way to appease the people they ruled over.

Then New York happened. King Liam threw aside a well respected, birthed to perfection noble for that mongrel American who did not possess the first clue of how to behave amongst Cordonia's elite court.

Neville would have found it humorous if he was not permanently tied to his country.

To top it all off, not only was he forced to endure such unworthy company, he was shamed in front of them by some minor noble who had failed to win Liam. He blamed that brief moment of weakness for finding Lady Hana attractive on being inadvertently influenced by what had to be Drake and Riley's baser inclinations.

There was only one action left to a man so much more above these lowly peasants.

He was going to have to put these people in their proper place.

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

Liam knew that some of his fellow nobles took their positions as some sort of right in lording over those they considered their inferiors. It had never sat easy with him. He himself had a mother who had been a, "simple commoner". Yet, being in the tenacious situation he was in as a new king, he had to ignore for the most part their rude behavior.

But there was only so much he could stand when it came to the one he loved.

He knew something was going on the night of Madeleine's ball. As he stood on the other side of the ballroom, listening to Duke Godfrey drone on and on, he noticed Drake bump into the future earl. He knew there were very few nobles his best friend respected so seeing the flash of anger was normal.

Riley's though was surprising.

That unusual bitter twist to her normal, friendly smile followed by what he could only assume were heated words between his love and Neville made him feel the need to rush over and place himself between them. That desire to protect Riley was so strong that his body had already turned to leave Godfrey mid sentence.

But then Neville walked away.

Maxwell's brief sadness followed by Hana's irritation had him focusing once more on Riley's anger turning to resigned acceptance. Her relaxed stance returned as his group of friends found a table to sit and enjoy their meal.

He knew then that he would need to keep an eye on Lord Neville for the rest of the Unity Tour.

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

It didn't surprise him at all the insults and tension between Drake and Neville during the charity polo match. Liam felt sorry for Rashad and Maxwell being stuck on their team and forced to work with the two men that seemed to truly despise one another.

Liam also felt a large bit of pride when Riley used Neville's refusal to pass to Drake to score.

He also was relieved that Neville had not turned his disdain toward her.

Perhaps he was beginning to respect his future queen.

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

It shouldn't have affected Liam like it did. Maybe it was the fact he was under so much pressure from keeping his father's cancer hidden, the fear from hearing he had been rushed to the hospital, all the terrorist attacks and threats, and then having to focus on pampered nobles instead of actually running his kingdom that caused him to lose his last shred of patience.

This ball was one that he had looked forward to. It would be the first of his escorting his Riley before the court. He had waited so long for such a moment to show his world how proud he was to have won her heart.

And Neville had to ruin it during their first dance.

The heated exchange of words escalated when Riley jumped in to defend Drake. Liam could see the utter hatred and lack of respect Neville had for the two people he was closest to. The way the young lord talked down to his beloved sent a bitter resolve through Cordonia's king.

"I've had enough of your insolence!" Neville snapped.

Liam saw his hand reach for his pocket and begin to withdraw a white glove. Before he could think through what he was about to do, he slapped Neville with the back of his hand, cutting short the challenge the lord was about to issue to Drake.

The entire court gasped. Silence fell as all watched this rare occurrence of Liam losing his temper.

"I've had enough of your insolence." Liam bit out. "Lord Neville, I challenge you to a duel."

Neville paled. His eyes darted around the ballroom, searching for anyone who might possibly be on his side. Seeing no sympathy, his chin lifted.

"I accept." His voice cracked slightly.

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

"Liam, why are you doing this?" Riley gripped his hand as they walked out to the courtyard.

"I'm tired of his attitude." Liam explained. "Especially around you."

"I can handle his snide remarks." She countered. "What I can't handle is the thought of you possibly getting hurt."

Liam paused and slipped his arm around her waist. "You don't think I can take him?"

She smiled, looping her arms around his neck. "I know you can." She snared him with a tender kiss. "Just make it fast. There's a certain king I want to slow dance with."

His lips curved once more before turning toward the growing crowd. "As my queen wishes, so it shall be."

With a wink to her, he removed his sword from its sheath with a dramatic flourish.

Her delighted laughter followed him as he faced his opponent.

Neville swallowed uncomfortably as Constantine laid out the rules for the duel.

He barely managed to block Liam's blows, footsteps retreating most of the time. His lip curled into a snarl when the new king sliced into his blazer.

"My lady was right," Liam taunted, "that is a dreadful dinner jacket."

Neville's cheeks burned when those watching nearby chuckled. Each time he tried to make an offensive strike, Liam not only blocked it but somehow turned it into a point in his favor.

At one point they locked swords. Neville hated he had to tilt his head up to meet Liam's eyes. He hadn't expected to see the coldness there.

"You will apologize to Riley and Drake." Liam commanded in a low tone. "You will also never speak to either of them with such disrespect again."

"Why should I?" Neville breathed. "They need to learn to respect their betters."

"Really?" Liam's tone held a sinister edge. 

With an elegant spin that happened in the blink of an eye, he knocked his opponent’s sword out of his hand, caught it in mid air with his free one, and had both blades crossed with Neville's neck in the middle.

"Well done!" Constantine cheered from the sideline.

Riley let out a whoop as she hurried over to Liam's side. 

"Wasn't there something you wished to say to her grace, Lord Neville?" Liam asked

Neville's ready sneer died when he felt a slight nick to his tender skin.

"Forgive me, your grace." He managed to say without choking. "I will remember my manners when next we meet."

Riley gave a regal nod of acceptance.

Liam lowered the swords. "You're dismissed."

Neville scurried through the amused crowd, keeping his eyes downcast.

Riley yanked Liam into a passionate kiss once all the compliments were given and the crowd dispersed.

"My lady?" He asked with a grin. "What brought that on?"

"Nothing except my impressive Prince Charming fighting for me." She responded. "Perhaps he would like to find somewhere more private where I can better express my admiration."

"As you wish." He handed his swords to a servant as the couple sneaked away for a moment alone.

[crookswithbooks]

Never the Favorite

Day Five - Declan has always hated the holidays but when Ronan brings a new person into the chaos of their lives he finds himself learning to finally appreciate them.

Declan had never liked the winter.

For as long as he could remember, the entire winter/Christmas season served only to be a nightmare and constant reminder of how estranged their family truly was. When they were younger and Niall was still alive, things had gone smoother but there will still small little inordinacies that you would find if you were willing to look close enough. Whether it was the tree that lit up despite having no visible lights, or the way he was often called away for “business reasons”, there was always something that gave away how different they really were.

Then, after Niall had died, Christmas had only worsened. Ronan was angrier now, less manageable, and Matthew would question why they didn’t have so-and-so decorations that year, or why whoever’s present showed up weeks after the actual date of Christmas. Pulling their family together for the holidays felt more like a chore than a vacation nowadays, and on top of school and dealing with Niall’s messy seconds from the fairy market, Declan didn’t have the energy or time for it. The return of January was always a relief.

This year, however, they had Adam with them. Declan had planned on just Matthew and him for this year, deciding he would skip the obligatory invite that Ronan had ignored for years. Instead, it was Ronan who approached Declan, asking about what their plans for Christmas were. 

“I figured we would just have a small celebration,” Declan had replied skeptically, unsure where this was going but not foolish enough to get his hopes up. “Just family.”

Even as he had said the words, they had been hollow in his mouth. “Family” really meant Matthew and him, something that had been understood for years now. Now though, he decided to stick with the vague term.

“I’m going to bring Adam,” Ronan said as fact, ignoring the fact that Declan had said just family and that Ronan didn’t come to Christmas anymore. He had already walked away before Declan could even attempt to reply.

Now Declan found himself standing at the kitchen counter of the Barns, a tray of cookies on one side of him and hot chocolate that burbled in a pot on the stove on the other. He had been up since five in the morning preparing the abandoned space for guests, and now, five o’clock on Christmas Eve, he exhaustedly finished the last of the tasks he had set for himself. Matthew had been recruited to help out at first until it was revealed that Matthew’s method of helping out was singing Christmas carols and undoing all the work Declan had put time and effort into. He had quickly been removed from helping after that.

Ronan was on Adam duty and was currently picking him up from Stanford. The two should be on their way home about now. Declan had been skeptical about Adam at first, the one person aside from Gansey and Matthew that Ronan had chosen to let into his heart. He had been worried that Adam would break the shakily taped together pieces that made up Ronan and that Declan would have to put him back together after Adam left as he had when Niall had died—not that he had done a very good job of it then. Once he saw the way Adam looked at Ronan, however, like a starving man gazing upon an unexpected feast, he allowed himself to relax a little. Adam loved his brother, that much was clear, and he made him happy. Declan hadn’t seen Ronan happy in so long that he almost hadn’t recognized it when it surfaced.

Now he wasn’t worried Adam would break Ronan. He was worried he would destroy him.

The knock at the door signaled the arrival of the couple in question. Declan smiled, knowing that the courtesy of knocking was Adam’s doing; Ronan hadn’t knocked on any door since he was five. He smoothed out his suit, a gentle gray that Matthew said made him look like a corpse and Ronan said made him look like a douche. He turned off the heat on the stove, whirling around the corner and opening the door.

One of Ronan’s hands was placed securely on Adam’s hip, the protective curl of his fingers a warning sign to anyone who would raise an objection. Adam’s head was turned partway towards Ronan, his lips open on an unspoken sentence, but he cut himself off when he noticed Declan.

“Oh,” Adam said, the word perfectly formed. “Hey.” He glanced up and down at Declan, an involuntary action, and frowned a little. “I didn’t realize it was a formal occasion.”

“It’s not,” Ronan interjected before Declan could say anything. He himself was dressed in a rumpled jacket and jeans that were torn from years of Gansey and he’s excursions. He was wearing neither a hat nor gloves, though Declan noticed the near imperceptible shiver caused from their absence. Adam was wearing a leather jacket that, instead of dwarfing his small frame as it would have a year ago, fit snugly around his torso. He seemed almost more grown-up than when he had left for college, and Declan could see from the way that Ronan stared at him that he had noticed too.

“Matthew’s upstairs,” Declan said, stepping aside to let them inside. “I’ll go grab him. Dinner should be ready soon, I’m just finishing up the last little touches. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

“It is my home, dickweed,” Ronan muttered, only to have Adam’s elbow dig gently and discreetly into his ribs. Ronan elbowed him back, but the gesture was affectionate without any real malice. The two made their way into the kitchen, bickering all the way.

Upstairs, Matthew was staring out his window. His attention was held by the snow falling in soft spirals to the ground, some of it pasting against the window. He held his hand up to it, so that each one of his fingertips was touching a different snowflake. Declan watched him for a moment before coughing, knocking on the doorframe. “Adam and Ronan are here.”

Matthew didn’t look away from the window, though his hand fell limply onto his lap. “I don’t want to have Christmas this year.”

Declan paused. Since the moment he was born, Matthew had been Declan’s to look after, a precious new baby brother, a dream in the form of a boy. Whenever Matthew had a problem it was Declan who fixed it, quickly and unquestionably because the reality of Matthew’s pain was one he never wanted to face. When Niall died, Declan had been there to curb the storm. When Aurora came back, Declan was content to sit back and let Matthew have a mother again. When Aurora was gone he was also the first to come to his side. He gave Matthew everything he wanted because when Matthew was smiling he was happy and when Matthew was happy Declan could be okay.

Now though, he felt his stomach clench unpleasantly and he dropped his hand from the doorframe. He sat down next to Matthew, the mattress creaking under the combined weight, and stared out the window with him. “Why not?”

“Because I’m a lie,” Matthew said, and with those simple words the world shattered around Declan. “I don’t even know if I like Christmas or if that was just something that was programmed into me. What if all the happiness I’ve felt with you and with dad and with Ronan was just a fairy tale that you guys let me live? What if none of it was ever real?”

The only one who hadn’t known Matthew was a dream had been Matthew himself, and it was a secret that the two brothers had kept for seventeen years. Both of them had agreed that the information was something that Matthew was better off not knowing—it was about the only thing they did agree on. Unfortunately, secrets are only kept for so long, especially when they relate to the person in question. Declan had never seen Matthew as desolate as he had been that day on the dock when he first found out about his true identity, and he had promised that he would never let him look that way again.

It was a promise that he realized now, looking at the pinch between Matthew’s eyebrows and his bitter frown, that he had failed.

“None of it was a lie,” Declan said after a moment, unable to look at Matthew as he spoke. “Ronan can’t influence your decisions. He only brought you into creation, like a mother would.”

“But that’s not how his dreams work,” Matthew protested. “A mother doesn’t get to choose her child—Ronan chose me. He…” He struggled for a moment to find the right words to explain and Declan waited with a growing sense of unease. “He picked my eye color and the shape of my hair and the fact that I’m happy and that you’re not and that I love him and that you don’t—”

“I love him,” Declan interrupted, Matthew’s words hurting more because he could tell he meant them. “Why would you say I don’t love him?”

“You’re always fighting,” Matthew muttered, picking at a scab on his arm. “And yelling at each other. The only time you ever talk to each other is because of me. I know that. I’m not that dumb. And I say I love him all the time. You never say that you do—not once.”

From downstairs, Declan could hear the clattering of plates that meant Ronan and Adam had started to set the table, and the soft murmuring of voices. He forced himself to look at Matthew, needing him to understand him, needing this Christmas to be a good one because if it wasn’t it meant that they truly could never be normal and Declan didn’t want to have to deal with that fact.

“I do love Ronan—and you. I love you both because you’re my family. And just because you’re a dream doesn’t mean that you’re not a person. Ronan’s dreams don’t always do what he wants them to. They evolve and they grow into something more than just a dream, in the same way that people do. You’re just as real as any of the rest of us. You’re just… different.”

Matthew glanced up at him shyly, a child uncertain at the love of a parent. “Do you… do you really think that? That I can be a real person?”

“You are a real person,” Declan assured him with a confidence he wished he could feel. “Now let’s go have dinner with the others. I’m sure they’re wondering where we are.”

Adam and Ronan were kissing when they finally came downstairs, though kissing was a polite word for what they were actually doing. Evidently the two had figured that Declan and Matthew wouldn’t be joining them for quite a while, as Adam’s body was pressed against the corner of one of the living room walls, Ronan’s body bearing down on him. From the looks of it, Adam’s tongue was halfway down his brother’s throat and Ronan’s hands were unaccounted for under the other boy’s shirt.

Declan opened his mouth to announce his presence, but before he could diffuse the situation delicately, Matthew bounded into the room oblivious to the scene, and starting serving himself up mashed potatoes. Adam jerked back from Ronan, the tips of his ears burning an embarrassing shade of red. Ronan simply leaned back, seemingly uncaring of the two new people in the room with them.

“Table’s set,” Ronan said, shark teeth flashing, a dare for Declan to say anything.

“Thank you,” Declan said coolly, not rising to the bait. “Matthew and I were just having a talk. Sorry to take so long.”

“I’m sorry—that wasn’t—” Adam blustered through a couple more half-sentences before Declan’s smile assured him it was nothing he wasn’t already aware of, knowledge that did nothing to help Adam’s already mortified state.

Dinner, usually a quiet affair for such events, was unusually lively. Ronan and Adam fell into easy conversation with Matthew joining after a moment, the boy seeming to have no end of things to talk about. Even Declan himself managed to get a sentence in or two without having his head chopped off, mostly due to the inclusion of Adam who defused most of Ronan’s snarky remarks.

In fact, as the evening went on Declan found himself having a genuinely good time. Adam and Matthew softened Ronan’s sharp edges, the presence of two of his favorite people together serving to curb his usual anger. There were even moments in the night when Ronan would laugh at a joke Declan made or respond to one of his questions genuinely without being his usual asshole self.

They ate cookies and drank hot cocoa that Ronan had apparently spiked with something, a fact Declan didn’t learn until the warmth in his gut was too pleasant for him to be sincerely angry about it. Matthew was the first to fall asleep, the unexpected alcohol being too much for him, and Ronan and Adam quickly followed pursuit. Ronan’s rested on Adam’s collarbone, their two bodies intertwined on the couch that was to be a makeshift guest bed, and Declan listened to their breathing slowly even out into a gentle hum.

Declan stood up, drawing a blanket over Matthew and going about the process of cleaning up and wrapping presents to put under the tree. Half an hour later, he stood over the pile of bodies in the living room and wondered at the people who had slowly become his family, his real family. Never before had Declan felt like he belonged, always seeing himself as a protector to his brothers and merely a colleague to his parents. Throughout the years, Christmas after Christmas had gone by, and every time Declan only found himself feeling worse as the night went on. In that moment, however, with Matthew’s face smiling and serene in sleep, and the sight of Ronan and Adam curled protectively about one another, he realized he had finally discovered a family that he could not only care for but that might care for him back.

He decided to join them in the living room instead of going to his bed like usual, and as he lay besides Matthew’s gently snoring body, he found himself content for the first time in his life.

[thenestwriter]

Friending Vs. Parenting...Is Your Child Your "Buddy"?

2022-Jan-01

To My Audience,

There is no playbook for parenting, and I know that I certainly don't have all the answers, but what I do know is that parenting takes maturity. Your thinking process should be aligned in a space where you are able to model and teach your children valuable lessons that can steer them in positive directions, as an adult, in today's everchanging society. In order to do this successfully, one must make the distinction between being a parent to a child, versus, being their buddy ole' pal.

When your child is your buddy, and you treat them like a friend, the lines of authority will forever be blurred. The child will never learn themes of life and gain moments where valuable lessons can be embedded...those will likely be missed. In the long run, the child's psyche is disturbed and dismantled. As children develop into adolescence, and into adulthood, their cognitive awareness must be fed adequately, with parenting that is nurturing, stable, structured, and unwavering.

One recent example of friending took place in Garland, Texas. As of now, Dallas police are on the hunt for 14-year-old Abel Elias Acosta, who with the assistance of his father Richard as the getaway driver, was driven to a convenience store, where Abel reached inside and released more than 20 rounds of gunfire from a .40-caliber pistol, leaving 3 teens fatally shot, and 1 left severely wounded. The father Richard Acosta Jr., 33, has thus turned himself in to authorities, been arrested, and charged with capital murder (Teen Killed, 2021). As a "parent", the absence of cognitive reasoning and decision-making led to the actions that took place on that night, as the supposedly "care-giver", perpetuated the situation versus deescalating it and providing alternative means to handle hostile situations and disagreements, which comes by way of proper parenting. At no point did the authority figure say, "maybe this isn't a good idea", or, "this can be handled differently son, in a better way than this"...oh no! On that day, they BOTH chose violence. At 14, decisions are made with impulsivity...where actions are done first, and then the consequences are considered, if they're even considered at all. Which is more evidence why it takes some level of maturity to engage in the process of raising children. Somebody has to be thinking straight!

Now, I do not know the backstory behind the shooting, but it is obviously apparent that Richard and Abel were more like buddies than the appropriate perception of a father-son relationship, that was constructed and fostered under nurturing conditions. It would not have surprised me if I learned that they had beers after the incident. A logical decision, pioneered and modeled by a mature adult would have certainly protected Abel and preserved his life, as it is now in shambles at the mere age of 14 years old. I am almost rest assured that the father isn't the only bad-influencer Abel has been around. His mental construct has already been formed, and at this very moment, he is living out a life for himself that doesn't have to be, at 14 years old. This incident grabs at my heart, each time I reflect on it.

In undergraduate school, while majoring in Psychology, I took many courses that educated me on the psychological development of children. During the early and middle, and adolescent years, children are impressionable, and haven't quite developed the brain functionality to make rational decisions on their own, which is done through the prefrontal cortex. Emotional/reaction decisions are also impacted through this area of the brain.

During early development, the brain is very responsive to both experiences and environmental cues, placing the brain under intense social and environmental influences (Gibb & Kolb, 2018). A buddy-buddy relationship will not establish the foundational structure that children need to foster their cognitive skills, behavioral performances, and socioemotional wellness. In turn, it serves to counteract against productive maturation.

Parents have a calling to engage in functional tasks, such as setting limits, instilling moral character, and modeling acceptive examples of conduct, which is a healthy function of being an adult (Lehman 2021). In addition, as children grow and foster under the guidance of proper and effective parenting, it further prepares the child for independency into the world. Entering into this domain, a child's mindset must be stable enough to leave the nest and create safe havens of their own, where the cycle of good parenting can continue with their own offspring.

When children are exposed to positive, enriched learning opportunities, epigenetic changes can occur that can impact neural chemistry and gene expression. The brain develops in 7 well-defined phases, that overlap and are repeated, thus a child's course of mental development should be handled with care, to support in their maturation process throughout their stages of growth.

Neurochemical, neurobehavioral, and neuropharmacological studies show that the brains remains very much active in adolescence, and evidence supports the hypothesis that the adolescent brain is structurally, and functionally venerable to environmental stress, and risky behaviors (Arain, et al., 2013). From early childhood until early adulthood, good parenting practices are key, as they help so greatly as a child's prefrontal is preparing itself for future complex behavioral performances.

Parenting means setting boundaries, and setting clear and direct expectations for your children to follow. They should be taught how their actions affect the types of consequences they receive, and how making logical decisions yield to better life outcomes. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being "friendly" and pleasant, and sharing fun times of laughter, and creating timeless memories. Being a parent doesn't mean that an iron first is needed, but what is needed is a line of restriction that is respected primarily because YOU are the adult; that's the line that needs to be drawn in the sand.

As parents, we should provide structure and discipline, and it prepares the child in knowing how to follow societal laws and rules. As parents, we discipline through consequences, and it prepares the child to be critical-thinkers, reasoning how to make wise choices, knowing how to weigh the odds against the positive or negative outcomes for the actions they choose. Children also grow through responsibilities given to them, first seen through the accountable ones closest to them; parents, which does not manifest through friending relationships. This typically is important due to the fact that the development and maturation of the prefrontal cortex occurs primarily during adolescence, and is fully accomplished by the age of 25. So yes, that means, good teaching should start early on, and never cease. During these 25 years, deposits of [healthy]knowledge [should be] going into the child's brain, and are cooking, just as a turkey would in an oven. By the time 25 hits, the bell rings, and the brain has formalized how life is perceived, and it begins to refer back to what's in its mindset toolbox to guide the way of how one should act, behave, think, and feel.

Parenting isn't easy...it's a learning process, but there has to be some identifier of maturity in order to make parental decisions versus you thinking that friendships does the job...structure does! Children don't stay children for long, and the better decisions you make with them as a parent, the more of a positive development and understanding of the world around them they'll have, as an adult.

Respectfully,

The Nest Writer

Tracy Warren, M.Ed.

References

Arain, M., Haque, M., Johal, L., Mathur, P., Nel, W., Rais, A., . . . Sharma, S. (2013). Maturation of the adolescent brain. US National Library of Medicine, 9, 449-461. doi:10.2147/NDT.S39776

Gibb, R., & Kolb, B. (2018). The Neurobiology of Brain and Behavioral Development. San Diego, California: Elsevier Inc.

Lehman, J. (2021). Your Child Is Not Your "Friend". Retrieved December 30, 2021, from Empowering Parents: https://www.empoweringparents.com/article/your-child-is-not-your-friend/

Teen Killed. (2021, December 30). Retrieved December 30, 2021, from 13 Eyewitness News: https://abc13.com/garland-shooting-abel-elias-acosta-richard-gas-station/11406424/

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 35 - Wrestlers, Boxers, and Ninjas, Oh My (Part 2)

Honey Lemon leaned in close to Varian's ear, a tempting smile playing across her lips, as she conspiratorially whispered, "Do you wanna go to tonight's wrestling match with me?"

Varian tried to stifle a laugh as he feigned a half hearted protest, "I thought we're supposed to be studying for finals?"

They were inside the studio apartment that Honey Lemon shared with Gogo; textbooks splayed out upon the table. Though small by most standards, the residency did occupy a sleeping loft, a fully equipped kitchen, and had a full bath complete with tub, which made it functionally larger than the dorms that Varian had lived in previously with Wasabi. There was no sofa though, nor any other leisurely dedicated space as Honey Lemon's own bed, which was positioned below the loft that Gogo slept in, took up the non-kitchen area. So there would be no more impromptu naps here as Varian had to either sit in one of the dining room chairs or on the floor, much to his disappointment; not that he would ever say so out loud.

But oh how she made it hard to focus even without a couch to cuddle on. She wasn't trying to distract him, he knew, but she just wouldn't stay still. First she ran about the apartment trying to do some last minute tidying up as he arrived. Next she tried to play the good hostess, asking if he wanted anything while she rummaged around the kitchen. Then even after finally getting her to sit down and open a text book, her free hand would constantly pick up her phone to read some notification or reply to a text, often sparking a random conversation that had nothing to do with the physics test he was trying to prepare for. Now here she was asking him to abandon the study session all together and he couldn't even get annoyed at her for it.

Everything she did was mesmerizing. Her voice was a siren's call that he could not ignore. She could have requested that he travel with her to the opposite side of the globe and he'd already be halfway finished packing a bag. But most frustrating of all was the fact that she was clearly oblivious to the effect that she had on him. She held him in her sway and didn't even know it.

"So do you wanna go?" She timidly asked again. "I mean finals aren't even for another whole week and I just managed to scalp two tickets off of Ticketwatch." She held up her phone so Varian could read the screen that confirmed her purchase.

Varian had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of Honey Lemon treating such an innocuous request as some sort of naughty affair that he had to be persuaded into doing, lest he refuse to succumb to temptation and take the dutiful high road of being a good and diligent student. Did she not know who she was talking to?

Still Varian wasn't going to let her win so easily. "I helped you with midterms, so it's only fair you gotta help me out with finals. And unlike some people, I like being prepared beforehand so I'm not over worked." He teased, thoroughly amused.

Honey Lemon gave an exaggerated pout at this lighthearted jab at her scheduling abilities and Varian nearly lost it in a fit of laughter. She was so earnest in everything that it was comical. But he couldn't stand to see her sad, even if only in jest, and willfully caved into her demands.

"Okay, okay, I guess we can do this on Sunday instead." He dramatically sighed.

He was rewarded for his compliance by her jumping out of her seat with a huge grin and flinging herself at him to wrap him in a tight hug.

"But on one condition," he said as he held her close, "we stop and get food first cause those prices at the concession stands are criminal."

"Alright," she agreed as she pulled away, "Just let me grab my purse."

Varian watched her as she ran over to the other side of the room and bent down to grope under the bed for the wayward purse; still in complete awe of her. Though he still tried to play things cool as they prepared to head out the door.  

"Are you wanting to call Fred and see if he wants to come too?"

"Ah well, I could only find two tickets. They're sold out for the night." Honey Lemon answered guilty. "But he can come another time." She assured as she closed the door and locked it.

Varian chose not to press the matter, but he couldn't help but smile to himself knowing that she had thought to ask him first; even if it was only because he was the one who happened to be around at the time.

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

Joe's Diner was right across the street from Honey Lemon's apartment. The retro style restaurant had seen better days, what with its rusty sign and peeling paint, but it was clean and the food was good which made it a favorite hang out for the locals.

Varian had eaten there before with the rest of his friends, yet a new sight greeted his eyes as he walked through the door. Sitting at one of the tables was a purple gelatinous blob with eyes and a mouth. It excitedly waved one of its long jelly like appendages in the air upon seeing Honey Lemon and himself enter.

"Hi Globby!" Honey Lemon answered back and the blob stood up to meet them.

"Oh Honey Lemon I'm so glad you're here. I wanted you to meet someone." 'Globby', as the thing was called, said.

"Oh I'd like you to meet someone too. This is my friend Varian. Varian, this is Globby; he's Carl's boyfriend." She explained as if this answers all of his questions.

Yes he knew Carl had a boyfriend, and that said boyfriend was a superhero, but no one had bothered to mention that he wasn't human.

"Oh Varian," Globby's eyes lit up in recognition, "Yeah, you're in Carl's boxing class. He told me so much about you. Nice to finally meet ya!" He shook Varian's hand vigorously, which covered his arm in the same purple gloop of whatever it was Globby was made of.

"Uh, nice to meet you too." Varian replied back as politely as he could as he tried to wipe his hand clean on his pants.

"Globby here helps us sometimes with the 'you know what'." Honey Lemon whispered.

"Yes, not to brag, but what ya might call the I'm the protector of San Fansokyo! But I wasn't always so. Once I was a humble thief, and then this happened to me," Globby pointed at his right arm as it dripped goop on the floor, "and then I became a super villain. But once I discovered that the city was in danger I lept into action to save the day! With a little help from my fellow crime fighters Big Hero Six. But seriously, I'm a hero now! Can you believe it! Me!? And I owe it all thanks to Honey Lemon here."

"Oh, no," Honey Lemon blushed, "You did it yourself."

"No HL, I won't hear any false modesty from you." Globby protested. "You believed in me when nobody else did. Even when I didn't believe in myself. That matters a lot. So thank you. Plus you also kind of gave me superpowers."

"How did she do that?" Varian asked.

"Oh well it was kind of an accident." Honey Lemon said.

"I stole her a chim-purse." Globby explained. "Then I used it to break into Krei Tech to steal a neurotransmitter device. And then I kind of tripped and fell while wearing it and the chim-purse kinda exploded and now here I am!" He spread his arms wide at this last sentence, a huge grin on his face.

"Globby is a polymorph." Honey Lemon clarified. "He can change his molecular make up to be whatever he wants it to be."

"No way." Varian breathed in awe. "You mean to tell me you can charge and discharge photons and electrons on cellular level at will?"

"Uuuuuuh, I don't know about that? But I can turn myself into chocolate!" And with that Globby's hand transformed into what looked like a giant chocolate bar, of which he bit into and with mouth still full said, "Ooh nutty!"

Varian watched with a mixer of amazement, horror, and nausea, as Honey Lemon stood by silently; unsure of what to say. The awkwardness however, was dispelled by the sound of raucous laughter coming from the booth Glooby had been sitting at.

"That is a neat trick mi amigo."

A large man, wearing a trench coat and a mismatched luchador mask turned around in his seat to look at them. Varian recognized him from the wrestling ring.

"Hey you're…"

"El Fuego" Honey Lemon whispered in dread.

"Not anymore, now I am El Agua!" The wrestler proudly proclaimed; oblivious to Honey Lemon's discomfort. "It's a bit of a rebranding thing."

"Oh yeah, we saw you at the match last week." Varian excitedly jumped in, also not catching onto Honey Lemon's disquiet demeanor, "You were great! I especially liked how you threw The Sandman out of the ring with only one arm. That was cool."

"Oh hey, a fan!" El Fuego, or Agua as he now was called, enthused. "Always happy to meet fans. Would you like an autograph?"

"I sure would!"

The wrestling champ chuckled in delight as he pulled out a pen and began to sign his name upon a napkin.

"This is who I wanted you to meet," Globby explained. "Salinas here reached out to me for help. He's trying to go straight and is working really hard to get his life turned around."

"Yup, no more life of crime for me." El Agua confirmed as he handed the autograph to Varian. "I'm a changed man."

"How nice." Honey Lemon said with a strained smile on her face.

"Yeah I know, right!? I told him how much of a positive influence you were when I first started out superheroing." Globby continued. "I'm glad you stopped by, so that you two could finally meet. Wanna join us?"

He gestured to the booth and Honey Lemon looked like he had just asked her to dive into lava.

Varian was going to take up the offer but she answered before he could.

"Oh no, we only came here for… for… some… uh, ice!"

"Ice?"

"I thought we came here for fo-"

"Ice... ice cream that is." She nervously laughed. "Yup, we're just going to get some ice cream... to go. Wouldn't want to be late to… where we're going."

She wore a plastered grin as she turned to the counter to order. "Two vanilla ice cream cones please."

Varian and the others watched on in confusion as she took the two cones from Joe and then hurried back. She practically slammed one of the cones into Varian's chest as she hastily handed it to him, and before he could process what was happening, she grabbed the end of his sleeve and started to drag him out the door.

"Bye!" She yelled and Varian awkwardly attempted to wave before the glass door slammed shut behind them.

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

"Uh… Honey Lemon?" Varian asked after they were a few yards away from the diner.

"Hmmm?" Honey Lemon barely answered back as she strode forward, determined to put as much distance between her and the conversation they had just left.

Varian pressed on. "Ice cream is nice and all, but I thought we were going to go get, um, real food."

Honey Lemon finally slowed and turned to meet him, taking a guilty bite from the frozen treat. "We will, I just… I thought we could go get pizza instead!"

Varian turned back to look at the sign hanging from the restaurant window. Pizza was advertised alongside the menu's other assortment of food. He raised an eyebrow and Honey Lemon wilted under his skeptic gaze. She took another bite of her ice cream and suddenly found the toes of her shoes very interesting.

"Honey Lemon."

She looked up but still didn't answer.

"Honey, you're very sweet," Varian coaxed, "but you're a terrible liar. You know that right?"

Honey Lemon sighed and rolled her eyes in a rare display of frustration. "Look I just... didn't want to get caught up in eating dinner with them. We got on stuff to do."

"You mean stuff like going to the same wrestling match that El Agua was no doubt going to later?" Varian asked incredulously. "I figured you'd jump at the chance to hang out with an actual wrestling star. Maybe he could have gotten us backstage passes or something, I don't know?"

"Well, I don't." Honey Lemon said flatly.

Varian paused and looked at her in surprise. He couldn't remember ever seeing her being so cold or evasive.

"What 's wrong?"

Honey Lemon bit her lower lip, "I just.. I just don't trust El Fuego. That 's all."

"Why? What did he do? Did he hurt you?"

"No, no. It's just he's a super villain and we've fought him before…"

"But didn't Globby just say he used to be a super villain too?"

"Well yeah, but that's different."

"How so?"

"Well, Globby's nice and he tries really, really hard. He doesn't mean any harm, even back when he was a thief."

"Oh so, this other guy did something really bad then; something even worse than theft."

Varian thought he had hit upon the problem, but Honey Lemon's response was not one he expected.

"Weeeelll… Sort of…"

"What did he do then?"

"He- Well he.. He's a bully."

Varian tilted his head in confusion; not understanding Honey Lemon's point.

"I mean he called Baymax a bunch of names and tried to challenge him and Hiro to a fight." Honey Lemon explained.

Varian waited to see if she would list any other transgressions and when she didn't, all he could do was give her a look of utter bafflement.

"That's it!?"

She nodded her head timidly.

"Is- is that even a crime?" He asked with a hint of exasperation.

"Well, not exactly…" She admitted. "But it 's mean."

"So what?"

Now it was Honey Lemon's turn to act surprised, yet Varian didn't give her a chance to continue.

"You can't just lock people up for not being nice."

"Well we didn't," Honey Lemon defended, "but neither do I have to be friendly to someone who isn't."

Varian had to admit she had a point.

"Ok, fair enough. No one said you had to like the guy."

"Thank you."

"But he still deserves a second chance, surly."

"Well sure, and if he does become a nicer person that's great, and I wish him the best. But I don't wanna hang out with him."

Varian sighed and shook his head. "'Nice' has nothing to do with it, but of course if you don't feel comfortable being around him we can go somewhere else to eat." He pulled out his cell phone. "I'll call ahead and order us a pizza."

He continued walking towards the bus stop but Honey Lemon stood rooted to the spot in confusion.

"What do you mean 'nice has nothing to do with it'?  She eventually asked.

'Well you can't tell how good or bad some is by how polite they are."

"I know that. What matters is how they treat people."

"Yeah, but sometimes it's more complicated than that. Doing one bad thing, doesn't mean they're a bad person. You don't know what El Agua's life is like. You don't know why he did what he did."

"El Fugeo," Honey Lemon corrected. "And I know he tried to pick a fight with my friends; Your friends."

"Yeah, and from the looks of things he didn't actually hurt anybody. Hiro's never even mentioned him before."

Honey Lemon gave him an offended pout, and Varian tried to once more defuse the situation.

"Look, I just.. I know of people who've done far, far worse, and plenty of 'nice' people who'd stab you in the back. Anyways would you like the cheese pizza or the veggie supreme."

He pointed at his phone as he tried to change the topic, but Honey Lemon

wasn't ready to let the conversation go just yet.

"This isn't Corona." She said quietly.

"And thank goodness for that." Varian agreed, though his voice was tight with pained sarcasm.

"You think I'm being mean, by blowing El Fue- El Agua off?" She asked.

Varian immediately looked up from his phone. "No. Oh no, of course not; you're the kindest person I know. If you think the guy is bad news then you're probably right."

She searched his eyes for reassurance.

"Look,' he soothed, "let's just forget the whole thing and have a fun evening. We can get a five dollar pizza at Luigi's, then head on to the match and we'll see who's better at heckling. Loser has to buy the next tickets."

Honey Lemon snorted with laughter.  "Who decides that?"

"We do. Whoever makes the other laugh more wins."

"Oh you're on." She challenged; right when the bus pulled up.

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

Varian and Honey Lemon stepped out into crisp night air as they exited the arena. Crowds of people pushed past them also trying to leave the event and so Honey Lemon hooked her arm around Varian's so as not to get separated.

If there was one thing Varian knew about Honey Lemon, it was that she was a very tactile person. She showered everyone with physical affection; hugs, hand holding, cuddles, and pecks on the cheek, even people she just met would be subjected to her glomping them as if she'd known them her whole life. Therefore Varian tried not to look any deeper into such innocent action, but it still made his heart skip a beat to have his crush so close. Nothing could wipe the grin off his face as they hurried down the sidewalk to the bus stop.

"So why do you always root for the bad guy?" Honey Lemon asked as they went along.

She was referring to the wrestlers. Her and Varian always seemed to favor opposing teams. While she cheered on the heroes of the play, he always gravitated towards the heels that opposed them.

Varian shrugged. "I guess I just like the underdog. The villains tend to be more interesting in my opinion."

"But they're mean; at least in the story, I'm sure they're perfectly nice people in real life." Honey Lemon hastily added.

"All except that Vanguard guy you like. He's a jerk on stage."

Honey Lemon playfully sighed and rolled her eyes. "I don't see it that way. He's written to be like a knight in shining armor."

"Yeah and he's infuriatingly smug while doing it. He goes on and on about 'justice' this and 'honor' that, but what is he really fighting for? His own glory, that's what. It's a game and he wants to win it. At least the 'bad guys', as you put it, are more honest about why they're there."

"But it's all made up." Honey exasperated, "No one is more 'honest' than anyone else because it's scripted. If the story says someone is good or bad you just accept it. It's all a part of playing along and having fun with it."

"Oh sure, but I personally find the villains more fun because nothing is really at stake. Heroes in stories are always too perfect, too pure. Who can relate to that? Who's never wanted to lash out when angry or fight against the status quo? It's easy to be 'good' when you've never had to struggle for anything."

Honey Lemon studied Varian intently as she mulled over his words, and Varian could sense that he'd exposed a nerve; whether it was Honey Lemon's or his own, he wasn't sure.

He was just about to laugh it off and change the subject in order to ease the tension, when suddenly a very large and intimidating figure stepped out of the shadows. Varian instinctively moved to place himself between Honey Lemon and this new threat. Which was silly, he knew. She was an actual superhero. She didn't need him to shield her.

However the 'threat' was not a threat at all. The large man before them burst out into a very familiar boisterous roar.

"Oh I'm sorry mi amigos. I did not mean to startle you. You must not recognize me without my mask." El Feugo laughed.

He was out of costume, and dressed in the trench coat that they had seen him in earlier at the diner. Only this time the luchador's mask was off revealing a man in his late twenties with short black hair and a small scar running across his nose, indicating where it had been broken in a previous fight.

"You should have told me you were coming to see the show tonight." He continued on. "I would have gotten you better seats."

The wrestler's face beamed with an infectious grin and Varian was tempted to make polite conversation. He was always ready to make friends with just about anyone who wanted to, but Honey Lemon's grip tightened around his arm as she tensed up. He spared a quick glance back to see her still huddled behind him, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Uh, yeah, well we didn't want to trouble you." Varian answered.

"Oh no trouble at all. Any friends of Globby, is a friend of mine. Hey I know, I can get you tickets to tomorrow's match." He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out two tickets before either of them could protest. "We players always get a couple of free tickets for family or what not. I haven't got anybody else to give them to, so you might as well use them if you can."

Varian tried to politely turn him down "Oh no thank you. I don't know if we can make it. Finals are coming up and all that."

"I insist. They're good till the end of the month and they come with backstage passes too."

Without any other excuses to give, Varian took the tickets and said thank you, though he could feel Honey Lemon's disapproval radiating off of her as he did so. Still she neither said nothing, nor made any moves to stop him.

"Well I guess we better be going." Varian said, trying to exit the awkward situation, "We don't want to miss the bus."

"Oh me neither." El Fuego agreed as he walked with them to the bus stop. "Wrestling is my passion, but it doesn't always pay enough to hire a chauffeur to drive you around in a sports car." Then he doubled over laughing at his own joke and not unkindly nudged Varian with his elbow, "Not unless you get a promotional deal, am I right?"

Varian gave a fake laugh, "I wouldn't know. I never wrestled before."

"Oh that's right, Globby, said you were taking boxing lessons instead. Ever thought of getting the ring?"

"Oh no, my aunt would never allow that."

El Fuego titled his head in confusion. "I thought you two were in college? You still let your aunt tell you what you can and can't do? You stand up and be your own man."

Varian noticed Honey Lemon's lips tighten at that and she squeezed Varian's arm tighter. It was slightly unnerving to see the normally cheerful and carefree girl so clearly annoyed.

"Yeah, well she's the one paying for the classes." Varian explained and El Fuego nodded his head and then launched into another topic of conversation as the bus arrived.

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

And so it went the whole ride back to the apartment. El Fuego carrying on, freely talking about everything and anything, clearly oblivious to the fact that his company wasn't wanted. Varian trying to politely keep up his end of the conversation while ignoring the vice like grip Honey Lemon held his arm in. He was sure it had fallen asleep from lack circulation by the time they arrived at their destination. All while Honey Lemon, herself, kept deathly silent the whole way. She wouldn't budge from the Varian side, nor look away from wrestler sitting across from them; as if El Fuego had been a poisonous snake rather than just a man with a poor perception of social cues.  

What Varian couldn't figure out was why she wouldn't voice her displeasure. It was her evasiveness that threw him off kilter more so than El Fuego's chatter.

Yet he didn't have to wait long to find out, for as soon as they said goodbye to the man and made it back into the apartment, Honey Lemon let out a frustrated scream.

"Arrugh!"

"Have fun?" Gogo asked deadpan. She was sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal when they had entered.

Honey Lemon's answer was another rage filled scream before flopping face down on the bed.

"Dude, what did you do?" Gogo asked of Varian.

Varian was offended "Why automatically assume it's my fault?"

"We met El Fuego." Honey Lemon said before an argument could break out.

"Where?"

"He was with Globby at Joe's and later he rode the bus home with us on the way back from the wrestling arena." She tiredly explained. "He says he's trying to 'go straight.'" She flung her hands up in exasperation before flopping back down on the bed, curling up with a pillow while continuing to pout.

Gogo gave the same bewildered look that Varian did earlier that day. "Oookaay annnd…?"

Honey Lemon scrunched up her face and revulsion. "Aaaand, he gave us free tickets to the next match, can you believe him?"

Gogo and Varian exchanged confused looks.

"Oooh how horrible" She sarcastically replied.

This really set Honey Lemon off. "You don't understand. He's just pretending to be nice to try and get us to trust him."

"And why would he do that?" Gogo asked.

"Well to...to... I don't know, to get to Hiro maybe."

"Does he even know who Hiro is? Cause all he ever cared about was fighting "Big Hero Six" and to him that just means Baymax."

"Then...he must be after Baymax then."

"Does he know that Baymax or any of us are in Big Hero Six?"

"I..I don't know. I don't think Globby would tell our secret. He didn't mention it when we met him." Honey Lemon starred out into the middle distance trying to recall their past conversation.

"Well, even then, it's not like he can actually hurt Baymax. I mean he's a robot." Varian added.

This only rewarded him with a narrow glare from Honey Lemon. Varian would have backpedaled away had he not been so shocked.

"You took the tickets from him!" She yelled.

"What else was I supposed to do? He insisted. It's not like we have to use them or anything."

Gogo ignored their spat as she texted on her phone. The reply dinged back; drawing everyone's attention.  "Okay, I just texted Globby. He says he hasn't told El Fuego anything about Big Hero Six other than that he works with us sometimes."

Honey Lemon pouted in confusion. "Then what is he after?"

"I don't know, friends maybe?" Gogo shrugged. "Whatever it is, it's nothing to do with us or superheroing."

"But...but, but he…" Honey Lemon stuttered over her words as she desperately tried to come up with another justification. "He… he was acting really creepy; alright!? Jumping out of shadows… laughing at.. at… well everything…"

"He was walking to the bus stop already and just happened to run into us." Varian clarified for Gogo. This made him the victim of another angry stare from Honey Lemon. "What!? It's true."

"Well, I don't trust him. I think he's up to something." Honey Lemon sulked, hugging her pillow tighter.

"Ooor maybe you just don't like him." Gogo said. "You're allowed to just not like people. You know that right?"

Honey Lemon looked surprised by this revelation. She opened and closed her mouth several times to form a response but the words just wouldn't come.

"Yeah and if anyone knows about not liking people, it's Gogo." Varian teased. "She doesn't like anybody."

This earned him a light punch on the arm. He just couldn't win today.

"Look, it's fine." She said, returning her attention to her roommate. "I know you're a little ray of sunshine, who's friends with the whole world, but not everybody gets along and that's ok. I'm sure even Varian here knows people he dislikes, and he's Mr. Congeniality."

Varian gave a look of offended confusion. He didn't know if 'congeniality' was a jab at his expense or a compliment. Either way he was sure the descriptor didn't fit him.

"Is there anybody you don't like?" Honey Lemon asked him.

"Who me? Yeah, I got a whole country's worth of people I hate."

"See?" Gogo confirmed, not catching on to the deeper meaning behind his words.

Honey Lemon pouted again, but didn't argue back as she mulled over her friend's advice.

Varian stepped in with a peace offering. "Look, would like for me to throw away the tickets?"

"No." Honey lemon sighed. "Ask Fred to go with you, since he didn't get to come this time."

"You sure?"

She nodded yes and gave him a small reassuring smile.

"So, are you still mad at me?"

"Oh, I was never mad at you."

"Really? Cause it sure seemed that way when you yelled at me just then."

"I'm sorry." She whispered sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sorry too. Next time we won't take the bus, how's that?"

She agreed and Varian made ready to leave.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" Gogo asked.

"Naw, It's alright. It's only 10:30. Besides, the bus is less drafty than the motorcycle." He joked.

"Well ok, just be safe and text one of us when you get back."

Varian rolled his eyes "Okay 'mom', See you Sunday."

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

They said their goodbyes and Varian walked back to the bus stop. He called Aunt Cass to let her know he was on his way home, and then proceeded to text Fred about the tickets while waiting on the bus to arrive.

Just then someone grabbed him from behind and placed their hand over his mouth. He dropped his phone in surprise and tried to break free of the person's grip. But no matter how he kicked and squirmed he couldn't escape their grasp.

Yet still even more frightening was the fact that he could feel his limbs grow heavy and his vision swam. They held a damp cloth in the hand that covered his mouth and whatever chemical itwas dipped in was making him lose consciousness. He listed the possible combinations in his mind as darkness rushed up to meet him; chloroform? no, morphine? probably not, fentay-.....

"Got him boss. We're on our way now." A man said over the intercom in his ear. He then picked up the unconscious teen and carried him off into the night.

[ranposlittle]

hi, can i have a matchup? :0 i’m pan and nb (they/them), 5’5, and i’m black with light pink dyed hair and dark brown eyes. i looove to cosplay, draw, sing and dance, and idols like in love live are my biggest inspiration and biggest dream! i work hard at what i care about, and i’m also super goofy! i’ve never cussed (but don’t mind it!), get flustered super easily and can’t flirt well, but i’m still a hopeless romantic! my mbti type is enfp! thank you so much! 💕💕

❴🐰❵┊ I ship you with ➸ . . .

────── 「 𝙾𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞 · 𝙳𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 」 ──────

You're not even in a bar or any place where flirting usually takes place but still, here you are — in the middle of a cosplay convention — getting shamelessly hit on by a beautiful stranger. He doesn't seem intoxicated nor under the influence of any drugs. As a matter of fact, as the richness of your brown eyes gaze at his own, his eyes are clear and even... glimmering. You took notice of everyone's eyes being on you as the stranger (who later introduced himself as Dazai) kneels on one knee, hand in yours like an old school Romeo, and your face immediately heated up beyond the boiling point. You stuttered at your words but eventually was able to agree on his proposed date before a tall blond man dragged your strange suitor away, leaving you to stand in the middle of the wreckage of the situation he caused. The whole ordeal felt like a dream to you, except for the crumpled paper in your hand with the man's name and number jotted down.

Despite numerous days have already passed since the fateful day, it still never fail to make you extremely flustered whenever you're reminded of it: whether it be by the teasing of your friends who witnessed the whole thing take place or the times you look at the piece of paper and contemplate whether to call him or not. But a long weekend approached fast, you were getting tired of staring at your ceiling and waiting for any of your friends' invitation to hang out. After the evening settled in with no such luck, the clumsy way the numbers are scribbled kept appearing in your mind.

You've always been drawn to embracing new ideas and approach things with curiosity because the free spirited ENFP is born to explore. You're in constant search of things that rings true to you and will unhesitatingly work hard for it. This is a chance for you to connect with another soul, you thought. It could be nothing but you also thought about the possibility of all of this having a deeper meaning. You took a deep breath. Gathering your unshakable conviction, you started dialing the number and press the call button before you could even talk yourself out of it. The voice of your doubts became louder and louder with each ring that goes unanswered. He picked up on the fifth ring, and without any prior questions about you, the first words out of his mouth was: “I was waiting for you. You certainly took your sweet time, beautiful.”

He was a big flirt, that you have confirmed after going on just a few dates with him. So he's always successful in making you a blushing mess whenever you are together; in public or in private. And if you attempt to flirt back (as good as you could at least), he'll just tease you even more until your words run dry. You guessed that making you flustered must be his love language.

Despite his antics though, Dazai does have deep feelings for you, it just came through time. Whenever he's with you, there's always a genuine smile on his face, and he just has a lot of fun. You're quite spontaneous and was even successful to pull a few surprises for him, which he greatly appreciates. His day is instantly better when you come to the Agency unannounced, a lunch in hand for the two of you to share. Sometimes, you'll just ask him to dress up because you already have tickets for that movie he once told you about. Dazai can see your commitment to him in small but significant things that you do; the way you never forget to greet him good morning no matter where you are, all the “I saw this and it reminded me of you” moments, even the way your thumb would brush against his whenever your hands are intertwined– he can feel your love all around him. He stopped saying his usual tag line about wanting to go in the afterlife with you a long time ago, because now, he's starting to see the world through your eyes, and it looks like a world that he actually wants to keep existing in.

Overall, I chose Dazai to be your match because I think your relationship will be filled with so much fun but at the same time, with so much love. Your relationship will not be boring and you'll be able to give each other the personal freedom you require. There will also be a lot of opportunities for you two to experiment and experience new things together (even in the bedroom, if you'd like). I also think that Dazai will see you as the cutest person he's ever been with. Aside from the fact that you've never cursed, your height difference is perfect for him. The fashionable color of your hair also adds to your charm. Even other people will find you to be such an adorable couple, freely goofing around with each other. You'll get a lot of compliments with Dazai because he can see how much you appreciate them. A hopeless romantic like you would have a good time with a flirt like Dazai. He will shower you with his affection, in words and in actions, and you'll do the same for him. No one will have a doubt on your love because even a blind would be able to know that you're just head over heels for each other. Because of that, rest assured that Dazai will be your number one fan. He'll be there in every cosplay event, every gig, with a camera in hand and shamelessly cheering you on. He would even often joke about how you should hire him as your own personal bodyguard once you're all famous. You would just laugh it off, but he really is serious about it. Dazai supports you with each one of your dreams and it would be his greatest pleasure to be by your side through it all.

▮ ❝ Hello there, glyxiebear~ Sorry to keep you waiting for so long, but here's your matchup! I hope you like it and please know that I'm also rooting for you! Don't stop working on your dreams and please don't forget me once you're a star (*,,˃ ᵕ ˂ )✰*｡ hehe I'm also an aspiring musician and I know how tough it is, but let's keep going and eventually we'll get there 💗 Take care! ❞

[ladyideal]

Our Love 1/3

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader

Word Count: 2348

Warnings: None just a whole lot of fluff.

Summary: You meet Leonard McCoy at a cafe.  

A/N: So this is the first part to @cuddlememerrick 1.3k follower celebration. Congrats again Aimee (please help tag), you deserve every one of your followers. Here’s to many more to come. Please do note that this will be the only fluff fic in this three parter. Here you go everyone, a cafe AU. (Yes, I know I put this in the McKirk section, but you’ll see why in the end.)

Part 2 is here..

It was Wednesday.

Wednesdays were one of the slowest days for a cafe. You’d cleaned the windows, the chairs, the tables, and the counters so often within the day that you’d lost count after twelve. You fancied the idea of closing early since there were hardly any customers coming in. Going home and snuggling under the covers was a good idea, but then you would have the face the task of finding something to do.

The cafe was situated not far from the hustling bustling of the clubs a few streets down. Many customers would stop by, and a few had begun to be regulars in just a few short months. Opening the little family cafe with your mom was a terrific idea. Now that the sun was setting, even less customers were stopping by.

No, you would stay till closing. It gave you something to do anyways. 

The bell clinked as the front door swung open. You glanced up from the counter you had been staring at for the last five minutes, and smiled as the customer walked in. 

“Welcome in. What can I get for you?” You straightened up, studying the stranger. A doctor, you presumed, as you recognized the scrubs he was wearing. His mop of black hair was in a mess, eyes faraway, and a very tight smile on his face. Exhaustion nearly drooped his eyes shut, and he looked dead on his feet.

“Just a dark roast, darlin’,”

“Can I get a name with that?” 

The stranger only raised an eyebrow. That action alone had you nearly melting inside. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were at work and he was a customer, you would totally be down to get to know him better. “I’m the only customer here.”

You shrugged, sweeping an arm around the space. “Anytime it could get busy, that’s the beauty of having a cafe,” you started. A sharpie poised on the edge of the cup. “And I like to get to know my customers better when I can.”

The man shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. “It’s Leonard.”

“Well grab a seat, Leonard,” You spoke, writing his name on his cup. “I’ll bring your coffee up to you.” 

Taking your advice, he chose a corner seat away from the doors and against one of the windows. Out of the corner of your eyes, you watched as he draped his coat on his seat and sat down, burying his head in his hands. Whatever he was going through was certainly not easy. 

Finished making the cup in record time, you strode quietly over to his table. “Here you go. One hot dark roast for you,” You paused, gently setting the coffee down in front of him. “Here’s to hoping that it will make your evening a little better, sir.”

Lifting his head out for a moment to look up at you, the edges of his mouth twitched slightly upward. “Thank you, darlin’, it smells heavenly.” With that, he put his head back into his hands.

“Of course,” You nodded, walking back behind your counter. Crestfallen, you returned to your duty of scrubbing the counters again. Of course, this was nothing new to you. Some customers were talkative, some had business to tend to, but most wanted to be left alone with their coffee. After all, this was a cafe where people from all sorts of lives could get a fresh cup of joe and forget about their busy day even for just a little bit.

You did your best not to ogle at him. For a brief moment, you had caught his features. Truth be told, he was beyond handsome, and very easy on the eyes. Tall, broad shouldered, a mop of now messy black hair, and a pair of brilliant hazel eyes to add to boot. He was near a picture perfect of a man who knew how to take care of himself.

Your stomach grumbled in protest, and you scowled, tearing your gaze away from your customer and to the stand beside. You could order take out and have it delivered, but you were the only one working tonight. So there went that idea. Reluctantly, you went to the back room for the fridge, hoping to scrounge up something that resembled a dinner. 

Surveying the limited options you had, you grabbed a wrap. Before you could close the door, you froze as an idea popped into your head. You could be brave, bring some food to your obvious sullen customer, and cheer him up as much as you could. Emboldened with the idea, you grabbed another sandwich and quickly made your way out front. 

During your moment of indecisiveness, Leonard started on his brew, eyes staring out the window. Gauging on his reflected expression from the glass, he had a faraway look, a very pained look, something you were very familiar with. Snatching a plate, you loaded his sandwich and another with some sweets from the stand. 

“Hey,” You approached his table, setting down the various plates you had. “I know it’s none of my business, and I don’t know you. But since there’s probably no one else for the rest of the night, and I'm sure you’re probably hungry, I thought that we could maybe have a talk?” 

Leonard turned to you, then to the offered food in front of him, and raised an eyebrow at it all. “I’ll take the sandwich, but as a doctor, sweets aren’t good for you.”

You grinned, sitting opposite of him. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Leonard?” You teased. 

“Gone, flew out of the window,” He drawled out. His southern accent must peek out more often when he was this exhausted. 

“So what brings you to my quaint cafe, doctor?” You spoke, quietly sipping on your warm Americano.

“Death and destruction,” He snorted, pausing to take a sip out of his joe again. “Ex wife won’t let me see my baby girl regularly anymore, saying I’m a bad influence on her. Lost custody, and now I can see her only on specific days of the year.”

You ate your quick dinner, diligently listening to Leonard as he spoke about how hard he worked to become a doctor to provide for his growing family, how his daughter had him wrapped around her pinkie, how his life was destroyed and had nowhere to go after the divorce, and how he didn’t know what to do with himself now. You patted his hand with yours, in an attempt to assure him that everything would be okay. He had a heart of gold, something that his ex must have overlooked.

“You know,” You broke a chocolate cookie in half. “Only a fool would let a person like you go. No one in their right mind with a man like you, just walk out the door like that, when you have a heart of gold.”

The doctor snorted, draining the last of his cup. “Do you?”

“‘Course I do,” You smirked. “I fed you, gave you something to drink, and got you to talk about your woes. That’s gotta count for something, ain’t it?” 

A brief flash of smile graced his face before it disappeared again. He chuckled. “It sure does, darlin’. It sure does.” 

Before you could return with a smartass reply, his pager beeped and he sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. I’ve gotta head back to work. They’re calling me back,” he smiled apologetically. 

“Oh no, no worries.You’re needed elsewhere,” You stood up as he did too. “I’ll get these cleared for you. I don’t want to keep you.”

“I’ll make it up to you another day,” The doctor trailed off, now realizing that you never gave your name.

“Y/N,” You supplied immediately, blushing at the fact that the entire time you never introduced yourself to him. “Will I see you again, Leonard?”

“I work over at St. Jude’s. All my nurses have been complimenting on your coffee, and I thought I could give this a try, see if the rumors were true,” He smirked, noticing your obvious blush. 

“Thank you,” You nodded your head. Swinging his coat back on, the doctor bid you a wonderful rest of the evening, and he took his leave. You stared at the crumbs on the table and the two empty cups with a sense of pride. You normally didn’t go out of your way to know your customers, but this time it paid off.

“Good luck, Leonard,” You mumbled, brushing the crumbs down the edge of the table and into a waiting plate below. Gathering everything else, you dumped the crumbs into trash and the rest into a sink. With a rag, you started cleaning the table with a satisfied smile on your face.

You didn’t see Leonard for the rest of the week. It was hard work to be a doctor, and almost on call all the time. Yet, you hoped that he would remember you and stop by when he could. You could visit the hospital, and ask for him, but you wondered if that was too forward of you.

It was another Wednesday when the handsome doctor stopped by, now two weeks after his first initial visit. 

“Leonard,” You greeted, recognizing the face of the doctor when the doors opened with a loud clink. “Still the same roast from before?”

Leonard brightened up as he saw you behind the counter, and grinned. “It will be an Americano today, darlin’.”

You chuckled, and nodded as you changed his order. Sitting in the same table that he did the first time, you noticed that he had cleaned himself up, and was a little more easy going than before. Perhaps things were letting up for him. 

“Ta da da da,” You gently set the cup, and a plate of his sandwich.

He looked up from his phone, and raised his eyebrow again as he noticed the food in front of him. “Darlin’, I-.”

“Oh please Leonard,” You rolled your eyes at him. “Don’t think I didn’t hear your stomach growling when you stepped in.”

“Alright, alright, you got me there, Y/N,” He laughed, and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. You could get used to the sound. “But at least let me pay for it.”

You playfully swatted his hands away. “Please, no need. It’s on me.”

“Y/N,” He looked back up at you, searching your eyes when they met his. “Thank you.”

And that was how you got to meet Doctor Leonard McCoy, the famous and highly regarded practitioner in the medical field. It became a weekly routine. He would stop by on Wednesdays, and order his dark roast. You would set down a plate of food in front of him, and catch up. As the weeks went by, you admitted to yourself that you liked the guy. 

He was smart, witty, sarcastic, grouchy at times, but it was endearing. Now every week, you waited impatiently for Wednesday to come, to be able to speak with your favorite doctor. Even occasionally, you would send some free coffee up to his team of nurses and doctors with their coffee and some bites of food. 

You were definitely falling head over heels for the doctor. 

It had been almost three months since he first swung by. You and Leonard flirted shamelessly, but still the both of you waited for the other to make a move. You kept your mouth shut to your other employees. They didn’t need to know.

“Leonard,” You greeted, wiping away the last of the cups without looking up when the bell clinked. “The usual?”

“Actually darlin’,” Leonard stayed in front of your counter, shifting his weight from foot to foot as though he was nervous. “I can’t stay.”

“Oh,” You placed the rag away, and fully joined him up at the register. “What’s the matter? Everything's okay?”

“I’m seeing Joanna tonight. I only stopped by to let you know, darlin’,” He spoke.

“That’s wonderful news, Leonard. I’m happy for you,” You grinned up at him. “Do you want a coffee to go then or anything?”

The doctor shook his head. “Ma’s making dinner for me tonight, so I’ll have to pass this time.”

“How long do you get to see her for?”

“Three days. The ex is going on vacation, and doesn’t want the kid around. So I get to have her for a little bit.”

“Here, have a little something for the ride,” You fished out a bottled water out from the mini fridge. “Never know when you need it.”

“Thanks, darlin’,” He took it when you slid it over the register to him. “I should get goin’. Don’t want to miss my flight.”

“Have a safe trip, Leonard. I’ll see you when you get back?” You asked, and grinned when he nodded. He turned away to step back out.

“Wait hold on!” You stopped him before he could reach the door.

“Hmm?” Leonard turned back to you, a now familiar smirk on his face. Damn him. 

“Something for the ride,” You grinned, gently kissing him on his cheek and pushing an item into his hands. “And something to remember me by.”

The doctor was stunned for a moment, and you savored the way the tips of his ears burned pink. Wrapping his arms around you into a hug, he growled lowly into your ear. “Patience, Y/N. We’ll continue this when I come back.”

You laughed, and soon he joined in as well. After a moment, you stepped back, and bid him good luck and safe travels. Snatching your hand with his, he planted a kiss on the back of your hand and winked. With that, he stepped back out into the busy streets. 

It took him a few minutes to realize that you’d placed a piece of paper into his other hand. While hailing a cab, he unwrapped the paper, and grinned down at it. 

“Stay safe, darlin’. I’ll be back before you know it.” Came an unknown number on your phone.

ST Tags: @mournthewicked (Join the taglist!)

[pookamaluka]

The Pillar

The Pillar - 1,264 words Dragon Age 2

Kaidan Hawke: Mage, Purple Hawke

When Kaidan Hawke was born his parents were pleased. His father especially. He had a little one who was the spitting image of the woman he loved. Kaidan had her golden blond hair and sea-green eyes he adored. Leandra, however was a bit disappointed. She had yearned for a girl who looked like her husband.

Nevertheless, they loved him dearly and protected him with the fierceness of a dragon. 

Years later, Leandra got her wish. A set of twins, among them, the beautiful baby girl she had always wished for. A little lady who took after her father. And a cute little man who was a perfect blend of them both. Their family was complete. Even with the constant anxiety of having to hide Malcom’s origins, they managed to carve a small slice of happiness. 

Until Kaidan showed a talent for magic. The children’s room going up in flames was a memory Leandra had to work hard to suppress. Thankfully, Malcolm had been near and the children, all of them, got out unscathed. Leandra was more strict with her eldest son after that incident. 

Malcolm didn’t approve, but he wasn’t always around as a buffer. He took on the role of teacher and mentor, teaching his son everything he had learned in the Circle, and more. He made sure to teach him how to hide what he taught him too. The safety of their family was paramount. 

But Kaidan was very much like his father. They were both very proud of their magic, and hiding such a big part of themselves hurt them. Kaidan was always impressed by the flashiest aspects of magic. The more obvious it was, the more it impressed him. And he was not the only one impressed. 

With Malcolm away often enough, Leandra busy working and isolated from most of their peers, Kaidan became a rock to his younger siblings. He was idolized by Bethany and Carver. Bethany wanted to be just like him and Carver wanted to beat him. They imagined themselves a trio of adventurers standing side by side as they defeated bandits and dragons.

During moments of frustrated despair, Leandra would mutter or even scream that if it wasn’t for his influence, Bethany would’ve never developed magic. That was not true, of course. But as a child, Kaidan took most of what his mother said as the truth. Why would she lie? 

His sister was a mage like him! Like their father! He couldn’t wait to teach her everything his father had taught him and for them to learn together during lessons. And they did, for a while. Until Malcolm was no longer among them, and Kaidan was left to mentor his sister alone.

He learned to become more subtle and restrained with his magic. They were in more danger than ever. And the constant reminders from his mother to Watch over your little sister, love. She is not like you, she needs protection-- were always at the back of his mind. 

Without realizing it, he became the pillar of the family. Everyone waited on him to make a decision before moving forward. But no matter what he chose, he couldn’t make everyone happy. Why let him decide only to later resent his choices? 

The constant hiding took a toll on the family. Especially on young Carver, who found it hard to separate the love he had for his brother and sister from his desire to blame magic for all their problems. It caused no end of conflicts between the brothers. 

Neither Carver nor Kaidan were shy about voicing their thoughts, and their arguments were, more often than not, cataclysmic. Only Bethany could calm the waters using reason or quips. Their mother was no help, she often fanned the flames by disregarding their reasons and siding with whoever “had the interest of their family in mind.” Something that could vary greatly depending on her interpretation. 

With Kaidan at the lead, Leandra took a backseat role as she had done with Malcom. There was no guidance, no advice and no direction from her. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t reprimanded, blamed or criticized at every turn. He realized early on that no matter his reasoning, he was never going to be right unless his mother decided he was. Kaidan took the brunt of it, and made sure to insulate his brother and sister from the worst of their mother’s behavior. And to do damage control when they couldn’t avoid it.

Most of it took a backseat in his mind. He was more concerned with keeping his family alive and healthy and fed when the threat of darkspawn loomed before them. But he was forced to deal with a hundred things at once when his little brother came back from the field with grave news. King Cailan was dead, Loghain had betrayed the King and the darkspawn were coming.

He sprung into action as he always did and guided his family through nightmarish sights. The magic that had so often put them in danger saved them again and again. But they didn’t see an end to the terror. Their mother offered a sliver of hope, a direction. Kirkwall. They would reconnect with her family and seek shelter there. All he had to do was get them to the city. His mother would do the rest.

Their cheer lasted minutes. The hope was extinguished by a defiant scream, a thud and the crackle of broken bones. He had thought he’d left them in the safest place. Away from the thick of battle. But was there ever a safest place in the middle of a battlefield?

Bethany laid dead at their mother’s feet, giving her life to save her. Doing what she had always seen her brother do. Use her gifts to protect their family. Bethany had died, doing what was supposed to be his job. 

Leandra wailed and screamed. Kaidan wasn’t sure how he could hear her above the sounds of grunts and spells and swords clashing. But he could. It was the only thing he could hear. When their enemies were defeated he ran to them. He fell to his knees and extended a trembling hand to his sister. His mother snarled and gripped her daughter’s body closer and Kaidan snapped his hand back. 

There was pain in Leandra’s eyes, there was grief, rage, anger. There was also accusation. Possessiveness. This was her pain, her eyes said. And he had done this to her.

“Bethany risked her life to save us, Mother.” Kaidan tried to make her see.

“I don’t want a hero, I want my daughter. How could you let her charge off like that!?”

How could you? 

The thought ricocheted in his head but he didn’t dare voice it.

He never spoke up. It was his fault. It must’ve been. Right?

It was thanks to Carver’s prompting that they pushed themselves forward. Leandra’s focus shifted and she held onto his brother as if she were drowning. She wouldn’t look at Kaidan. Not through the whole journey across the sea. Not until they were on solid ground, right at the gates, and being asked to turn back.

Then she looked at him again and asked, “What are we going to do?”

Kaidan sighed. The way forward looked very much like the way back.

But he couldn’t help himself. He met the guards at the gates.

“There must be something you can do, good sir. Maybe let the good looking ones through. I assure you, we qualify!” 

His smile was back on. But only Carver noticed it was crooked. 

[hovercraft79]

Magic

Chapters: 1

Word Count: 5,703

Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)

Rating: Teen

Warnings: general family discord

Summary: Still roiling from Hecate’s entrapment in the mirror, Ada and Hecate cling to one another, thankful for the chance to be together. Just in time. As Agatha’s influence grows within the school, they’re going to need each other more than ever.

Notes: This fic covers the Week 7 prompt ‘confession.’

The title of this week’s fic is from the title of Olivia Newton-John’s song. Yes, that one. The one from Xanadu. The movie I actually own a DVD of. Don’t judge me - seeing it as a child was a very formative experience. For those of you who may be unfamiliar, the movie stars Newton-John as a muse, Michael Beck as an artist in need of inspiration and Gene Kelly as a washed-up musician. And they were all on roller skates. I said don’t judge me.

Once again, this fic is much improved by Sparky’s faithful editing.

No matter how hard she tried to avoid it, wakefulness kept creeping over Hecate. She snuggled deeper into her pillow, which was warm and cozy and… breathing? Hecate’s eyes popped open. She lifted her head and found herself gazing into the serene blue of Ada’s eyes. “Ada?”

“Mmm… Good morning,” Ada smiled warmly down at her. “Afternoon, really.” She traced her fingers softly over Hecate’s cheek, which was now imprinted with the weave of her jumper. “Glad you’re back.”

Hecate leaned into Ada’s touch. “Glad to be back.” She shifted, her shoulder starting to ache – a lasting memento of her time with Mistress Broomhead.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Grunting, Hecate shook her head. “I’m wearing sports clothes… and a splotchy red herringbone pattern on my face.”

“Like I said…” Ada winced as Hecate shifted again.

“I’m sorry… I should mo—”

Ada covered Hecate’s lips with her finger. “When you were trapped in the mirror, I had this moment…  You were gone and it was all so real… you might stay gone forever. That made me realize… well, that I’ve been a foolish old woman.” She traced Hecate’s eyebrow and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve found someone to love and, for reasons I can’t comprehend, she loves me back. How could I let some responsibility I never chose get in the way of that?” She lifted her chin. “I can’t. Not anymore. So… if you want to budge up because you’re uncomfortable, then do so. But if the only reason you’re moving is because you think I want you to, I can assure you I’d prefer you stay exactly where you are.”

Eyes shining with tears, Hecate nodded before burying herself in Ada’s arms. Sighing, she let herself melt against Ada, warmth flowing through her as she felt Ada press a soft kiss against the top of her head.

 The noise from the Dining Hall spilled into the hallway despite the closed doors. Hecate paused for a moment to listen. Normally, the cacophony of nearly one hundred teenaged girls was enough to set her nerves jangling. Not now. Now the boisterous noisiness provided its own sort of comfort – a reminder that she was where she was meant to be. Even though she’d been trapped in the mirror little more than a day, the differences still haunted her. One of those differences had been the girls. As Ada always said, happy girls are noisy girls. The girls in the mirror had been eerily quiet.

Shaking herself back into the present, Hecate pushed through the doors. She’d spent most of the walk to the Dining Hall steeling herself for another meal stuck between Geraldine Gullet and Gwen Bat. At least Gwen could carry on an intelligent conversation – in a voice that didn’t sound like she was scraping a burned potion out of the bottom of a cauldron with a metal spoon.

She scanned the teachers’ table, stopping short when she realized that only one of the Cackle twins was present. Ada, she guessed, since she was seated at the end of the table.

“Care to join me?” Ada asked, suddenly at her elbow.

Once she’d managed to swallow her heart back down into her chest, Hecate nodded. She followed Ada to the table, eyes moving back and forth between her and her sister. She’d overlooked Agatha’s lack of glasses, simply assuming because she was in Ada’s usual chair that she must be Ada.

When they arrived at the table, Geraldine pulled out the chair between her own and Agatha’s. “Here you go, Miss Cackle, we’ve saved a spot just for you.”

“Thank you, Miss Gullet, but I’ll take a spot down here. I have a few things to discuss with Miss Hardbroom.” Ada sat down and patted the chair beside her.

Hecate gingerly lowered herself into the chair, feeling a bit more like the world was as it should be.

----- 

Geraldine groaned for the third time in as many minutes from the chair in front of Hecate. Rolling her eyes, Hecate checked the time on her watch again. The weekly staff meeting should have started ten minutes ago. It wasn’t like Ada to be late. On the contrary, she preferred arriving early to take advantage of the weekly order of pastries and all the latest gossip.

Finally, Agatha stepped to the front of the staff lounge and began the morning’s agenda. “We have a few items to go over. First, as you all know, every four years the Magic Council sponsors the Witchcathalon competition. Magical schools from across Britain compete for the honor of representing Britain in the international finals. Now, after a disappointing finish four years ago, my sister and I are determined to see Cackle’s reclaim its status as champion. Please develop your action plans to improve our performance and have those ready by meeting-time next week.”

Hecate struggled to focus as Agatha droned on about inconsequential things, snapping back to attention when she started discussing their latest OfWitch inspection results. Surely they should have waited for Ada to deliver that information. “As expected, Cackle’s Academy scored well.” She let the pleased twitter spread through the room before allowing it to subside. “However, my sister and I are disappointed to say that the score wasn’t perfect in most areas.” Agatha summoned a short stack of papers and floated them out to the teachers. “As you can see, our greatest area of weakness is Health and Safety. Only one teacher scored a perfect one hundred percent. Let’s all give Miss Gullet a round of applause.”

An anemic smattering of applause dribbled in, petering out quickly. Geraldine’s gloating smile faded into a pout.

“Since we have such an exemplar of Health and Safety with us,” Agatha carried on, “We’ve assigned Miss Gullet to conduct regular inspections of the different areas so that she may offer her expertise to any of our teachers who might need it.” This caused Geraldine to resume gloating like a puffed-up toad.

“Well done, Miss Gullet,” Ada said as she entered the staff room at last. She nodded at Agatha. “Please, do continue.”

“We’ve just finished. Dismissed, all. Don’t forget your action plans for next week.”

Her crumpled report in her hand, Hecate snatched up the rest of her things so she could leave, but Ada signaled her to stay.

Ada approached her sister, hands clasped tightly behind her back. “Sister, didn’t you tell me I was to expect a mirror call from the Great Witch at nine o’clock? I was meant to call her at eight o’clock.”

“Oh…” Agatha blinked innocently at her sister. “Did I get that wrong? Oh, dear. I suppose that’s how it goes as we age, forgetfulness you know. After all, you’re older than I am.” She grinned at Ada. “Well, no harm done, I’m sure. Have a good day, sister. I’ll see you for our portrait sitting this afternoon.”

Ada started to respond but snapped her mouth closed so quickly that Hecate could hear her teeth clicking together. She took a deep breath before facing Hecate. “What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing the anger radiating off Hecate.

“This is what’s wrong.” Hecate sent the report floating into Ada’s hands, unwrinkling it as it went.

Plucking the paper from the air, Ada scanned through it. “I assume the issue is your ninety-seven percent in Health and Safety?” Ada cocked her head. “Ninety-seven is a perfectly good score, Hecate. I know you’d prefer to make full marks, but—”

“I should have made full marks, Ada. I was docked three percent because the inspector found an unsanitary terrarium of Mus musculus on my desk.”

“Mice? I’m sure it was just an oversight or something—”

“My students were practicing the identification of crow’s feathers compared to raven’s feathers and their inherent properties. Miss Gullet’s Spell Science classes, however, were working on holding spells. May I remind you what creature is considered best practice for use in teaching a holding spell?”

“I’m well aware that it’s mice, Hecate. I’m sure there’s a perfectly innocent explanation for it.”

Hecate simply raised an eyebrow. For a moment, neither woman would back down. Then Ada vanished the report and sighed again.

“Fine. I’ll concede that innocent is not an adjective typically used to describe Miss Gullet.”

“I should say not,” Hecate agreed, drily.

“Will you come to the portrait sitting this afternoon? Once your classes are over?” Ada’s hopeful tone was hard to miss.

“Hmmm… watching you and your sister sit for a portrait… that sounds quite as exciting as watching toadspawn dry.”

“That’s a yes, then?”

Hecate waggled her head back and forth as she pretended to think it over. “Of course.”

-----

Sitting for a portrait. Hecate snorted. That was certainly false packaging, she thought. The session had started late, thanks to the twins bickering over what to wear. Hecate had quickly turned her attention to studying the Ostium Alternis as they kept at their squabble. They’d finally compromised on dress blouses and skirts, neither of them happy with the choice, but Agatha particularly dissatisfied. She’d fussed and fidgeted the entire afternoon, irritating everyone involved. Of course, there was a price to be paid for that, Hecate thought, smirking every time she looked at the portrait. Ada, seated, looked lovely and kind in her red dress. Agatha, on the other hand, stood looming and dour in her dark blue dress. Hecate hoped she would be present when Agatha finally saw her likeness, though she sympathized with Ada for the tantrum she would have to endure.

As expected, Agatha’s first glimpse of the portrait provoked another disagreement. Hecate was pleased to say Ada more than held her own, finally sending Agatha retreating with scathing last words: “Perhaps you’ll learn not to act like the arse end of a troll with the artist painting your portrait!” A chortling Hecate had been forced to dematerialize for several long minutes after that, buzzing ears be damned.

“I’ll pay for it for weeks, you know,” Ada said with a grim sort of humor. “No doubt she’s brewing up some sort of revenge even as we speak.” She handed Hecate a cup of tea and a biscuit. Ada waved her cup at what was left of the mirror – a few shards stuck in a broken frame. Pulling Hecate free had caused it to shatter. “You’ve been studying that for hours now. Any brilliant epiphanies?”

“I’m afraid not.” She glanced at Ada. “I know I was in there for scarcely more than a day, but… I keep dreaming about it. I… I know that this is my life, the one I’m meant to live, but…”

“It’s no small thing to be given a glimpse into what might have been,” Ada soothed. “When mother said things on the other side would be different… well, I must confess that I worried that you would choose to stay.” The white-knuckle grip on her teacup belied the calmness in her voice. “Freedom is no small thing to give up. Plus, you still had Pippa, Indigo was alive and well… I hardly know why you’d come back.”

“Freedom for me, perhaps, but at what cost? Pippa’s freedom? That’s quite the devil’s bargain. And yes, Indigo seemed happy enough, but a whole school of other children was miserable.” Hecate set her teacup aside and threaded her arm through Ada’s. “Most importantly, you were not you. The Ada in that world was a cruel, vindictive harridan. I wanted my Ada back.” Stepping in front of Ada, Hecate cupped her cheek. “You are more than enough to bring me back, Ada Cackle. Whatever that other life may have promised, it didn’t have you. You are my first choice.” Her lips trembled into a smile, and she brushed an errant tear from Ada’s cheek with her thumb.

Ada could feel her cheeks heating. “And you mine.” They stood together, enjoying the feeling of just being, knowing they shared the same feelings. After a moment, Ada cleared her throat and pointed at the mirror’s remains. “It still doesn’t explain this, does it? I can’t imagine any of our girls getting into something like this, but it seems even more farfetched that anyone else would try to harm one of the girls.”

Turning back to the frame, Hecate tilted her head, lips pressed in a thin line. At her sides, her thumbs rubbed furiously across her fingertips. “I don’t think it was meant for one of the girls.” Ada’s eyes flew open wide. “Veronica said it wasn’t there when she hid in the alcove the first time. That was already after curfew. If someone meant to harm one of the students, why place the mirror after they were all meant to be in their rooms? Why not place it there earlier in the evening?”

“It certainly seems likelier that it would be meant for an adult, but still… one of the teachers?” Ada staggered backwards, landing heavily on the sofa. “Then… you’re saying it was meant for you? You were doing rounds that night!”

Hecate chewed at her bottom lip, hesitant. “But I wasn’t supposed to be, remember?”

Ada’s eyes roamed the room as she thought about it. Dropping her head in her hands, Ada groaned, low and mournful. “It was Thursday. My night. I was so worried… I just… I don’t think it even occurred to me. You’re scheduled to do rounds on Wednesday.”

“That’s right. Indigo’s… anniversary had fallen on the previous Wednesday. You’d offered to trade so I could have the evening free after my appointment with Miss Hagsmet.”

“But you already had a detention scheduled for that Thursday, so you took the next.” Her face puckered as she processed the implications of that. “Who would want to do that to me?” Ada’s expression hardened as Hecate said nothing. “It wasn’t Agatha.”

“I didn’t say that it was.”

“But you think it could be,” Ada pressed.

“It could be almost anyone,” Hecate conceded. “It could even be nothing more than a student prank that got out of hand. The only thing I know with absolute certainty is that I didn’t place that mirror in the hallway and neither did you.” She chuckled softly. “I’m also fairly confident it wasn’t Gwen Bat.”

Ada tried to picture Gwen laying out a trap with an enchanted mirror. The image brought a rueful smile of her own. “I would tend to agree.” She pushed herself up on unsteady legs. “I’m going to send out a directive to all the staff – no one is to do rounds alone until further notice. We need to find out what it takes to create an Ostium Alternis.”

“I’ll start researching straight away.”

-----

Hecate squeezed her eyes closed, trying to work up enough tears to quench the burning in her eyes. She’d spent almost all day in the library, researching the Ostium in the restricted section. Miss Inkwell had announced to the handful of students present that the library would soon be closing for the evening. Snapping her book closed, Hecate floated it back to its place on the shelf.

Few books had mentioned an Ostium Alternis Vitae. None explained how to create one. The book in Ada’s office had been the only one with the spell for rescuing someone trapped in one. Hecate rolled her shoulder, trying to loosen it up after a day of little use.

A soft tapping caused her to open her eyes. “Miss Inkwell, apologies… I was just…”

“Thinking? Sleeping? Passed out from lack of food? You’ve been in here all day.” She waved a pair of dawdling girls along. “I take it you haven’t had any luck finding whatever it is that’s kept you in that chair all day.”

“Let’s say thinking, shall we?” Sniffing deeply, Hecate sent her notes back to her rooms. Whispering in a back corner caught her attention. “Depart, girls! Curfew begins in ten minutes!” She called in her most Miss Hardbroom-y voice.

“You know… as the librarian, you could let me help you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” She leaned closer. “Rumor has it there’s been a magic mirror floating about.”

Hecate felt her stomach drop. While what had happened could hardly have been kept secret with Veronica Catsear’s involvement, she and Ada had hoped that tales of her mishap wouldn’t spread through the castle with quite the speed of balefire. “Thank you, but… it’s a bit of a personal matter.”

“Bats. Just when I was hoping to find out who’s the fairest of them all.” Miss Inkwell sighed dramatically before magicking out the table lamps. “Suit yourself, just remember – all you have to do is ask. I can assure you of my discretion. It’s why I’m here. Librarians don’t search and tell, you know.”

Hecate choked on her own saliva. She’d heard that phrase before. In another library that wasn’t quite this one, from another librarian that wasn’t quite Miss Inkwell. Faint memories of a small envelope flickered into her mind. “Th-thank you,” she stammered, already rushing for the door. She was halfway to the corridor before it occurred to her to transfer.

Scrabbling to keep her feet after her sloppy landing, Hecate flung open the door of her clothes cupboard. She rifled through her clothes, missing it twice before she found the sports uniform she’d been wearing when Ada pulled her back into this reality. She fumbled in the pockets until her fingers closed around an envelope. “It’s real,” she breathed. Part of her had feared she’d imagined it. With trembling fingers, she opened it and pulled out Miss Inkwell’s results. She scanned through it before reading it through more carefully. She’d done it. The other Miss Inkwell had found out how to undo the marriage scroll. She needed to take the note to Ada straight away.

Didn’t she?

Hecate leaned against the cupboard with one hand, studying the note she held with the other. The elation she expected to feel hadn’t materialized. Instead, a new strain of anxiety twisted in her belly. They wanted this, didn’t they? Even though it was made of paper, the note weighed like a stone in her hand.

Breaking the marriage scroll is a beginning, not an ending, she told herself. Again and again. Hecate pushed herself upright. She convinced herself that it didn’t matter. Ada needed to know that they could be released from one another. She slipped the paper back into the envelope before tucking it up her sleeve and spelling it into place for safekeeping.

Hecate transferred to the hallway just outside Ada’s office. As she lifted her hand to knock, she heard raised voices coming from inside. Lowering her hand, unsure of whether to knock or go away, Hecate wound up listening to the row – a rambling brawl that covered everything from childhood disagreements, pedagogy, the color of Ada’s hair… Hecate could hardly follow the train of it.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of glass crashing against stone, then silence. Jerking away from the door, she transferred around the corner just as Agatha stormed out. She’d barely rematerialized when Agatha slammed into her.

“Get out of the way!” Agatha rammed Hecate’s bad shoulder as she passed, spinning her around.

Hecate stumbled against the wall, knocking the air out of her lungs. Bent at the waist, hands on her knees, she sucked in air, trying to catch her breath.

Gentle hands stroked her back. “She shouldn’t have done that… I’m sorry you’ve had to bear the brunt of our argument.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Hecate gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I was eavesdropping outside the door.” She took a deep breath, slowly blowing it out. Wincing as she straightened, Hecate rolled her shoulder, vainly trying to ease the ache.

“I thought I felt your magic nearby.” She wrapped a steadying arm around Hecate, resting her hand on her hip. “I could do with… well… I rather think I could do with a glass of wine. Care to join me?” Hecate nodded and allowed Ada to lead her into the office.

Once they were inside, Ada set her protective wards. She didn’t care for any more disturbances tonight – she certainly didn’t want to hear anything more from her sister. She magicked another log onto the fire and a bottle of wine on the coffee table. Hecate stepped forward, but Ada held her back.

“Let me.” Ada warmed her hands with a tiny trickle of magic and placed them on Hecate’s shoulder. She let the heat soak in for a moment before rubbing light circles with her thumbs. Hecate stiffened for a moment but didn’t move away. Bit by bit, Ada increased the pressure, pleased when Hecate’s rigid posture eased. She shifted her hands down, massaging the muscles just below her shoulder blade. A satisfied grin spread across Ada’s face as she felt Hecate relax beneath her fingers. “Does this help?”

“Not really,” Hecate admitted, “but it feels delightful while you’re doing it.”

“Good enough for me,” Ada said, chuckling. She pictured the pattern of pale scars that ran down Hecate’s shoulder, tracing where she thought they went with her hands. Someday she wouldn’t have to rely on the memories of one brief glance she’d had of the injury when Hecate was in the infirmary. Someday, she’d be able to run her fingers across Hecate’s bare skin. “You know… any time you want one of these, all you have to do is ask. I’m more than willing.”

Hecate reached up and placed her hand over Ada’s. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Turning her head, she pressed the back of Ada’s hand to her cheek. Since she’d returned, Ada seemed to have come to terms with her role as Sealkeeper. Hesitant touches and warm words had become almost routine, though neither had worked up the nerve to share that first kiss. Hecate’s chest warmed at the memory of a late-night walk on the roof, ostensibly to check the wards, when Ada’s hand had slipped into hers, their fingers lacing together.

The note up her sleeve practically burned against her skin. Ada deserved to know that they could end their marriage. Fake marriage, she reminded herself. But now didn’t seem the right time. Ada was obviously still rattled by her argument with Agatha. Moreover, Hecate knew the massage was soothing Ada’s jangled nerves  as much as it was her shoulder -not that she would complain about why she was getting a massage. Later, she said to herself. I’ll tell Ada later. To Ada she said, “How about we have that glass of wine?

-----

Even from her spot in the back, Hecate could see the strain Ada carried as she conducted the weekly staff meeting. A glance at the table, still piled high with sweets, told her Ada wasn’t the only one feeling anxious. Typically, the weekly treats, from Cosie’s Old Mill Tea Rooms in the village, were devoured before the meeting ever started. Today, it seemed that no one had much of an appetite. A week of Geraldine Gullet, prowling the castle with her clipboard in hand, had left everyone frazzled and annoyed. After her second ‘inspection,’ Hecate had banned Geraldine from the potions lab. Tamping down her irritation, Hecate refocused her attention on Ada.

“I just know that this year will be Cackle’s year in the Witchtathlon compe—” Ada stopped when Agatha loudly cleared her throat. A dimple that only appeared when Ada was particularly annoyed showed clearly at the corner of her mouth. “Yes, Agatha?”

“I noted that both Miss Gullet and Miss Hardbroom have listed Penny Pestle on their teams. The rules state that a girl may compete in only one event. She’ll have to be dropped from either the potions or the spells competition.”

Hecate narrowed her eyes. “Miss Pestle won first prize in her Second-Year potions project – as did each girl on my team during her second year.”

Geraldine twisted around in her seat. “Well I’m bloody well not giving her up! She’s the best Spell Science student in her form! You can just pick some other girl to lose in potions.”

“Ladies!” Ada raised her hands, signaling both women to stop. Geraldine huffed and turned back to the front while Hecate glowered daggers at the back of her head. “We’ll sort it – after I’ve spoken with Penny myself.” With a few last details about upcoming events for the week, Ada dismissed them. She stepped into the hallway to wish each one a good day as they left, stepping back in as soon as she realized Geraldine and Hecate had not left the staff room.

“I tell you, you aren’t gettin’ her!” Geraldine insisted, her voice even more nasally than usual. “Just because I’m not going around trying to get my way by cozying up to the Headmistress…”

“I beg your pardon!” Hecate drew herself up to her full height. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Miss Gullet, but my personal life is none of your business. I’ll have you know—” She cut herself off as Ada stepped between them.

“I believe Spell Science with the First-Years is starting, is it not?” Ada asked, her voice treacly sweet. “Let’s dive back into this cauldron later. In my office.”

“It’s not bloody fair!” Geraldine spat as she stalked out of the room.

Ada turned back to Hecate just in time to see her transfer away. She blew out a gust of air, irritated with Agatha, with Geraldine, with herself… She hadn’t been so foolish as to think that her relationship with Hecate would go unnoticed, though she’d hoped they would have time to find their footing before it was fodder for the gossip mill. We haven’t even kissed yet, Ada groused. They shouldn’t have to deal with this nonsense this early. Shaking her head, Ada went in search of Penny Pestle.

As expected, when Ada pulled the girl from Witchory, Miss Pestle wanted to compete in potions. Miss Gullet would no doubt snap a broomstick. A prickle of a headache started at the base of Ada’s skull just from thinking about Geraldine’s screeching voice.

Lunch came and went with no sign of Hecate. Ada took the opportunity to tell Geraldine that Penny wanted to compete in potions. She tried to offer some alternatives, but Geraldine would hear none of it, moving to an empty seat on the other side of Agatha. Ada tried to ignore their dramatics and focus on her food, but she couldn’t stop casting furtive glances down the table. She didn’t manage anything more than pushing her peas around her plate. She gave that up when Agatha slid into the chair next to her.

“I must say, Ada, Miss Gullet is rather displeased. I do hope you aren’t showing Miss Hardbroom any… special privileges.”

Running her tongue along the inside of her cheek, Ada inhaled a long breath. “I spoke with Miss Pestle, Agatha. Miss Gullet never asked her to compete in spells; she simply put her down. The girl wants to compete in potions. She’s already begun practicing with the other girls on the team. It has nothing to do with Miss Hardbroom.”

Agatha faked a smile. “That’s good to hear, sister. I’m sure you can see how one might… wonder. Especially if Hecate gets the girl for her team…”

“The girl she actually asked to be on her team.”

“Miss Hardbroom is getting all those expensive new cauldrons while the rest of us are told to tighten our belts,” Agatha added.

“Mother authorized that expenditure last year, as you well know.”

“As you say,” Agatha quickly raised her hands to ward off any protest. “But even you must admit it looks… inappropriate.  It certainly makes one wonder what her… motivations might be.  A young, attractive thing like her?” Agatha made a point of looking Ada up and down, lingering on her midsection. “I mean, I can see why you’d want to show her special attention, but her? Well… they do say love is blind.” She slapped the table. “I’ll let you get back to your lunch.”

Ada watched her sister leave, taking what was left of her appetite with her. Perhaps Hecate had the right idea when she chose to skip lunch. She forced herself to make small talk with Miss Swoop before taking her leave. Her mood was already ruined. She may as well work on the monthly expense reports.

 One by one, the First-Year girls filed out of the potions lab, still giggling from the effects of their laughter potion. Ada idly wondered if a nip of the leftovers would improve her day. When it seemed the last girl had exited, she stepped into the room, softly closing the door behind her. “Are you avoiding everyone today? Or just me?”

Hecate glanced up at her before continuing to clean up after her class – by hand, a sure sign that the day had gone widdershins for her, too. “Everyone but you,” she said, finally. She folded her hand towel into precise quarters before placing it carefully on her workbench. “I tried to speak with Miss Pestle this morning…”

Ada stepped further into the lab. “Yes, she said she wishes to stay on the potions team.”

“Did she?” Hecate tapped her fingers against the casing of her pocket watch. “I didn’t have the opportunity to speak to her directly.” She cut her eyes to the floor and didn’t look up again. “When I arrived at the classroom, I overheard her discussing the matter with Mavis Spellbody. Before I could announce my presence, I heard young Miss Spellbody tell her that she needn’t worry about anything because – and I quote – ‘Miss Cackle is sweet on Miss Hardbroom so she won’t take you off her team.’”

Hecate was still staring at the floor. Ada stepped closer, close enough to gently lift Hecate’s chin. “She’s not entirely wrong you know. I am a bit sweet on you.”

“It’s not funny, Ada. The students are speculating about… about our… love life.” Hecate’s cheeks burned in embarrassment. “We don’t even… we haven’t even…”

Ada cupped her cheek before letting her fingers trail down Hecate’s arm and tangle with hers. “It’s all right, dear. All in due time.”

Her hand felt warm in Ada’s.  “Perhaps I’m overreacting. We’ve never said we’d keep this…” she shook their joined hands back and forth, “a secret. I just can’t stand the thought of being the subject of staff room gossip. What must people say?”

“I don’t want to keep it a secret either. We’ve done nothing wrong. We’re doing nothing wrong. Not that I’m looking to get snogged in the middle of the Dining Room, but…” That, at least, got a weak smile. “As for what they might say… I can tell you what Agatha said. She said the only reason an attractive young woman such as yourself would be with a relic like me is either because you’re using me or I’m using you.”

“That’s not so different from what Geraldine said to me this morning.” Hecate pulled away. She didn’t know if now was the right time, or if there would ever be a right time, but she didn’t feel right about keeping her secret from Ada any longer. “I’m afraid I have a bit of a confession to make…” She pulled the envelope from its place in her sleeve. “When I was in the mirror, I asked that Miss Inkwell to help me find a way to break the marriage scroll. Everything was so topsy-turvy.” Hecate looked up at her and shrugged. “She found it.”

Ada took the envelope from Hecate’s outstretched hand and tucked it into her pocket without reading it. “You’ve had it all this time?”

Hecate nodded. “I should have told you straight away… but we always seemed to be in the middle of something. I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes, waiting for Ada’s anger, or worse, her disappointment, to hit. It didn’t.

“I suppose things have been… topsy-turvy.” Fighting down an unexpected feeling of disappointment, Ada took up Hecate’s hand again. “Well, I for one say ‘good riddance’ to that scroll. I don’t want our future to be forced on us, Hecate. As much as I want us… I want any joining to be our choice.

“And as for Miss Gullet,” Ada sighed, “I heard what she said.” She took Hecate’s other hand in hers. “They aren’t what matters, Hecate. You are. We are. Agatha is just… being Agatha. And ten years from now, Geraldine Gullet will have moved on and you’ll still be here.”

Hecate pulled abruptly away. Turning her back to Ada, she hugged herself and staggered a few steps towards the door. “It still all comes down to that, doesn’t it?” Her voice broke. “It’s always going to be hanging over our heads.”

“What are you…” Ada could feel the blood draining from her face into her gut when she realized what Hecate meant. “NO! I’m not talking about that. Hecate…” Hurrying to her, Ada wrapped her arms around Hecate from behind. “I only meant that we will still be together, my dear. I hadn’t even thought about your confinement.” She felt Hecate relax against her, just a little.

“What does it even matter? In fifty years, everyone will be gone, and I’ll… I’ll still be here.” She twisted in Ada’s arms, wrapping her own arms around Ada’s waist and crying into her hair. “I don’t even think this cursed confinement will let them remove my corpse when I die. I can’t even be buried in the Hardbroom family plot.”

Ada rocked her gently back and forth, cradling the back of her head with one hand whilst rubbing soothing circles on her back with the other. “Sshhh… that’s a long ride down the river, dear. Who knows what could happen between now and then?” Ada pulled back just enough to see Hecate’s eyes. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. I hope that when the time comes, that you’ll be with me in the Cackle family plot. With your family.”

Hecate buried her face again and sobbed even harder. Ada kept rocking her. “You can’t… mean that,” she managed to choke out.

“I’ve never meant anything more, Hecate. You’re my first choice. You’ll always be my first choice.”

[irrelevantwriter]

Decadence

Pairing: (Dracula BBC) Count Dracula x OFC

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, Dracula (that’s it, that’s the warning)

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: Part 2. Elena gets used to her new life with the Count, and finds a way to thank him for it.

AN: This is part two to my mini-series for BBC Dracula. These parts can be read as stand alone fics, but there’s some back story that ties them all together and enhances the established relationship between Dracula and Elena. Dracula does get it in this time so prepare yourselves. I’ve got one more part to add so be on the lookout for that soon. Enjoy and share with your friends! Feedback is that good shit.

*Check out part one: Acceptance

*Check out part three: Indulgence

*Unholy Splendor series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

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

The loft was empty, the heavy curtains pulled tight as she made her way from their resting chambers and to the main areas of living. The apartment was large and cold, a prison to most, a home to her. The décor was dark with sleek lines and modern accents. It was a palace in her eyes. All that was missing was her king. There wasn’t a note or any indication that he’d be returning, but she knew he would. He always came back.

Elena checked the time, seeing it was just after nine o’clock in the evening. Her mouth instantly salivated, a Pavlovian effect to the meaning of the hour. It was feeding time and she was more than famished. Her new status as an immortal was a process. It’d been just three months since her transformation and there was still much to learn. He’d assured her she’d get the hang of such drastic changes; her feedings, the switch from daylight to night, the power behind her movements, the cravings, her insatiable hunger…and not just for food.

At the mere thought of her lover’s embrace she felt herself become aroused, already desperate to have him take her once again. A vampire’s libido was immeasurable. She wanted him all the time, at every waking moment. Too much was just never enough. And as she looked out onto the city streets bathed in darkness, she knew he felt the same. He may be her master, her dark lord, but he was just as influenced by her as she was him. And he could rarely say no to her.

She felt a prickle of familiarity in her spine, the signal that he was near. She smiled, knowing that he would come through the door with dinner, a thermos of warm human blood just for her. He would’ve fed himself already and then set out on acquiring her nourishment until she was ready to hunt with him. He took care of her. He became her teacher, her governor, her god, her lover…her husband. And he’d given her eternity with him. She’d never be able to repay him, but she’d spend all of time trying.

“Anyone hungry?”

Elena turned to the front door, taking in the tall figure that practically glided through it and towards her. Two sets of dark eyes met in a cascade of adoration, lust, worship, and intimacy. Dracula approached his bride, his handsome features molding into that charming smile she loved so much. His hair was slightly windblown, but otherwise perfectly coiffed as always. His impeccably tailored black suit ran the long lines of his body, making him appear as if he stood even taller over her petite frame. Encased in his hand was a silver thermos, the remnants of a beating heart confined behind the temperature controlled walls.

“Ravenous.” She replied cheekily, angling her neck so that she could stare up at him. His free hand cradled her face, drawing back strands of long raven hair as he did. His thumb ran over her lips, his longing as palpable as hers.

“Are you feeling alright?” He whispered, the carefully concealed care showing as he stared down at her. She watched as he took note of her face, studying her for signs of discomfort.

“Perfect now.” She playfully nibbled at his appendage, allowing her tongue to quickly swipe at it before retreating. As she predicted, his eyes grew heavy, the depthless pools swirling in a storm of barely contained desire.

“Food has that effect.” He challenged, voice steady but his eyes gave him away. She noticed how his gaze flitted to her body, taking in her female form with appreciation. The black nightie she wore was one he’d picked out for her, the edges of it trimmed in delicate white lace. He’d made a comment when he gifted it to her about how it was the perfect embodiment of her spirit…dark and light, good and evil.

She inwardly basked in his appraisal of her, his approval meaning more to her than she dared to admit. “It’s not the food.” Her voice lowered slightly, overtaken by lust once the object of her desire had joined her. Thoughts of feeding were left behind and all she could focus on was having Dracula inside her.

He smirked, enjoying her shameless tongue. His hand tilted her chin up, his eyes zeroing in on the spot he’d claimed her and made her his forever. He didn’t have a pulse or heartbeat to read, but he did have certain tells that let her know just how much she was affecting him. He licked his lips, slowly and with purpose. His upper lip twitched ever so slightly, his taste for pleasure tied to his relentless appetite. And then there was the very prominent bulge beneath the confines of his trousers…the bulge that he brushed up against her hip.

“My new bride has quite the unquenchable thirst.” Dracula taunted, hand now tangling in her hair. Elena laughed lowly, silently agreeing with his sentiments, though the man was not any better. She reached for the thermos still clutched in his hand and set it on the table, holding his eyes the entire time.

“I missed you.” She confessed, pouting her lips slightly to convey her displeasure at finding him gone when she’d awoken.  

“I was only gone an hour.” He retorted flatly, not playing into her game. He eyed the thermos, displeased with her actions. “You need to eat, my dear.”

“An hour away from you feels like an eternity. Doesn’t it?” She mused as she played with his hand, entwining their fingers. She chose to ignore his instructions, instead focusing on the hardened muscle that begged for her attention, despite her husband’s words.

Dracula’s face softened, the fine lines smoothing as he watched her kiss his hand, her lips lingering on the tips of his fingers.

“Yes, it does.” He admitted softly.

Elena hesitated slightly at the declaration, not used to him being so straightforward with his emotions. The man loved to keep his feelings a mystery, claiming a majority of the time that he didn’t have the capacity to feel. But she knew better. And now that she was one with him, she could spot a lie if he spoke it.

She leaned into his sturdy form, her breasts pressing against the firmness of his chest. She grasped his hand in hers and placed it against her cheek, her face nuzzling into the now familiar coolness that lingered in his touch. It was a sensation she sought out often, no longer seeking warmth from another living being but the hollowness of the man who’d given her everything.

“You take such good care of me. Let me take care of you, my love.” She purred against his palm, catching the faintest of grunts from his lips. He made no move to succumb to her, but she knew he would. He always did. He just liked to extend her misery by making her work for it.

“You need your strength for such a job. You should eat.” He demanded again, tone as stern as a headmaster’s. It had an effect, just not the one he was anticipating.

“I plan on it.”

Elena reached on her tiptoes and brought his face forward, crashing his lips against hers. He responded immediately, the taste of her too tantalizing to ignore. Hands tugged at clothing as she took a step back and perched herself on the surface of the black marble table. Dracula followed, his mouth straying from her lips and travelling over the smooth canvas of her neck. His bite was not visible on her immortal body, but he remembered the placement well, remembered how smoothly his teeth sunk into her skin. It was like a knife cutting butter. Her flesh was made for his consumption, her blood now running through his veins. A parting gift.

She moaned when his hands delved under the hem of her black negligee, bunching the material at her waist. His hands stroked over her thighs and hips, coaxing her legs open to accommodate him. She complied as best she could while standing, gripping the lapels of his suit jacket so that she didn’t lose her balance. He responded by burying his face into the crook of her neck, her onyx hair falling around him like a curtain from the probing sun. He lifted her and set her gently on the tabletop, his teeth biting delicately at the phantom bite he’d bestowed her with.

“I need you…” She unabashedly begged when his tongue licked a long strip up her neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her core against his blatant arousal.

“Take what you need.” He breathed into her ear, sending a shiver up her spine.

They got lost in the feeling of each other, Elena still reveling in the heightened sensations that her newest form allowed her. Everything felt intensified. Colors were brighter. Sounds were clearer. Pleasure was attainable with every touch, nibble, and lick. Sex was new, as if she’d been a virgin and was experiencing it all for the first time again. Dracula had shown her everything and he would continue to do so.

Her hands found their way to the button of his slacks, her lashes batting up at him with all the innocence of a nun. She bit her lip as she pulled at the hem of his shirt, getting closer to her goal. He only watched and waited, hands entangled in her tresses as she moved. He licked his lips, reminiscing on the taste of her. He would never forget what she tasted like. She’d stained his lips and seared herself onto his taste buds. He groaned when she finally freed him from the confines of his pants, her soft hand pleasuring his flesh with rushed jerks. He hissed when she ran her thumb over the tip, greedily soaking up the moisture that had gathered there.

Dracula tried hard to concentrate on her, but her touch was lethal. He’d had many lovers in his lifetime. Some were memorable. Most were not. Elena was different from them all. She was beyond memories, her spirit forever embedded with his. Her touch sparked a fire that he’d thought burned out long ago. It was further proof that he’d made the right decision in choosing her as his eternal partner. She was his.

“Dracula…” Elena called, her lips hovering dangerously close to his manhood. She’d left her perch on the table and lowered herself to her knees, a place she admittingly loved being.

He met her gaze, wide eyes that presented as innocent, but he knew them as anything but. “Feed.” He commanded, heavy hand guiding her mouth to him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head when her mouth surrounded him, saliva coating him like ice cream on a melting popsicle. He’d never been keen on oral sex, the mouth of others not always able to do the trick, but Elena’s mouth was downright sinful. Her tongue moved against him in such a way that had him tugging at the roots of her hair, his hips vibrating with the overwhelming need to thrust. He controlled himself though and let her do as she pleased.

She used her hands in conjunction with her mouth, all parts of her moving like a well-oiled machine. She gazed up at him as she worked, daring him to look away. But he couldn’t. Just like the first time he’d laid eyes on her, he couldn’t look away.

“Stand up, my dear.” He ordered suddenly. She did as he said, accepting the hand he’d offered to help her off her knees. He observed her for a long moment, letting his hand flatten along her throat and chest, a place that no longer held the signs of life. He took immense pride in that.

“You are my finest bride yet.”

Elena’s lips broke into a smile, her body edging closer to his. She felt him place her on the table once again, the gesture not causing the least bit of strain on his face. He pressed closer to her spread thighs, seeking the only heaven he yearned to be granted access to. He held her throat in his hand while she assisted him in joining their bodies. She teased herself with his hardness, coating him in her spilled juices. She angled him so that he nudged her sensitive bundle of nerves, a gasp breaking free from her lips each time.

Their eyes met and he knew the question was coming before she’d even spoken.

“Do you love me?”

“No.” He answered instantly.

She marveled at his ability to keep a straight face, though she could see the slight grimace when she’d pushed him further inside her depths.

“Will you ever love me?”

“No.”

She didn’t flinch at his responses. She expected them. But that didn’t discourage her. It’d become a routine almost. Each time she asked the same questions and each time he supplied the same answers. But something made her continue. Perhaps it was leftover hope from her previous life, but she persisted.

“You’ll fall in love with me, Dracula.��� Elena rasped as she finally sheathed him within her walls. They both let out audible moans, fingertips digging into the cold flesh of the other as they united.

He released a breathy chuckle at her words, amused by her tactics. She was a cunning woman. “You’re wicked.” He mumbled against her lips, his hips setting a torturously slow pace.

Her hands tangled in his hair as she moaned into his mouth, struggling to catch her breath. He growled at the pain she inflicted when she pulled at his hair, her teeth biting at his lower lip.

“I’m yours.”

Her breathy avowal made a surge of ecstasy course through his limbs as he thrust deeper, taking pleasure in the way she whimpered in his arms. He assaulted her chest with kisses, pulling the straps of her lingerie down and exposing her to the chilled air. She leaned back towards the black surface of the table, urging him to follow her so that he could reach the hidden depths within her. Her thighs were secured tightly around his waist as his speed increased. Her back arched so that her hair touched the marble beneath her, her body ripe for the taking. And he indulged fully.

Elena could see bright lights behind her eyelids, the only brightness she’d be willing to throw herself into. Dracula penetrated so deep that she could practically feel him in her throat, words lost on her in the moment. His mouth lavished her skin, his teeth not fangs but still able to leave marks of possession behind. She clutched him within her walls, suffocating his length as he began to lose himself in the pleasure. His hips slammed against her with a new fervor and she held on, granting him permission to take her down with him.

The tide of desire swept both of them under as they each shuddered and tremored. Their limbs became twisted and tangled within each other, needing to anchor themselves to something solid. Euphoria settled over them like a fog as he filled her wanting walls with his spending’s. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, her hand caressing his back through his clothes. It was a tender moment in the afterglow. A delicate moment between two lovers who had the power to kill.

An exhausted laugh fanned across her shoulder as he straightened and peered down at her, still spread wide and encasing him within her. She was a decadent sight and vice versa. Immortality suited them.

“You should feed now, darling.”

His voice was gentle, his hands light as they traced along her face. She leaned forward and he met her halfway, not wanting her to stretch too far. They kissed lazily, their carnal appetites satiated for the time being.

They both pulled away and when they did, Elena embraced him, her head settling on the empty cavity of his chest. No heart laid behind the flesh, but she knew what he was capable of, knew the man was not completely devoid of a heart, even though he lived without its steady rhythm. He returned her embrace and reciprocated her earlier actions by trailing his fingers over her back. She felt content in that moment, knowing that one day, maybe a hundred years from now, Dracula was going to answer yes to her questions.

She had an eternity to look forward to.

[ending-myworld]

do you ever feel like your life is a cycle of bad decision, make up for it... only to then make another bad decision?

my first post, and I’m afraid it’s not a light one. in my life, I find myself in a constant battle with my ability to rationalise good and bad decisions.

I’ve always been a person who is easily influenced. as a teenager and in my early 20′s. this developed to the point of taking drugs, smoking regularly, drinking, and generally other self-destructive behaviour. the issue is, I would always realise when I’d made a grave mistake, that it was a mistake (or a bad choice), and then attempt to make amends with the person or thing that was affected, only to make the same choice again...

that cycle has cost me dearly throughout the years, monetarily, relationships, friendships... everything. simultaneously, I’m almost attacking my own consciousness and broadly, my mental health. at the time of writing this, I can conclusively say that I have just lost the most important person in my life. the worst part is that undeservedly, as well as the guilt, I just plainly feel sorry for myself. I feel hopelessly stuck in this insane cycle, but more on that later.

the thing is, I’m not a stupid guy. my internal assessment of my decision making process is simple. I know what is right, and what is wrong. I know what I want, and what I do not want. but the mystery is that I still make decisions that have catastrophically negative impacts on the things that are ‘right, and that I ‘want’. It’s almost as if, in the moment, I don’t realise the severity or potential consequences of my actions and ultimately result in the loss of my access to such things.

this blog would be longer than the bible if I were to to disseminate all of the bad choices I’ve made in my life. to be honest, maybe a bit of god in my life would be helpful.

I would be lying if I said that I didn’t know quite how dearly these decisions would cost me, because I do. the confusing thing is, I understand the consequences of my actions every single time, and I still proceed as if it’s not a big deal, in the moment.

this assessment is true every time I go out with friends. “oh, it’s just one cigarette, it’s fine”. “just one more drink, it’s fine...”.

and in this case, on this crucially important day in my life, and just as things were going well in my relationship, I fucked up again. the last time I fucked up, it was Christmas, I smoked while out with friends, my partner HATES smoking, and understandably. that took a long time to fix. prior to that, it was to do with my habit for going out and coming home late. 

this was a regular occurrence and something which shares synchronicity with the crux of this post. fundamentally, in the moment, I just don’t think rationally about the cost of me making that choice. I habitually bury my head in the sand and deal with the consequences after. It’s pathetic behaviour, and to be honest, I am proud to say that part of me has been in the past for a number of months.

and life has been good. It has been so good. My partner and I have had fun in lockdown, being silly together and playing chess, just generally making the most of our time together. I have absolutely loved and cherished every single moment we’ve spent together - and I have shown that too.

then today, this morning. I was scrolling through my Facebook stories as I do sometimes, and I come across a story post from a girl called Myra. now, this is not someone I have ever met in my life, nor is it someone I would ever want to meet, or even engage in conversation with, and that’s the truth. this is just someone who I happened to come across while scrolling. 

something within me made me like... no, love heart her photo.

WHY? why? why would I do that. I could think of nothing worse than engaging in a conversation with any other woman apart from my girlfriend. I have genuinely been so happy in my life, and I made a choice to disrespect my partner for absolutely no rhyme or reason.

now, this is something I completely forgot about. about two hours later, my partner came upstairs telling me she felt poorly. out of interest, she took a pregnancy test. we’ve been trying for a baby for the past few months at this point. to my absolute surprise and delight, it came back positive.

to say I was excited would be an understatement. my thoughts immediately turned to making a plan financially, providing for the family by keeping my second job which I was originally going to stop, looking after her through this pregnancy. any thought of this random post I liked on Facebook was well out of my mind.

then, as I was on the phone to my Mum upstairs, my laptop open with Facebook messenger downstairs, she sees the message on my laptop and came upstairs to rightly confront me about it.

what is there to say? how do I compartmentalise or even rationalise that decision? I was filled with such anger and disappointment with myself. I know how big of a deal this is, but again, in the moment, I did not see it that way.

I found out today that the most important person in my whole world is pregnant with my child, and how did I respond? with huge slap of disrespect. as I type this, I’m at home with our puppy, she’s at her Mum’s, making the decision to leave me.

my words mean nothing anymore. I have cried, and lied, and begged her to stay with me when I’ve fucked up in the past. but then I do the same thing again. I am finding it so hard to understand myself, because the one true thing in my life is the genuine love I have for this girl, she’s everything to me

so what now?

am I even allowed to feel the way I feel? do I deserve to feel utter disappointment and sadness, to the point of taking my own life? that’s a selfish thought process, but it’s genuinely how I feel. I feel entangled in a maze of bad decisions that have had no outcome but to lead me down a path of unhappiness and loneliness, and honestly, I deserve to feel this way. I have brought nothing but sadness to a truly wholesome and exciting day. this should have been the most exciting day of our lives together - to be remembered forever

and now?

I can’t even share this day with the person that means the most to me in the whole wide world, and it’s all my fault.

and why am I here? that’s another important question. well, quite frankly, I have nowhere else to turn, no one else to communicate this with. this is an endless cycle of behaviour that I am not able to fix.

this evening, I was actually able to make a decision I can be sure of. I joined a well known clinic that supports assisted suicide. I feel comfortable and calm in my decision to end my own life. and paying the fee gave me a huge sense of relief. I finally feel like I have control in my decision making.

no one in my life has benefited from their social or personal interaction with me, and I am not comfortable with having a war with myself for the rest of my life so,

look, this post is candid, and as honest as it can be. right now, I have made peace with this decision, which has not been made out of selfishness, rather my desire to be at peace with myself, but also for other people to be at peace with me, and the awful decisions I have made in my life.

I am open to questions or comments. I am aware that this post, based on the fact that the day started with my own bad decision, may come across as attention seeking - I can assure you it is not. but it is helpful to have a platform where I can anonymously share my journey, and provide regular updates on my condition, and ultimately I intend to share my last post on my last day.

this is a sure thing, so anyone who wants to join my journey is welcome to do so, I will share details of my meetings with doctors.

I’d like to close by admitting full responsibility for the decisions I made that led me to this point in my life. I, and I alone, chose this. I chose this all along, I just didn’t realise it.

[littlemisssquiggles]

Okay but how about a rosegarden moment where our rosebuds are talking about their training sessions with their respective mentors, like, Oscar with General Ironwood and Ruby with Maria

Hey there Lethie. Thank you for once again reminding me that Maria still exists in RWBY V7 since at this point; I think the PLOT has forgotten her. Oh where, oh where has our little pocket abuelita gone?  Oh where, oh where can she be?

Maybe she’ll make a small cameo in today’s new episode? It is going to be a long one---the longest for the season so far to be exact. But we shall see. In regards to your idea for a potential Rosegarden moment, I like it. I think it would be pretty cute for Ruby to hang out with Oscar after he’s all wrapped up with one of his training sessions with Ironwood. But rather than have her talk to him about training with Maria, what if...Ruby shares details with Oscar about her very first mission as a newly licensed huntress.

I think the CRWBY Writers have dropped Ruby resuming her Silver Eyed Warrior training with Maria for this volume in regards to her development.

So I like the concept of Ruby and Oscar meeting up at the end of their respective days to just talk to each other about how things have been going on their end. I think that could be pretty adorable to see if done canonically. 

However given how the PLOT for V7 has been shaping up, I feel like we’re more likely to see Ruby and Oscar potentially butting heads on their differing views on keeping the whole truth from Ironwood.

In respect to RWBY V7CH5, what I think would be great is if we glimpsed a teaser taste of one of Ironwood’s training sessions with Oscar. Perhaps we might get a moment where Oscar is just wrapping up a session and in the end, James assures Oscar that he could always come to him and talk to him about anything after he notices that Oscar looked troubled during their time together and it was proving to be a distraction to him.

James’ assurance and welcoming nature only proves to further weigh on Oscar emotionally because what’s been troubling him mostly is Ruby’s choice to prolong holding the truth from the General especially when he’s been nothing but trusting with them.

Imagine if…after finishing up his training for the day, as Oscar is exitingthe training room, he bumps into Ruby who had come to find him. Let’s say…Ruby was about to head out on her first huntress mission and she wanted to show Oscar her license or at least see him---y’know just happy to catch one of her friends since everyone has been busy with their missions or something like that. However despite Ruby’s chipper attitude to see him, Oscar doesn’t reciprocate.

I like the theory about things being a bit tense right now between Ruby and Oscar. Right now I feel like Oscar is going to be the only one to really challenge Ruby on her stance about deceiving James and call her out on being exactly like Oz. 

I’m especially curious as to what Oscar would say if Ruby were to repeat Qrow’s rationale about her being different from Oz because she’s choosing to only trust people she deems trustworthy.  We’ve seen Oscar call Ruby out before and I feel like we’re likely to see that happen again.

Since CH5 is titled “Sparks”, I’m going to take a page from FNDM fam @moondrop04​ and ponder whether we’ll see a call-back to the V5 Dojo moment with Oscar remembering what Oz told him regarding Ruby and her spark. 

Shoutout again to RWBY Enthusiast @moondrop04​ ---Moon shared an idea for a scene in which Ruby brings Oscar a slice of cake she had saved for him from CH4’s celebration ceremony. However during an argument with Ruby, Oscar drops the cake on the floor in anger.

I’m going to add my own spin on Moon’s idea since I really dug their theory. 

For this squiggle meister--- I’m envisioning Oscar storming off on Ruby. Perhaps the two do get into a little squabble over Ruby choosing to prolong the truth from Ironwood while acting all nonchalant about it, much to the grievances of Oscar. 

I have a feeling that Oscar might become very upset with Ruby for still choosing to lie to General especially regarding the bit about needing more proof that James could be trusted (despite all that he done for the team thus far) and the bit with what Qrow told Ruby (which, as I said in a previous response, is such hypocritical jibberish considering that Qrow is an exemplar of Oz’s putting his trust in others who he deemed trustworthy at the time). 

So as Ruby continues to act all indifferent about the whole scenario, Oscar becomes very angry and storms off on her in a similar fashion as he did with Oz back during V4. 

Ruby instantly feels bad for upsetting Oscar and immediately catches up to him, grabbing him by the arm before he can take another step further. With a trembling hand on Oscar’s wrist, Ruby steps closer to him. His back is turned the her the entire time but that doesn’t stop Ruby from getting close enough to rest her other hand on Oscar’s back in a more calming, peace-making gesture. 

I’m now picturing Ruby adopting a different tone with Oscar. A more vulnerable tone that indicates to Oscar about Ruby’s internal frustration in shouldering the burden of the action she had made. Ruby appeals to Oscar to give her more time to figure out a better course of action.She understands that he’s upset with how she chose to handle things andconcerned for the outcome of that, however Ruby urges Oscar to give her moretime to work things through. To have a little bit more faith in her, I suppose. To trust her with what she’s doing. 

It’s a line that makes Oscar recall the brief talk between him and Oz about Ruby back in Mistral. Particularly the part where Oz told him about Ruby’s spark. Rather than placing Ruby on a much higher pedestal than she’s already used to, Oscar’s response was a realization of how much responsibility Ruby must shoulder as a result of her spark and how much she is able to influence others with it.

“…This must be really hard on her too.”“It most certainly is.”

For me, I’ve always appreciated Oscar’s character a lot more for that line and all that he did for Ruby from the V5 dojo scene. 

For me, it solidified how much different Oscar’s outlook on Ruby was going to be as opposed to other characters. 

To me, it told me that Oscar doesn’t just recognize Ruby’s greatness and influence on others. 

He also recognized that outside of that, she’s just a normal young girl no older than he is---no different than he was, with a huge badge of burden on her chest.

It was the moment Oscar realized he and Ruby were one and the same in a way. I’d like to think Oscar recognized Ruby’s vulnerability in that moment too; hence why he more or less encouraged her to be open with him about how she was truly feeling.

In that moment back in the dojo, Oscar allowed himself to be vulnerable to Ruby. He felt comfortable enough with her to tell her the truth about how he’s been feeling since he left home regarding the upcoming battle of Haven. 

And Oscar opened up to Ruby because he was trying to get her to open up to him as well since he clearly acknowledged that she needed that sort of emotional confession given her change in demenour after she was reminded of Penny. And I liked how Oscar didn’t let up until Ruby was completely honest about her feelings. 

He sort of commanded that she be straight with him especially since he saw how depressed she looked.

It’s probably not how Oz would’ve handled the situation but...it’s very Oscar in how he chose to approach it and it did the trick since it helped Ruby overall which was what mattered. 

So I guess what I’m mostly getting at here is that I’d love for the PLOT to give another highlight into the growing “tension” between the Rosebuds since I honestly believe that Ruby and Oscar will be the drivers for this subplot involving the Deceit of Ironwood, the Revelation of the Truth and possibly the inevitable Return of Ozpin and his reconciliation with the team. 

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I believe Oscar is the key to Oz’s return and mending the strained bond with the ole Wizard and his team.

I feel like Oscar isn’t just going to be the key person to challenge Ruby on her views and stance with the General but also help her through it in his own Oscar-Pine way---just as he did back in the V5 Dojo Scene. 

Similar to V6, I have a feeling that the whole truth will inevitably come out through Oscar’s intervention yet again and it’ll be done in a move that’ll result in the young farm boy turned little barn prince becoming better respected and more trusted amongst his peers for the “risky actions” he took to make it happen and the fix everything. That’s my take on it.

But regarding CH5, we’ll see how things go with that today. The most I’m hoping for is for Oscar to at least appear in today’s new episode. This chapter is nearly 20 mins long. I’ll be super bummed if we finally have our longest--probably most eventful episode of the season and Oscar is once again omitted from it. That’ll just suck. But again, that’s just my views on it. 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

[morningfears]

Stacks

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18!

Summary: College!AU. Calum is usually into being watched but tonight, he wants to try something different. Ft. Voyeurism and public sex.

Word Count: 3.5k

The library is quiet around you, completely still and devoid of life. It’s the middle of June and though you’d rather be anywhere else, you’re thankful for the air conditioning and the lack of usual library inhabitants as you stare blankly at the history textbook lying open on the table in front of you. It’s barely nine at night, far too early to call it quits but late enough to feel tempted, and you force yourself to bite back a sigh as you lift your head to glance at the blonde sitting across from you.

Luke looks just as miserable as you feel as he stares at his literature textbook. His eyes lack the usual spark and his curls are unruly from the constant movement of his hand running through them. He checked out nearly an hour ago and, if you’re being honest, you’re ready to join him.

You quietly stare at him for another long moment before you sigh and lean back in your seat. “Honestly,” you begin, a little too loudly for the library, “I’m over this semester and it’s barely started. Who the fuck decided that summer classes should be a thing?”

“The same person that decided tuition should be a thing, probably,” Luke offers with a shrug as he continues to stare, bored beyond belief, at the open book lying on the table in front of him. He hasn’t turned a page in close to fifteen minutes and, normally, you’d call him out. However, this time, you’re in much the same position.

You nod thoughtfully at Luke’s assertion and move to rest your elbows on the table. “The university complex is ridiculous and overrated. We’re spending eons in classes, re-learning bullshit we were supposed to learn in high school, and we’re not even guaranteed to get a job at the end of it. What are we guaranteed? A piece of paper in a fancy cardboard holder and a year’s free membership to the Alumni Association, if we’re lucky. That’s a bullshit trade-off if I’ve ever seen one,” you huff as you return the cap to your highlighter and toss the yellow marker onto the table. “I need coffee.”

“Or sex,” Luke hums, his tone never changing as he grabs your discarded highlighter and begins to twirl it between his fingers. “Speaking of, where’s Cal? Wasn’t he supposed to meet us here?”

“He had to help with orientation today. Represent the frat at the information session,” you sigh as you shove your history textbook back into your backpack. “He texted me, like, twenty minutes ago, though. The freshmen they’re hosting at the house are apparently all lightweights and have mostly passed out so he’s on his way. Wants to go over math notes or something with you.”

Luke frowns at this and shakes his head. “Why does everyone come to me for help with math?” Luke questions as he copies your actions and shoves his own textbook into his backpack. 

“Your mom’s a math teacher, Luke,” Calum reminds him as he emerges from between two shelves, a carrier full of coffee in hand and a grin on his lips, “and you did so well on your exams that you got to skip math. Not all of us are fucking nerds.” Luke makes an indignant noise at this while Calum turns to you with a smile and presses a kiss to your forehead before he takes a seat in the open chair beside you. “And not all of us chose majors that require the most basic math class and nothing harder,” he teases as he glances at you.

“Not my fault you want to do something with your life,” you shrug as you grab the cup from his outstretched hand, “I’m getting a liberal arts degree that’s going to keep me in debt and jobless for the rest of my life. But at least I sorta like my classes.”

Luke whines at this and shakes his head once more. “Can we stop talking about class and the future?” Luke questions as he takes his own coffee from Calum. “It’s depressing and I don’t want to have a mental breakdown in the library. Remember that one kid freshman year?” When you and Calum nod, Luke continues, “People still bring it up and tease him about it. And he’s, like, a super senior.”

“Fuck this bullshit,” you grumble as you nudge your coffee cup to the side and drop your head to the table with a ‘thump’. “I give up. I’m going to become a stripper. Did you know that was an actual goal of mine for, like, ten minutes when I was a kid?” you mumble, your voice muffled by the table. “Wanted to be a stripper or a Playboy Bunny. Couldn’t decide. Thought about both. Maybe a Suicide Girl.”

Calum makes a thoughtful noise beside you before he reaches out to stroke your back gently. “If you want to test any, or all, of those fantasies, see if you’d be any good at them, I’m more than happy to help judge,” Calum offers with a grin. When you reach out to swat at him half-heartedly, he grabs your arm and tugs you into his side with a laugh. “I’m kidding,” he assures you, a grin still present on his lips, “academia is for you. You’re just tired. You guys have been here for hours.” He pauses for a moment, looks you and Luke over, before he continues, “Seriously, you should take a break. Say fuck the reading, both of you. Let’s go run through the fountain naked or something.”

“Honestly, I love you, but fuck off,” you sigh as you prop your head on your arms and glance over at Calum. “I don’t feel like going streaking at the moment. I’m tired. And hungry. And also horny. It’s the worst combination of negative emotions and I’m actually going to combust if I don’t get out of this library. My soul is becoming one with these walls.”

Calum is quiet for a moment as he watches Luke draw haphazard circles on the table with the capped end of the highlighter while you stare blankly at your coffee cup. He wants to break the two of you out of your school-induced haze and, the longer he thinks about it, the clearer the perfect idea becomes. You’d mentioned it once, early in your relationship and under the influence of far too much weed, but Calum remembers clearly that you’d had a thing for Luke before the two of you got together. And Luke, God love him, doesn’t have a filter and has mentioned on several different occasions just how attractive he finds you.

Calum had admitted to you during a late night conversation after a few orgasms and in desperate need of sleep that he’d like to watch you with someone else. It was a fantasy he never though he’d have, he prefers to be watched, but the idea hit him and he hasn’t been able to shake it. That night, you’d been on board after a moment’s hesitation and Calum is thinking that now might be time to act. Especially, he rationalizes to himself, here in the deserted third floor stacks.

He knows that there’ll never be another opportunity like this. The library is nearly empty, quiet and devoid of life. The campus itself is empty, most students have gone home for the summer, and is running on a skeleton crew. Even if you were to get caught, which Calum highly doubts, it’ll likely be by someone who isn’t paid enough to care.

With that, and yours’ and Luke’s desperate need for a study break, in mind, Calum decides to propose his solution to the two of you. He breaks the lengthy stretch of silence with a quiet hum of, “I think I might have another idea. You guys trust me?”

Calum expects a moment of hesitation but without missing a beat, you nod. “Of course,” you assure him, lifting your head slightly to glance over at him, “you know I do.”

“Not in the slightest but I’m dying of boredom so I’ll bite,” Luke shrugs, although both of you know that he trusts Calum with his life.

Calum rolls his eyes at Luke’s response before he leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead. He hesitates for a moment, almost unsure of himself, before he steels his resolve, stands from his seat, and begins walking toward the back of the room. He’s heading for the back row of shelves, out of view of the cameras, and you frown as you watch him. When he doesn’t hear footsteps behind him, he glances over his shoulder at you and Luke. “You guys coming?” he calls over his shoulder, grinning when you and Luke share a wary glance before you both stand and hurry after him.

“Okay, not that I don’t fully trust you,” you begin as Calum leads you and Luke into a corner illuminated by the streetlight outside the window, “I just don’t get it. What are we doing in the dustiest corner of the library?”

The lights aren’t as harsh in this area, the florescent bulbs are blocked by the high shelves, but there’s still enough light pouring in that you can see the dust covered shelves and cobwebs. You can also see Calum and Luke clearly enough to notice that Calum has a mischievous glint in his eyes while Luke looks just as confused as you feel.

“You remember what we talked about a few weeks ago?” Calum asks you as he steps closer and reaches out to place his hands on your hips. When you stare blankly at him, he sighs. “We talked about things we wanted to try. I said I wanted to watch.”

It takes a moment but when Calum sees a flicker of recognition in your eyes, he grins. “Wait, what?” you laugh, “Here? Now? With Luke?”

“What are we doing here, now, and with Luke?” Luke questions, his eyebrows furrowing further with confusion. “What are you trying? What are you watching? I feel so lost right now.”

“Shut up for a second, Luke,” you mumble, glancing over Calum’s shoulder at him. He holds his hands up in surrender and turns his attention to the dusty, broken spines of old books as you turn yours to Calum. “Are you serious? Why here, why now?”

“I’m serious,” Calum nods as he squeezes your hips gently. “Here because it’s quiet and empty, now because the two of you need a break. Do you still want to?”

“I mean, yeah,” you nod, certain that sleeping with Luke is something you want, “but are you sure you’re okay with it? I don’t want to say you’re possessive but…”

“You’re possessive,” Luke chimes in, his attention still on the bookshelf and back still turned to the two of you. When you’re silent for a moment, he shrugs. “You’re right there, I can’t help but hear you.”

Calum rolls his eyes at this before he returns his full attention to you. “I’m okay with it,” he nods. “If I don’t like it, at least we’ll know and I can go back to being possessive,” he shrugs, adding the last few words with a grumble as he cuts his eyes to Luke (who you’re certain has a grin on his lips).

“Okay but that doesn’t mean Luke wants to,” you sigh as you glance over Calum’s shoulder once more.

“Luke definitely wants to,” Calum nods. He’s certain that Luke will say yes. He knows that this is something Luke has wanted for a while and will jump at the opportunity.

“If you two would stop talking about me like you think I can’t hear you, I’d tell you if I was in or not,” Luke huffs as he turns to face you and Calum. “What do I definitely want to do?” he directs to Calum as soon as Calum turns to face him.

“You definitely want to fuck my girlfriend.”

Luke stands there, frozen with his eyes wide and mouth hanging open, for a long moment before he shakes his head. “What? No, I don’t. What gave you that idea?” When he glances at you and sees your raised eyebrows, he backtracks. “I mean, I do. I find you very attractive and great and would love to but you’re with Calum! And I would never…” Luke trails off when he realizes you and Calum are both smiling at him. He’s slightly confused and doesn’t understand what’s happening as he grumbles, “Stop laughing at me. I don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“Just say yes,” you encourage him with a grin. “Cal and I were talking about it. He’s always had a thing for being watched but now he wants to try the reverse, watching someone else.”

“Why me?” Luke asks, eyes still wide and a blush creeping up his neck.

“Because she wants you just as bad as you want her,” Calum shrugs as he wraps his arm around your shoulders and grins at Luke. “Either take it or leave it, Luke. This is the only time I’m going to play nice and share.”

Luke glances between you and Calum for a long moment. He wants to be certain that you’re both serious, that you’re not playing a practical joke on him, but he knows that neither of you would do anything that cruel to him. He knows that you’re both serious and, although he’s somewhat nervous, he doesn’t want to let this opportunity pass him by.

“Okay,” he nods, “yeah. I want to do this.”

Calum grins at this and nods before he releases your shoulders and brings his hands to your cheeks. He pulls you in for a quick, passionate kiss before he releases you and steps back. “I don’t think anyone will check back here but remember we’re in public. Keep quiet, baby,” he reminds you with a grin. After he nudges you toward Luke, Calum leans against one of the stacks, settling into a space where he can still see your face, and nods. “Go for it.”

Both you and Calum know that Luke won’t take the lead in this scenario. You know that he’s afraid to cross any lines or upset Calum so you make the first move. The moment Calum nudges you forward, you close the open space between you and Luke and pause before you touch him. “Is this okay?” you ask, wanting to be sure, “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” Luke nods, “it’s more than okay. Fuck.”

You grin at his excitement as you wrap your arms around his neck and tangle your fingers in his hair. You know that, even though the library is mostly empty, you’re still in public and need to be mindful of how long you take. However, you want to savor the first few moments. So you’re slow, soft and gentle, as you rake through the curls. “You can touch me, Luke,” you smiles, granting him permission, “I promise, Cal won’t be mad.”

Calum nods his agreement when Luke glances over at him but otherwise remains quiet as he watches Luke place his hands on your hips. Luke attempts to tune Calum’s presence out as you gently pull him down to press a soft kiss to his lips. Luke is somewhat rigid against you but the moment your fingers gently tug at his hair, he’s melting against you.

Calum watches as you lead the kiss. He watches Luke’s fingers dig into your hips, your fingers tug at his hair, your lips working seamlessly together. Calum shifts to get a better look as you crowd closer to Luke, your chest pressed against his as you release his hair and drop your hands to his shoulders. Luke breathes a sigh of content as he moves his hands to your ass. Calum grins at this, happier than he thought he would be at Luke finally playing along, and adjusts himself in his jeans as he watches your hands move down Luke’s chest.

“You can touch me, Lu,” you mumble against the column of his throat as you pull away to catch your breath.

“You should touch her,” Calum reminds him. “I’m enjoying this but we’re in public.”

Luke blinks as if he’s only just remembered this fact and nods. “Public,” he mumbles, his hands squeezing your ass before they move to the button of your shorts, “right.”

With the thought that the two of you are on a timer, Luke gains the motivation he needs to begin moving uninhibited. Calum is mildly impressed as he watches Luke dip his hand beneath your skirt and nudge your panties to the side. You feel your knees buckle as Luke’s fingers find your clit and he grins into the kiss as he wraps his arm around your waist to hold you up. As you focus on the feeling of Luke’s fingers rubbing at your clit, brushing your slit and attempting to open you up, you follow his lead and unbutton his jeans.

Calum steps just a little closer as Luke turns you and presses you against the window. Luke has his lips back on yours, his tongue licking into your mouth as he bunches your skirt up. He slips two fingers into your heat, working to prepare you, as he uses his free hand to nudge his jeans down just enough to free his cock. He feels something against his arm and pulls away from you, confused, only to find Calum holding a condom out to him. “Thanks,” he mumbles as takes the foil from Calum.

Calum nods his acknowledgment before he steps back and allows Luke to continue. Luke doesn’t want to rush this, he wants to savor the moment, but he knows that the two of you need to hurry. So as you press kisses to the column of his throat, he rolls the latex onto his length.

As Luke brushes his length down your slit, you meet Calum’s eyes over his shoulder. His eyes are dark with lust and his bottom lip is swollen from biting it. His arms are folded over his chest but you can see the bulge in his jeans and you know that he’s likely aching to be touched. You know that your night is far from over, you can tell by the smirk on his lips, and the thought makes you moan as you return your fingers to Luke’s hair. “Come on, Luke,” you groan as you tug at his curls, “fuck me, please.”

Luke groans at the feeling of your lips on his neck, of your hands in his hair, and nods as he places his cock at your entrance. He sinks in slowly, wanting to savor the moment, but as soon as he’s buried inside of you, his thoughts all vanish into nothing but how tight and warm you are around him. He remains still for a moment, breathing deeply as he attempts to control himself, before he sets a moderate pace.

His fingers are on your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves quickly, as he fucks into you. Your free hand is splayed on the glass as you wrap your leg around his waist and attempt to hold yourself steady. You can feel the glass vibrating behind you, can feel the exhilaration as you think that anyone passing by might be able to see, and it all overwhelms your senses as you meet Calum’s eyes once more.

You keep your eyes on Calum’s as you cum and he has to bite back a groan as he watches you. He wants to step in, kiss you and hold you tight to his chest, but he remains in his position as he watches Luke chase his own orgasm. It only takes another moment, not long after your release, for Luke to join you in the afterglow of an orgasm. He’s still for a moment, quiet, before he pulls out.

The two of you are quiet as you adjust your clothes and Luke moves to step away but before he can, you pull him in and press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Lu,” you mumble against his lips before you gently pat his cheek and step around him to reach out for Calum. Before you can speak, Calum pulls you into a heated kiss. His hands are against your cheeks, holding you in place, as he leaves you breathless.

“I liked it,” he mumbles against your lips in response to your unspoken question. “I really fucking liked it,” he breathes as he grabs your hand and guides it to the bulge in his jeans.

“I think I’m done studying for the night,” you breathe as you gently squeeze him, “we should go back to my place. My roommates are gone.”

“Or we could go to mine,” Calum breathes, “I don’t think my roommate will mind. He might even join us.”

The both of you glance at Luke who looks mildly surprised but nods just as quickly. “Fuck yeah,” he breathes as he grabs the hand you’re holding out to him, “I don’t mind at all.”

Author’s Note: I started this, like, ages ago for a request. And I just now finished it. If whoever requested this initially is still around, I’m sorry and I hope you liked it.