#while my siblings still got like. Birthday presents and shit I was expected to Understand that Look It's Just So Much Closer to Christmas

[jabberwockypie]

I think I have succeeded in doing All The Things so I don't have do chores or cleaning on my birthday (which is tomorrow or arguably today, but I haven't slept yet so it's not tomorrow yet).

There is cake, there is frosting, I am simply waiting on strawberries to arrive to assemble it, which will happen tomorrow.

[sunjaesol]

juke | human au | title: fearless // taylor swift

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As they were walking up the front lawn of her childhood home, nerves wrecked her body. Even her hand, snug in Luke's, felt clammy and sweaty and suffocating. God, this was such a mistake — going home, not him. He didn't even realise what he had gotten himself into by falling for the youngest darling of the matriarch.

Or rather, she shouldn't have fallen head over heels for the swoon-worthy Luke Patterson, but she never really stood a chance.

But everything had happened so fast! One second banter easily flowed between them, warm and easy flirtatiousness without consequences, the next she was at IKEA helping him pick out a bookshelf while he somehow knew whenever she needed pizza and a good cuddle. They were very much in a committed relationship, something the Molina women very much frowned upon.

It wasn't as if they were all deeply scared of love and relationships, but the Molina family was a matriarchy. All women raised families on their own, no man to help. Divorced, cheated on, died, a donor, infertile and therefore adopting children — men were of zero priority.

So, coming home with her boyfriend whom she deeply loved? Definitely a risk. She was surprised he was still standing, that she hadn't scared him enough yet.

Spinning on her heels in front of the door, she shot him an anxious smile. "Are you... sure you wanna do this? We're, like, really intense."

Luke smiled, tender. "Do I wanna meet the family of my girlfriend? 'Course I do." When her expression didn't change, he added, "Jules, just 'cause they all did the 'no guy' thing, doesn't mean you have to follow that, right? And I'm not scared."

Oh, God. His courage was as admirable as it was stupid.

She chuckled, antsy. "You haven't met my mom though."

His smile widened as he dipped down to kiss her, gently, hands caressing her cheeks. For a moment, stress fled her system.

But then the door flew open.

"There you are!" Mom exclaimed, a glass of red wine in one hand and music booming over her shoulder. "And is this the boy toy?"

"Mom!" Julie grumbled, embarrassed to be caught kissing (God, she's twenty-three!) as well as putting Luke in a bad position.

First impression of him: seeing him kiss her beloved daughter on the doorstep. Great.

"Hi," Luke said, dazzling her with a smile while he stuck his hand out. "I'm Luke. And I'm, uh, older? So..."

"Meh," Rose trailed, lamely shaking his hand. "Still a boy toy. Anyway, come in! Food's warm!"

Following her mom inside, Luke shot her a strange look, like it was only registering now all her tall tales were, well, true. Shrugging with a sheepish grin, she placed their shoes and jackets in the wall closet and then made the agonising trek to the loud, jumbled chatter.

As expected, all the California-based Molina women were present. Which meant ten, including her, all staring at Luke like he was a weird specimen. Her hand squeezed his beneath the table in support, and he was finally squeezing back just as tightly.

Was it bad she felt some sick pleasure he understood how fucked he was? Probably. It seemed warranted.

When everyone had their plates filled, the interrogation began.

"So, Luke, how old are you?" Victoria asked.

"Twenty-five."

"Going around town with a twenty-three year old?" She sniffed. "Interesting..."

"Do you have any siblings?" Donna inquiried.

A wry grin ticked up his lips, sensing the irony of the situation. "I, uh, I'm an only child, actually. Mostly raised by my dad, 'cause my mom worked long hours."

Shoving a fork of meatloaf in her mouth, Julie withheld a guttural wince at his words. Luke Patterson was the poster child of everything the Molina's didn't like and she brought him in their cave.

"What do you do for a living?" Abuela croaked, peering intensely.

His smile didn't falter, but instead widened. "I'm in a band, but I also bartend a couple of nights a week."

"A band, huh?" Mom leaned forward, intrigued. "Has Julie told you I used to be in a band?"

"How can I not, mom?" Rolling her eyes, Julie added, "You'd tell him anyway..."

"I was in The Petal Pushers, the best protest punk-rock feminist group of the 90s." Her fist punched in the air as she spoke and Julie could imagine the fingerless leather gloves and purple streaks as she did. "What kinda... band do you have?"

Her endearing Luke didn't read the warning signs humble himself, so he enthusiastically perched himself at the end of his chair as he said, "Punk-rock too, actually! Yeah, we're really killing it right now at all the clubs."

She smirked. "I'm sure you do."

"What are your plans with Julie?" Elena asked, one of her cousins.

Both her and Luke froze at that. Shit. That... was not something they've discussed. A relationship of seven months was still pretty fresh, not ready for a confrontational talk about futures and plans.

He scraped his throat, briefly let his gaze flicker to her, and then uttered, "I'm, uh, a one day at a time kinda guy."

Julie cringed, not hiding it this time. To her, it was an alright, albeit lame answer. But to her family? Horrible. So, so horrible. Gah, she had to put an end to this!

Abuela scoffed, nearly choking on her hard seltzer. "One day? At a time? What is this, the 70s? My little girl deserves more than carpe diem!"

Mimi hissed. "Wrong, wrong answer, boy toy."

The questions kept shooting at lightning speed, each one more outrageous than the other, while Julie's grip on her fork tightened and tightened in anger.

"How many times a week do you shower?"

"What's your least favourite colour?"

"Do you pick up women? Is that how you make extra money?"

"What's your view on children?"

"Can you handle spice?"

"How did you even find our darling, huh? Did you lure her into that bar of yours?"

"Is Luke short for Lukas, or Lucrative?"

"Alright, enough!" Julie screamed, standing up with a stomp of the foot.

A hush crossed the table, aghast and surprised, her mother perpetually amused as always (too many in drugs in the 90s, she presumed) while Abuela feigned to be sleeping. 'Resting her eyes' would likely be the excuse.

"This is insane! Stop acting like this and start treating Luke with a little respect!"

From the corner of her eye, she vaguely noted he was staring at her, gobsmacked. He did well, given the circumstances, but she couldn't just idly sit there and let him take all this shit.

Mom puffed, leaning back in her chair. "We haven't been disrespectful, Julie."

"You have, mom! Can't I just have a boyfriend without—"

"We've invited him," she interrupted. "That's enough of a courtesy."

And before Julie could fire back, furious beyond belief, Rose added, "You know how the Molina cookie crumbles, honey. No men stay. Not for long, anyway."

That smug response made her explode. "Mom! Can you just for once—?!"

"I love her though," Luke quipped, shy.

The fight halted instantly, all ten women gawking at him like he just spoke a new language.

And he did, to Julie at least. Luke loved her? Even after all of this? She obviously knew he wasn't impartial to her, those seven months equalling tenderness and partnership like nothing she's ever experienced before, but... love? He was in love with her?

How could she abide by the 'Molina Women Rule!' rules when he confessed that, no hesitation or stutter heard?

And so, Julie's heart melted. "You love me?"

"Of course, I do," he whispered. "Why else would I be here?"

Elena nodded, sympathetic. "Good point."

Unable to stop her smile from becoming a dazzling, lovesick beam, she repeated his words with as much conviction as she could muster. "I love you too, Luke."

Abuela shot up from her sleep with a cough and a snicker. "Yeah, right."

Mom waved her glass around, congratulating them. For the first time tonight, her tone held kindness instead of poorly veiled contempt. "That's very sweet, Luke. Tell me in seven more months how you're feeling then."

Though Julie couldn't expect her to suddenly change her ways. Damn.

Mimi scowled. "We're letting 'I'm a one day at a time kinda guy' slide?"

Disgruntled chatter rose again, and that was her cue to go. Tapping Luke's shoulder, she mouthed home — something she hadn't done before and wasn't sure which apartment she meant either, but it left flutters in her chest regardless — and he nodded in understanding.

Oh, God. He loved her. That still hadn't set in.

"And if you'll excuse us, me and Luke are going," Julie continued. "Thanks for dinner, mom."

The woman laughed, baring all her teeth. She clearly had a fun time. "See you at Victoria's birthday, mi amor. And Luke? Who knows!"

He forced a chuckle at her remark. Awkwardly bouncing on his heels, he waved at all the ladies. "It was really cool to meet you all. Now– now I know why Julie's so incredible. So... thanks." A true smile appeared. "This was great."

No one said anything after that. Abuela gurgled her drink and her cousins prodded at their leftovers, mom peering at her like she was trying to find something. Sometimes, Julie and Rose were so alike, and other times, they were complete strangers. She liked that. It kept dinners like these exciting, she supposed. Mom seemed to think the same.

They bid goodbye one last time with a kiss on the cheek, and then they hurried out the door. A giggling breath left as the cool wind hit her skin. Luke was buzzing with adrenaline, unable to keep his limbs still.

Clambering in her car, the comforting quietude wrapped around them as the doors slammed shut. A beat passed. No one spoke.

"What the fuck," he whispered, horrified. "What the fuck. What the fuck did just happen? What the fuck—"

Julie squealed. "You love me!"

"That's what you got from that?!"

"Of course!" Her arms curled around him, teasing. "You love me!"

"That shouldn't be the most surprising thing tonight, Jules," he grumbled, though a playful shimmer sparked within his beautiful eyes. "I thought I was, y'know, obvious."

She shrugged, bashful. "It's always nice to hear, no?"

"Oh, man," he sighed, eyes flickering across her face as though he couldn't decide what to focus on, as though she was indescribably stunning. Her heart swelled tenfold at the thought. "I love you, Julie. So fucking much. Even with your crazy family."

Laughing, she reached forward and kissed his lips, fingers pressing in his neck and their silly grins preventing them from deepening the warm touch.

"Let's go," he mumbled, noses nudging, eyes hooded and pouring with the love she somehow hadn't noticed before. "Before they're ready for round two."

But before he could move away, she kissed him again, better this time, and cherished his sigh when they slowly seperated.

"I love you too," she whispered. "Like, a lot."

He grinned, breathless. "Good to know."

Victoria's birthday was four months later, and Luke attended as well. And also for Mimi and Elena and mom and Abuela and Donna and every other Molina member. And when Julie got surprised with a 24th birthday party, she figured out Luke and mom combined their powers to host it.

Molina women were independant and lived life by their own rules... which included Julie.

Loving Luke Patterson unconditionally probably made her the most unique Molina of all.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@bluefirewrites @blush-and-books @ourstarscollided @thedeathdeelers @pink-flame @constantly-singing @willexx @unsaid-emily

[twinklecheeks]

Friends With Benefits (Jeff Wittek Imagine) Part 10

Summary: Jeff and Y/N have been hooking up for a while. The whole vlog squad assumes they’re dating and Y/N does too but Jeff doesn’t like labels. He eventually starts to express interest in Natalie.

Note: Planning on making this a multiple part series, depending on how good it does.  You’re 21 & Latina in this (maybe) series. Also, I’d like to apologize for the typos, if there is any. I’m just illiterate lmao.  

Side note: I am SO SORRY I’ve been MIA since May? June?. I was planning to write chapters throughout the summer but this quarantine thing really affected my mental health. I hope you guys understand. Also, I’m starting my last semester of college next week so Idk my posting schedule.

Warnings! Pregnancy

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Word Count: 2.1k

Okay so now that y/n and Jeff had a rather… Interesting time in Big Bear, they end it with bad news…. And Jeff still hasn’t told his parents about y/n. Christmas is in less than a week! What can go wrong?

12/20/19

Y/n: JEFF. YOU NEVER TOLD YOUR PARENTS THAT I WAS PREGNANT???!

Jeff: hey hey hey, can you calm down. Knowing the piece of shit I can be, I didn’t think I was going to be in your life. But look, I surprised myself!

Y/n: So absolutely no one knows?

Jeff: Karyn does…. Maybe my brother Steven too. Karyn basically knows the whole story.

Y/n: Are your parents going to be mad?

Jeff: Haha no. My ma has been begging me to straighten myself out and have a family. If they knew the whole story,... then they’d kill me.

Y/n: Is it just going to be us and the rest of your fam?

Jeff: Oh I forgot to tell you, Jonah’s family is coming too.

Y/n: Really?! Thank god. If it gets awkward, I can just stuff my face in the corner w/ Jonah.

Jeff: Don’t do that. You have to eat healthy.

Y/n: *gives Jeff a death glare*

Jeff: At least try to. Come on I just don’t want any other risks for the girls.

Y/n: Yeah…. I guess. What are we going to do if they’re deaf? I don’t know whether to choose the cochlear implant for selfish reasons or to let them grow up deaf and learn sign language.

Jeff: If they grow up deaf, we’re gonna have to take one or both of them to speech therapy and that’s going to be extremely difficult because they’re not going to hear if what they’re saying is pronounced right.

Y/n: Maybe we should give them the implant and make them learn sign language? I mean, it’s always beneficial to know another language.

Jeff: But we also have to remember that there’s a chance the implant won’t work and they’re going to have to grow up deaf. Also, remember that there’s a possibility that only one of them is born deaf.

Y/n: I hate how we’re talking about this before Christmas. I thought this was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.

Jeff: It is but hey, if my ma gets mad at us, we’re breaking the ice w/ the babies possibly being deaf.

Y/n: JEFF.

Jeff: Oh shut up you know you would do that too w/ your parents.

Y/n: *rolls her eyes* I mean… you’re not wrong.

Jeff: Now hurry up and pack your stuff. We have an early flight tomorrow.

12/21/19

*At the airport w/ the Antonyan’s*

Suzie: I can’t believe we’re spending Christmas in New York!

Jonah: It’s gonna be so cold there though.

Vardon: Shut up Jonah. It’s a free present from David.

Jeff: Hey I’m gonna give y’all a heads up that my parent’s do not know that y/n is pregnant.

Everybody: *looks at Jeff for being a dumbass*

Suzie: You’re so stupid.

Jonah: I agree

Jonah’s mom: She look like she gonna give birth tomorrow and you no tell your parents?!

Jonah’s dad: You in big trouble Jeff

Y/n: *Laughing*

Jeff: Let’s just get on the plane.

*They arrive in New York*

Y/n: Jeff, we can’t just show up to your parent’s house and they see how pregnant I am. It’s going to ruin Christmas!

Jeff: Don’t worry. I’m sure they're going to be fine. I think.

Y/n: JEFF.

Jeff: *sees his older sister* Hey look it’s Karyn!

Karyn: *moves Jeff out of the way* Oh my god y/n! Can't believe you’re having twins!

Y/n: Jeff hasn’t told your parents about me yet.

Karyn: *turns to Jeff* JEFF ARE YOU FUCKIN STUPID

Jeff: Hey can y’all wait to yell at me after we leave the airport. People are staring

*In the car*

Karyn: Jeff I know I gave you a deadline to tell Ma and Pa but that didn’t mean to WAIT UNTIL THE DEADLINE.

Jeff: Everybody just loves to yell at me today

Y/n: How do you honestly think they’re going to react.

Karyn: They probably think Natalie is gonna come

Y/n: *getting madder by the second* THEY KNEW ABOUT NATALIE AND NOT ABOUT ME WHEN I WAS WITH YOU BEFORE HER AND FOR MUCH LONGER.

Jeff: Thanks a lot Karyn why tf did you have to say that.

Karyn: Hey, this is your fault. Not ours. You have to think of a way to tell mom and dad.

Suzie: *sitting in the back* This is going to be an interesting Christmas.

*Jeff’s parent’s house*

Jeff: Here goes nothing. *opens the door* hey ma?? *looks around*

Karyn: Maybe they left to get last minute things for Christmas.

Y/n: Cool, gives me time to hide.

Karyn: Hun, everything is going to be fine.

*another car pulls into the driveway*

Y/n: Oh god I’m going to throw up

Jeff: How about you go to my old room and I talk to them.

Y/n: *walks to Jeff’s old room* What if Jeff’s parents are disappointed that I’m not Natalie? They knew about her and not me.

*Jeff’s parents walk in*

Jeff’s mom: My baby boy! I know it’s only been a month but I love it everytime you come home. Sorry we weren’t here. We were buying more food just in case. You didn’t bring Natalie?

Jeff: About that, her and I are done… for good.

Jeff’s dad: Oh well, that’s too bad son.

Karyn: *whispers* But he did bring someone else…

Jeff: *shoves Karyn* hey, shut it. Ma…. Pa…. There was someone else before Natalie… We went out for a while but I broke it off w/ her cause I was stupid and now we’re back together…

Jeff’s dad: Okay, I don’t see the problem? Is she here?

Jeff: Ummm she is… But there’s something else. She’s pregnant… and they’re mine.

*Jeff’s parents both laugh*

*Everybody else laughs nervously*

Jeff’s mom: Good joke, now where is she?

Karyn: Ma, he’s not joking…

*Jeff’s parents look at everybody*

Jeff’s dad: Oh Jeffrey, what did you do.

Jeff: No no no, everything is fine between us. It was ugly between us at first but now we’re back together.

Jeff’s mom: *processes* WAIT. Did you say “they’re mine” as in PLURAL?!

Jeff: Umm yeah. She’s having twins.

Jeff’s mom: I don't know whether to be angry or excited. I mean I’m going to be a grandmother again!

Jeff’s Dad: If he’s on good terms w/ her and is back together w/ her, I see no problem.

Jeff: Y/n you wanna come out?

Y/n: *Walks out slowly* Hii

Jeff’s mom: My god, how far along are you?

Y/n: 5 months

Jeff’s mom: *turns to Jeff* You kept this from us for HOW LONG.

Jeff: We can talk about that later but at least give a warm welcome to the mother of your soon to be granddaughters.

Jeff’s family: IT’S TWIN GIRLS

Jeff’s mom: Oh my god I feel like fainting but I won’t. Oh dear congratulations. I’m going to spoil those little girls rotten. *hugs y/n*

Y/n: Thank you so much. I was afraid of how you would react.

Jeff’s dad: His mom has been begging him to settle down for years. She finally got her wish.

Jeff’s mom: This is a Christmas gift I wasn't expecting at all but I am so happy for the both of you. Jeffrey is a natural when he spends time w/ his sister’s children.

Y/n: haha that’s good to know.

Jeff’s dad: Dear they’re probably all tired. Let them rest for a bit and we’ll go out later tonight.

*Jeff and Y/n take a nap in Jeff’s old room*

Y/n: Well, that went better than expected. I just wish my parents were like that…

Jeff: Babe don’t worry, they’ll come around.

Y/n: I doubt it. When my older sister moved out, they didn’t talk to her for a year but when our older brother moved out, my parents helped him w/ everything! All I’ve done is please them and I do one thing they don’t like and I’M DISOWNED?? QUE SE VAYAN AL CARAJO!

Jeff: Hey hey hey, calm down. You don’t wanna stress the girls out.

Y/n: I mean, at least my siblings are on my side but they live in Seattle.

Jeff: We also have like 20 friends who will always be w/ us. The twins will always have family around.

Y/n: I’m just wondering when we should tell them about the deaf thing.

Jeff: I think we should wait until after the holidays. Maybe in February? I just think we need our time to process and prepare ourselves for anything before it’s confirmed once they’re born.

Y/n: Yeah, you’re right. But February is my birthday though… I don’t wanna ruin the fun w/ that.

Jeff: Hurry up and get dressed. I have a little surprise for you but you have to close your eyes when you get in the car.

Y/n: Jeff please don’t send me into pre-term labor.

Jeff: Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. I think you’ll love it.

*Jeff drives to Brooklyn*

Jeff: Okay we're almost there. Are your eyes still closed?

Y/n: Yeeees. Boy I’m getting impatient.

Jeff: We’re here. I’ll help you get out of the car. Okay now you can open your eyes.

Y/n: *turns around* NO FUCKING WAY. RIMINI’S.

Jeff: Yeah. I remember you sayin that you came to this bakery all the time. And that they had your favorite cookies in the world.

Y/n: Jeff. I haven't been here in 10 years. My grandpa would always take me here. I lived 5 minutes down the street.

Jeff: That’s why I brought you here. I knew how much it meant to you.

Y/n: I know you’re not proposing but I would’ve said yes in a millisecond. Now let’s go inside! I have to get their italian butter cookies and I’m bringing a bunch back to LA. I don’t know the next time I’ll  be able to come back.

Jeff: I mean, we’d be coming back quite often after the babies are born to visit my family.

Y/n: Okay but I’m still bringing a bunch back. You can’t get anything like this back in LA.

Jeff: But don’t go overboard w/ the sweets. You don’t want gestational diabetes.

Y/n: *death glares* You sayin I eat too much?

Jeff: No no no, you know what I mean.

Y/n: *pouts* But they taste so good :(

Jeff: Which means you should ration them as much as possible. Also, when we film for my channel, you might wanna hide these from Jonah.

Y/n: I swear to god if Jonah even THINKS about eating my damn cookies, I’m going to jail for manslaughter…

Jeff: Hun, what did I say about the anger. Don’t stress the girls out.

*Back at Jeff’s house*

Jeff’s dad: Well look who finally came back. We wanted to take you guys out but y’all left.

Jeff: Sorry pops, Y/n and I went to Brooklyn. She lived there until she was 11.

Jeff’s mom: Oh wow, I wouldn’t have guessed you were from New York too.

Y/n: Yeah, my parents moved my older siblings and I to Seattle because it was getting hard w/ the cost of living. Also, my grandfather passed away, so there wasn’t really any reason for us to stay there. My parent’s LOVED living here.

Jeff’s dad: Your parents are from New York too?  

Y/n: No. My parents immigrated from Peru. My dad came in the 70s as a teenager and went back and forth. My mom immigrated here in the 80s. They still have a bunch of friends here and they still know the city like they still live here.

Jeff’s mom: Why didn’t you invite them for Christmas in the city. I bet it would bring back so many good memories for them.

Y/n: *sighs* Well, we're kind of not talking at the moment… They were really disappointed when I told them I was pregnant. My older siblings are supportive though.

Karyn: Well that’s good that you have older siblings that will always look out for you. That’s why I give dumb dumb over there *points at Jeff* a hard time.

Jeff: What the fuck.

Karyn: They’ll come around eventually but even if it takes an eternity, just know that you have us now. We’re family! Even if Jeff somehow messes things up w/ you in the future.

Jeff: Ma can you tell her to stop!

Jeff’s mom: Karyn, stop bullying your brother.

Next chapter is CHRISTMAAAAS. (Don’t worry it’s already done. I won't post it for another couple of days) Also, some of the stuff in this chapter is kind of based on me. (Not the pregnant thing. I’ve never been pregnant lmao) But I was born in Brooklyn and the immigrant parents/ moving away thing is from my real life. (but not the moving away cause of grandpa. He was still alive for a couple years after.) But the cookies from Rimini’s… Will change your LIFE.

Comment if you want to be on the taglist!

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[broadstbroskis]

idk if you’re still doing t-swift prompts but if you are could I request brock boeser and mary’s song!! btw loved your matty tkachuk + wearing his name story💕

ahhh thank you 💜💜

here is brock and mary’s song (with some accidental paper rings vibes thrown in, oops sorry not sorry🤷‍♀️)

-----

The evening of your fifth birthday, after all of your friends had gone home with their party bags and the only people left were your family and your next door neighbors, your sister comes running inside to drag you away from your brand new paint set to bring you outside where she was playing with her best friend.

As older siblings of their families, Lauren and Jessica were sure they knew best and it’d was only the start of what was sure to be a summer of being pulled into their games and forced into whatever role they didn’t want to play. The ugly stepsister from Cinderella. The student in class. The worst Cabbage Patch doll.

Luckily, you had a partner in crime of your own. Jessica’s brother, Brock, was almost two years older than you but that still made him younger than the two of them, and in Lauren and Jess’ minds, that may as well have made you both babies, dolls for the two of them to play around with. 

Brock’s sitting on the ground, picking at the grass, looking grumpy, so whatever Jess and Lauren have planned, must be something he’s already been waiting for them to organize for a while. But your face lights up at the sight of your best friend and you happily go sit down next to him, content to just be near him as he continues to pick at blades of grass and see which ones are good for whistling with, while continuing to wait for your sisters.

Really, you’re always just happy to be near him. Brock hung the moon. He’s the best hockey player. He’s always so nice, including you in games with his friends or wandering over to your house after school or practice just to see if you wanted to do something. 

“Okay.” Jess claps her hands together. “I think we’re ready.”

Lauren shoves a handful of dandelions in your hand and pulls you up to stand in front of her and Jess. “Stop!” She shrieks, when you go to make a wish on your bouquet. “Not yet!”

Jess is in the process of man-handling Brock to stand across from you and he’s still grumbling, trying to pull his arm away from his sister, but once he’s standing in front of you, he smiles at you, like the two of you are sharing a secret or teaming up against your older sisters- the way things have always been really.

You and Brock against the world.

“Brock.” Jess signs long-sufferingly. “Do you want to marry YN so that Lauren and I can be sisters forever?”

He gives his sister a look. “Uhh, I guess?”

She huffs at him, annoyed. “You’re supposed to say I do!”

“I do!”

“YN.” Lauren addresses you. “Will you marry Brock so that we can all be related and stay friends forever and ever?”

Is that what this meant? Weddings made you related to someone forever? As if you’d ever say no to that! Lauren and Jess are glaring but it’s Brock’s hopeful look that makes you grin. “I do,” You say solemnly.

“Great!” Jess cheers. “It’s time for rings.” She hands you each a round piece of construction paper. “Put this on each other’s fingers!”

“Yours is purple and Brock’s is blue, because those are your favorite colors.” Lauren adds, matter-of-factly.

Brock is smiling as you slip the blue circle on his finger and then you giggle as he tries to find one of yours that the purple ring will fit on. He finally slips it on your thumb, and it stays, mostly, and the two of you look back at your sisters.

“What’s that thing…” Lauren trails off.

“What thing?”

“That thing!”

“Oh!” Jess cries. “Um. I now pron-prin-ce you man and wife! Kiss the bride!”

Brock gives you a skeptical look and you eye him right back, but he obliges and gives you a small kiss, both of you immediately wiping your lips afterwards. “What next?” He asks skeptically.

“We blow out the flowers!” Lauren says, excitedly. “And make a wish!”

It’s easy to distribute your bouquet between the four of you and then make your own wish. You can’t ever imagine a more perfect day than today, so you just wish for more of them.

-----

The day of your sixteenth birthday is the day that Brock is drafted by the Vancouver Canucks and instead of the Sweet Sixteen party that your friends have been dying for, you spend it sitting in front of a television, anxiously waiting for his name to be called.

When it finally is, you can’t stop grinning, and announce that cake can now be served. Your dad makes a joke that there are two things to celebrate now, but you had no doubts in your heart that there wouldn’t have been. Brock was going to be drafted; you’d always known it. It was just a matter of where he went. 

And well, blue had always been his favorite color. 

The Boeser’s don’t return until mid-week, at which point summer break has begun, which means you’re pulling yourself out of bed at midday right around when they’re pulling into their driveway.

Your dad opens the front door, without looking up from the paper he’s reading on his way back to his home office, and you know instantly what that means, running outside to go meet Brock, still in the short shorts and oversized tee (that originally had belonged to him) you’d slept in last night. 

Brock’s unloading the trunk of the car but he drops the bag he’s holding onto the driveway just in time, to catch you as you leap into his arms and spin you around. 

“I’m so happy for you.” You mutter into his chest, when he returns you safely to the ground. 

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” He says, into your hair.

“Best present ever.” You declare, ignoring that familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach that’s been popping up more and more often whenever he says incredibly sweet things like that.

“Yeah?” Brock laughs, squeezing you once. “Wait until you see what I brought you from Florida!”

“You brought me a present from Florida?” You gasp, teasing him. “You knew my birthday has been coming up and you waited until the day of to buy me a gift?”

He grins. “It’ll be worth it. Clear your schedule tonight, okay?”

You’d already agreed to go to a party with some of your friends, deep in the woods behind someone’s lake house, but you’re sure they’ll understand. “Okay.”

Brock returns the smile you send him with a grin. “Good.”

A few hours later, he’s leading you to your favorite ice cream shop and then laughing as he purposefully brushes some along your nose within minutes of sitting down. “Brock!” You laugh, twisting away.

“You missed a spot.” He teases. You pull a face at him, brushing at the side of your nose. “No.” He huffs. “Here.” He licks his thumb and then gently wipes the opposite side. 

Your breath catches in your throat. He’s so close, so close, so freaking close. “Thanks.”

Brock smiles back. “Anytime.” But this smile seems different than his usual smile, definitely softer and with this hint of something you can’t quite put your finger on, which starts to drive you crazy when that smile stays on his face for the rest of the night.

It’s late when Brock finally pulls your gift up onto the table, still sitting out on the patio of the ice cream shop and overlooking Main Street in your town on the extremely mild June evening that has plenty of people still walking around. “Big bag,” You joke, and then attempt to fall back on an old stand-by to try and ease the fluttering in your stomach that’s been in overdrive because of the smile on his face. “You sure there’s not a car in there?”

Brock gives you a look. “I got drafted, I didn’t sign shit yet.” You laugh. “But go on, open it!”

You grin at him and then reach into the bag, pulling out a flat object, immediately grinning at the driftwood “greetings from Florida” sign that will fit perfectly in with the aesthetic of your room. “Hey, sweet!”

“There’s more,” Brock encourages.

You reach in, fingers touching fabric, and hoping beyond hope for a kitschy Florida t-shirt, you’re shocked when you pull out a Canucks jersey. “Brock.” You breathe, looking up to see his expression, but he’s closer than you’d expected, and suddenly he’s so close…

You close your eyes, reach up for his cheek, and kiss him back. 

-----

It’s the first day of real spring in Vancouver and Brock convinces you that it’ll be a good idea to go and grab dinner and a drink at your favorite rooftop bar.

“It’s going to be crowded.” You whine at him. It’d been your least favorite thing about the city since moving in with him after you graduated college last spring. Everywhere was always packed the second the weather turned beautiful. 

“Come on,” Brock whines back, mocking you, easily pulling a grin to your face. “It’s so nice; it’ll be worth it.”

Brock’s never lied to you before and you have to admit that he’s right about tonight as well as soon as the two of you start walking over. The bar’s not even super crowded, surprisingly, and you two grab a table in the corner easily, starting to make light chatter as you browse the menu, like you’re not just going to get the same flatbread that you always end up getting.

Brock laughs as you place your order and then makes his own choice, before turning back to you. “So what’s new?”

You groan. “Lauren is driving me crazy.” There’s a sound from behind you and you turn to look, but Brock grabs both your hand and your attention back.

“How?” He asks, with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

“These stupid wedding favors and this stupid bachelorette party!” Jesus, did he need you to go on? Your sister was a certified Bridezilla and everyone, including Lauren, admitted it!

“Well,” Brock says mildly. “I guess you never know what you’ll be like until you actually have to start planning a wedding.” Another noise behind you has you nosily turning to look until Brock follows his first statement with, “Are you ready to see what we’ll be like?”

You’re not even halfway turned to looking at the table behind you and you think you get whiplash turning back toward him. He did-what the-what did he say?

But sure enough, Brock is slipping out of his chair and onto one knee, holding open a small box to show off the most beautiful diamond ring you could imagine.

“You’re going to have to ask me better than that.”You somehow manage to get out.

He grins. “Will you let me replace the construction paper with a real one, YN?”

There’s definitely tears running down your face as you nod, you can’t even remember if you actually ever say the word “yes”, but there’s a ring on your finger and you’re kissing him through the tears and he’s running his thumb against your cheeks when he pulls back. 

Which is when you realize that everyone on the roof are your family and friends. Jess and Lauren sweep you into a hug, alternating comments about how “you’ll see” once you actually start planning and at the same time, squealing about their happiness. Quinn, Petey, and Jake, three of Brock’s teammates, start a ping-pong game with you, bouncing you back and forth between the three of them for a minute, sharing their excitement.

Over their shoulders, you see Brock is grinning at you as he’s wrapped up with your parents. And suddenly, you can’t stand not being next to him; it’s the hardest thing to wrap up with everyone congratulating you and push your way over to Brock.

“I love you.”

He grins back, somehow wider, even though the grin hasn’t left his face since he slid the ring on your finger. “I love you too.”

“No.” You try not to groan in frustration because how is he not getting this? He planned this whole thing for you. He is the world’s most amazing human, your rock, your idol. The person you’ve looked up to most for as long as you could remember. “I just- never mind.” You loop your arms around his waist, sure he won’t understand. “I really love you.”

“I’d hope so.” Brock teases. “Because I’m really serious this time. We might have just been fucking around with the paper, but this one’s for life.”

[balancingdiet]

Tabula Rasa

Detective Conan & Magic Kaito Characters: Shinichi/Kaito Words: 2500 ish Chapter: (1) ... (9) (10) (11) 

Shinichi always finds his neighbour weird. But he didn’t expect to find his neighbour lying on a patch of grass and donned in Kaitou Kid’s costume, too.

Shinichi had purposely taken an hour off work so he could drop by a toy store, get the gift, and make it just in time for the birthday party. But just when he was just about to leave, a piercing scream echoed throughout the toy store, and in the next second he found a woman lying in the middle of the aisle, death by cyanide poisoning. 

Frankly, it was a lack of planning on his part—who knew his random murder magnet ability would decide to activate today? 

In the end it wasn’t a hard case, but it was a painfully long one to wrap up. By the time he managed to calm the guilty husband, the bawling mother-in-law, and wait for his colleagues to collect every piece of evidences for the report, a good two hours had passed. 

He was now late to the party.

After parking his car (he nearly knocked over his mail box when he did), Shinichi dashed to the house across the street.

Kyoko answered the door.

“I’m so sorry for being late.” Shinichi glanced past her shoulder, slightly relieved that the party was still on-going. He spotted Sakura, the birthday girl, laughing in her pink frilly dress with her friends.

“I should thank you for coming actually.” Kyoko returned an apologetic look and stepped aside for Shinichi to enter. “You must have been busy at work.” 

“Not at all.” Shinichi smiled, glancing at the fancy decorations and the home-cooked food spread across a make-shift table in the living room. Honestly, Shinichi was probably no where as busy as compared to Kyoko today. Being a single, working mom was tough enough, but Kyoko never failed to put aside everything for her daughter. All Shinichi had to do was to keep to the promise he made when Sakura passed him her birthday invitation last week. 

He had no excuse for anything—

“Shinichi nii-chan!” Sakura skipped towards Shinichi and gave him a tight hug. “You're here!”

“Yes, but I do have to apologise for being late.” "It's okay!"

Shinichi bent down, whipping the box he had hidden behind his back. “Here’s your gift.”

“Thank you so much!” Sakura hugged the present under her arm before grabbing his hand. “Now dat’ you’re here, you got ta’ see this too!” she exclaimed, dragging him across the room and to the crowd of children and parents.

“So who wants to be the— Oh! I guess we have a volunteer!”

It was a little intimidating to see all the turned heads and attention on him, but knowing the source of the voice did help to find some comfort in the awkwardness, even if he was the cause of it. 

Kuroba waved Shinichi over.

Given Kuroba’s closeness with Sakura and Kyoko since the first day he moved here, it wasn’t surprising to see him invited. But it was a little irksome to see him charming all of Sakura’s friends and their parents too. 

Sakura squealed and gave Shinichi a surprised push to the front. Before Shinichi could react to her strength, Kuroba grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward to his side. 

“Let’s all give our volunteer a warm welcome,” he said and began clapping. Everyone followed.

Clearly, Kuroba needed to check his vocabulary and understand what volunteer really meant.

Kuroba pulled out a deck of cards from his pocket and fanned them out, showing Shinichi the back side. “I need you to pick a card from the deck.”

Though suspicious, Shinichi silently agreed. It was six of diamonds.

Then, after Kuroba placed the rest of the cards away, he snapped a finger, and a dove flew out from his sleeve and settled on his hand. Everyone awed in amazement, leaving only Shinichi the odd one out. Besides the simplicity of the trick, he didn’t feel good knowing the magic Kuroba had in mind involved his dove. He already had a fair share of bad experiences, like getting his property shitted on and his forehead pecked—

“Now, please hand the card to Tamago.”

Shinichi’s eyes twitched. He was hoping his glare might transmit his warnings to Kuroba or Tamago, but neither seemed bothered. He grudgingly obeyed and passed the card to the dove.

Card now clasped between its beak, Tamago fluttered away from Kuroba’s fingers and settled on Shinichi’s head.

What THE—

Kuroba squeezed his shoulder and placed a white hat on his head. “Remember your language,” he whispered. 

Shinichi couldn’t see, but he could definitely hear the smile in Kuroba’s voice.

Kuroba turned to the crowd. “Let’s all count to three, shall we?”

When everyone’s chant hit the number, Shinichi felt a flutter on his head before a warm, and much furrier creature was replaced. It was also the moment Kuroba took the hat away, and a white rabbit immediately bounced into Kuroba’s chest as it nibbled on the same card that Shinichi had drawn out.

Everyone cheered (and Shinichi forced himself to clap just to blend into the crowd).

A few moments after the excitement died down and everyone wanted to see a new trick, Kyoko came out of the kitchen with a huge cake in hand; it was time for the birthday song. Kuroba then performed his last trick by lighting the seven candles with just a wave of his hand.

Everyone scattered after the birthday song, each enjoying the last dessert and chat before heading home for the night. But as for Shinichi, he chose to stand in the kitchen—the most secluded place in the house—and finish the cake in silence. He was quick to talk and gather information from people when it got to do with his work, but being sociable for the sake of socialising wasn’t something he was interested at the moment—

He irritably scratched a sudden itch on his head. It got to be the doing of the dove or the rabbit’s butt...

“Hello, my volunteer.”

Shinichi turned, eyeing Kuroba as he ambled into the kitchen. 

“Of all the tricks, you just had to pull that one,” Shinichi muttered.

“I thought you liked it.” Kuroba tossed his empty paper plate into the trashbin. “You clapped in the end, didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t clap anymore sarcastically if I tried.”

Kuroba chuckled. “You clearly need to work on that.” 

“...Are you a magician?”

It was nice to see Kuroba confused and not look like a smug ass. “What?”

“Not your alter-ego, or you.” Shinichi waved a hand over Kuroba, not really sure how to piece his words exactly. “I mean... your career.”

“Not full-time,” Kuroba answered (which ironically surprised Shinichi because he didn’t expect him to reply almost immediately). “I’m a freelancer.”

“So you’ve got an income.” Shinichi rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Yet you steal…”

Rolling his eyes, Kuroba shook his head. “All these redundant questions again—”

The sound of scuffing made both of them turned, watching as two kids—one boy and a girl—nudging and pushing each other until they entered the kitchen together. Judging by their features, Shinichi guessed they were siblings.

Shinichi expected them to approach Kuroba, probably telling him praises and boosting his ego, but turns out they were walking towards him instead.

Kuroba didn’t seem displeased they weren’t his fans. Rather, he looked amused.

"Hello,” the boy greeted, his voice a little dreamy and mesmerised. “Sakura-chan said you’re a detective. Is that true?”

Huh. “Yes, I’m a detective,” Shinichi answered.

“Wow.” The boy widened his eyes as he looked between him and Kuroba. “Sakura-chan is so lucky. She got so many cool neighbours!”

“I also want to be a detective too!” the girl exclaimed. “Do you catch all the bad guys in the world?” she continued, as she swung her finger guns around. 

“Of course. That’s my job.”

It was soft, but Shinichi heard Kuroba snorted. He turned, looking annoyed as Kuroba’s face split into a grin when they made eye contact.

Back then when Shinichi was still Edogawa Conan, they had made a silent pact to not uncover and expose each other real identities (even if Kid stupidly abused the system and disguised as him several times). But now that the pact no longer benefited Shinichi, Kuroba ought to start panicking; he should be going left and right and finding ways to protect his identity and alibi, in case Shinichi decided to bring him down one day out of the blue.

But looking at his comfortable smile, Kuroba seemed confident that the pact still existed, which was actually true. And it wasn’t because Shinichi didn’t have the evidence. Even if he did (which were the photos he’d chose to delete), those threats would only be used between them and not made known to any third-party, much less the police.

Shinichi hated how Kuroba seemed to be able to read him, and he hated how he couldn’t fully figure him out in return (given all the questions Shinichi hadn’t found an answer to). But what he hated more was the hard fact that when Kuroba smiled at him, there was a horrifying, millisecond moment in which Shinichi thought of… smiling back.

As much as Shinichi adored Sakura, he was glad the party was over.

----

Shinichi never expected Kuroba to listen to his advice, and he couldn’t fault him for it when he had played as Kuroba’s role for more than a hundredth time while Haibara Ai played as him; she was always trying to convince Shinichi not to do stupid things, like using the antidote just to make Ran happy for three hours, and then suffering the consequences for the next three months.

So, rather than extra advising, Shinichi decided to watch out for Kuroba instead, but without him realising, of course. Because the last thing he needed was Kuroba to think Shinichi actually had a single strand of care for him, even if he actually had more than five strands of it.

Shinichi liked to think his effort was just an act of a kind, neighbour thing.

Kid had held a total of three heists in the month after his hyperventilating attack. And during those three heists, Shinichi would tweak his radio frequency to match with the Kaitou Kid Task Force’s radio, gaining all of Kid’s information real-time. And when he knew how Kid escaped, he would spy Kuroba’s house by the window of his dark study room, watching and waiting till he safely reached his house. 

It was good to know he didn’t stab himself with a knife while returning home. 

But as for knowing if Kuroba was completely fine in his house… Shinichi believed his intelligent doves would know what to do if he wasn’t.

That was why when Shinichi saw a dove sitting on his mailbox after driving home from work one day, he automatically started to panic. A little.

“Shit.” Shinichi slammed his car door shut and stomped towards the dove. “Did something happen?” 

The dove looked at him with its beady eyes. 

“I asked if Kuroba is alright—”

(Probably thinking he was insane) The dove flew away and into the room with the balcony again.

It eerily felt like a Deja Vu.

Although Kaitou Kid didn’t hold a heist today, Shinichi knew for a fact that the symptoms of PTSD, like panic attacks, could come at the most random times. It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

Shinichi dashed towards Kuroba's house.

“Hey.” Shinichi rang the doorbell before changing to hammering the door instead. “Kuroba, are you inside?”

There was silence.

Shinichi leaned his ear against the door, trying to pick up any kind of sound. When there was nothing, he crab-walk around the house and covered both hands to prevent the reflective light from hindering his vision when he tried to look through the glass window. The blinds were down, but he could still see some gap—

“Uh, what are you doing?”

Shinichi jolted, whirling around with more relief than shock when he realised it was Kuroba, who was standing a few metres away and looking at him with the strangest look.

“I thought—” Shinichi shook his head. “It’s… nothing.”

Kuroba frowned and slowly walked towards his house. He gave Shinichi the side-eye. “Are you a pervert?”

Shinichi rubbed his temple to get rid of the incoming headache. “No.” 

“Are you stalking me?”

“No.”

“Are you—”

Shinichi gritted his teeth. He was tired, frustrated at his mistake (for relying on a friggin dove), and clearly not in a right mind before he simply blurted, “Your dove was sitting on my damn mailbox.”

Instantly, Kuroba's teasing features disappeared before he nodded slowly in an emotionless understanding (It was strange how Kuroba seemed to get it, though Shinichi was also glad so he didn't have to admit the obvious). Three seconds ticked by in silence, and then Kuroba turned away to unlock the door. 

“I was at the supermarket,” he explained. 

Stupidly, Shinichi just noticed the grocery bag in his hand. He could make out the shape of a cartoon of eggs, and… ham?

“Ok," Shinichi mumbled.

“Yeah. So… thanks. I guess.” Kuroba paused. There was a flash of hesitance in his eyes, though they were gone when he spoke, "Thanks for your concern.”

“Hm, cool,” Shinichi said before pointing to his own house. “I’ll go back now.”

“Ok, cool.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

Shinichi turned and stalked off, not once looking back. When he passed his mail box, he briefly wondered if he should just demolished it; its existence had caused a lot more complications to his life than he liked—

He brushed the ridiculous thought away and returned into his house.

Just two seconds away from entering his study room and suffocating his face into any of his Sherlock Holmes’s books, the doorbell rang. Shinichi frowned, ten percent liking the new distraction but ninety percent dubious about it. Frankly, he had almost forgotten how his doorbell sounded, given the rarity of anybody using it; he’d only interacted with his neighbours on the streets (saved for Kuroba) and rarely had any visitors. His parents got the keys too, so there wasn’t a need for them to use the doorbell. But even if they’d forgotten the keys, Shinichi knew they were somewhere in Russia for a holiday and not in Japan—

All these redundant questions again, he thought (annoyingly in Kuroba’s voice), before he decided to just check the answer instead.

He climbed down the stairs and opened the door.

Speak of the devil.

Shinichi made a face. “What is it?”

“...Apparently my gas ran out.” Kuroba raised a hand with a bag of grocery while the other carried a frying pan. “Can I borrow your stove?”

[titsthedamnseason]

If you haven't done it already can you do headcanons about Julian's birthday?

bitch you know it asdfghj and by some miracle ive actually gotten these done before the two weeks that could potentially be his birthday are over so happy birthday julian!!

julian has never really had a big birthday celebration before

of course emma and the kids and diana always got him gifts and spoiled him

you know, doing chores for him, letting him relax for a day, stuff like that

but poor julian is a worrier so he’d always end up insisting to help anyway, saying that he wanted to

he even would always make the cake since no one else could

it wasnt until later that everyone realized that every time they had tried to spoil julian on his birthday, he turned it around on them, and he wound up doing most of the work

they are determined to make his 18th birthday different

helen and aline are more than capable of holding down the fort now

plus julian and emma take a break from their travel year for the holidays and are in the institute for julian’s birthday

which could be anytime from jan 1-15 but my personal hc is that it’s on new years day (wink wink)

so anyway julian and emma will be in la for his bday and julian is a lot more carefree this year so everyone is highkey determined to give him the best birthday this year

nobody wakes him up early, and after staying up so late the night before his normal internal clock doesnt wake him up as usual

at 12am everyone else shouted “happy new year!” and emma shouted “happy birthday julian!”

anyway when julian does wake up, later than usual, his first instinct is to shoot out of bed and get the kids breakfast but he takes a moment to himself to revel in the fact that this is his first birthday spent waking up next to emma as her boyfriend

emma seizes her moment and convinces him to stay for just a while longer, im sure the kids are fine, helen and aline have been taking care of them for months

julian gives her like five minutes of kisses and cuddles before beelining for the kitchen

he finds that everyone else has already been up for an hour or so and has already eaten breakfast

the second he enters the kitchen everyone yells “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” and he is bombarded with hugs and drawings and cards and stupid gag gifts from the kids that he accepts with a smile cristina and mark both hug him as well and he’s pleasantly surprised to see them

(if you read my tda holiday hcs i made them leave before this point but awsxdcfvgyh they come back to surprise him)

he grabs a plate for himself reluctantly, wont stop apologizing to helen and aline that he overslept

they keep telling him they dont care but, surprise surprise, he’s not listening

when julian goes back to his room to get dressed he finds emma already ready with his favorite blue dress of her’s on and holding a present for him

his reaction is “oh that reminds me” and he pulls out another gift from under the dresser

emma is like ????? and julian is like “…for you” and emma is still like ????? so then julian explains “i got you a new year’s gift too”

emma is like fuck that shit this is a birthday gift asdfgyhu “who the fuck buys new year’s presents” “i dont know i love you” “i love you too but what the fuck julian now i look bad” “you couldnt look bad if you were trying”

anyway after emma gets it through julian’s head that he does deserve a birthday gift and no, she refuses to open up his gift to her on his birthday, nice try, julian, he opens it up

it’s a new blue shirt that almost exactly matches emma’s dress which is “an unfortunate coincidence”

he cant stop telling her it’s too much, you shouldnt have, and emma is like hoe you think im done??? think again

but actually she doesnt say that, she just says youre welcome asdfghyuj

anyway

they go meet everyone in their matching outfits and they all just hang around a bit, there isnt much else julian could ask for than to be with his family

but at lunch emma surprises julian with a picnic for the two of them at the beach

she promises that she didnt touch the food, she had aline make it all asdfrghy

once they finish emma gives julian more presents(“this is a prank right?” “am i laughing? actually i am but not because this is a prank, please just open the presents” ) 

the first is a whole set of paints and brushes and other art supplies i know nothing about, all custom made, the brushes with inscriptions on the handles( “jb” “as long as you exist and i exist i will love you” “i love you more than starlight”)

julian: where did you get that last quote from?

emma: i thought of it

julian: *melts*

he asks how she knew what supplies to get him and she told him how she saw him looking at all this stuff back in that shop in london and went back to get it for him

he’s so touched

he is already certifiably not okay™️ because the whole day has been against everything he’s ever known and he feels weird, he just wants to give something to someone, literally anyone

julian is so happy and when emma pulls out an envelope he has to bite his tongue to keep from saying “oh no not again”

emma just gives him a look when she sees him holding back asdfgbhgt

he’s preparing himself for some sort of long sentimental card from her that will probably make him cry but what he gets is worse

it’s just a piece of paper that says “im having so much fun on our date right now, but id love it even more if you came with me to the louvre to our next one”

julian is shooketh to a level beyond all levels

he cant imagine why emma looks so worried he wont like it

they laugh and hug and then proceed to kiss a lot before going back to the institute 

julian is ready to just chill now 

he comes in and there are decorations filling the entryway

a million balloons, streamers, banners

he looks at emma who just shrugs but she’s smiling so big and has a knowing look on her face 

there’s a beautifully decorated poster next to the staircase that says “TAKE ONE” and there’s a party hat for emma and a ridiculous crown for julian that says “it’s my birthday!” under it

they follow a trail of posters with arrows on them to the living room(im pretty sure they dont call it that but the room with the computer in it is where they always hang out so that’s what i mean awsedfvgbh)

everyone yells “SURPRISE” when they walk in and julian is sure he’s in a permanent state of shock

like yes he just followed an entire trail of arrows to get here but it’s still so much more than he expected

they eat pizza and play music and all just hang out and it’s a fun time

at one point julian goes to adjust his crown but everyone thought he was taking it off and yelled at him aesdxcfvgbh

they play stupid party games like pin the tail on the donkey(which theyre all good at since theyre shadowhunters asdfghjui) and charades and stuff like that

everyone gives julian more presents and he thinks he might combust

they sing to him and have cake

they give him one more gift after they sing and it’s a photo album of julian and his siblings and emma through the years

there are ones of baby emma and jules playing to 12 year old julian intently speaking to ty and livvy to 14 year old julian reading with tavvy to 17 year old julian laughing with dru to ones with helen, mark, aline, and cristina in them and ones from the travel year and julian is amazed

he’s so touched and he’s proud that he only cries a little

a little after that everyone starts getting tired since they stayed up until midnight the night before

diana goes home, tavvy goes to bed, followed by dru and ty shortly after

when julian hugs ty on his way out he almost feels like livvy is there too, and he doesnt understand why ty goes pale when julian tells him, julian worries he shouldnt have said anything before ty just smiles and says “good” before walking out

everyone else goes to bed shortly after

julian and emma are laying in julian’s bed when she pulls out a card for him, but tells him it’s nothing special

he opens it and begs to differ

the front of the card says “so many ways to say i love you” and she has filled the inside with ways she said it over the years

“protecting you in fights”

“i’ll put the kids to bed tonight”

“i would do anything for you, jules”

“we’re parabatai, we can do this”(julian doesnt like this one)

“take a break”

“please stay”

“i need you”

“your hair is a mess”(“really emma? “shut up”)

the list goes on until it ends with “i love you. love, emma”

they are both crying at the end

“i love you so much, emma”

“i love you, t––”

she doesnt get to finish

they have more important things to get to and, needless to say, they dont get much sleep that night either

[pitterpatterpot]

Lion’s Pride: Chapter Nineteen

21.

“Aedion,” Evangeline watches from where she sits on his and Lysandra’s bed, eyebrows bunched, “why don’t you just make him a flower crown?”

“Because you like flower crowns,” Aedion groans, continuing to pace. “Gavriel doesn’t exactly jump for joy at the idea of them.”

“You could get him another sword?”

“Evangeline, sweetheart, believe me when I sadly say that it is possible to have too many swords,” Aedion sighs, collapsing next to her. “I didn’t think it was possible, but when they’re the only gift you receive you become tired of them.”

Evangeline hums, stretching out beside him. “You could make him a cake? It’s what he did for you for your birthday.”

“Gavriel made that?” Aedion sits up, awed. “I didn’t know he could cook like that.”

“He did,” Evangeline rolls over onto her stomach, smiling. “Why don’t you cook him something? You’re a fantastic cook. You always use the right spices for meats.”

“But that’s hunting and camping,” Aedion bunches his brows. “Baking in an actual kitchen is completely different.”

“What’s the worse that could happen?”

~~~

“THE ENTIRE DAMN KITCHEN. THE ENTIRE DAMN KITCHEN UP IN SMOKE. WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU COOKING?”

Aedion sags against the dripping wet workbench of the kitchen, still smelling of smoke as Rowan gestures to the oven which is still coughing clouds of black smoke.

In his defence, the entire kitchen was not on fire. Just the oven. And it wasn’t his fault that some fae with water abilities smelt the smoke, assumed the worse and flooded the pace.

“I-“

“IT’S STILL BUBBLING!” Rowan roars, pointing to the black mass inside the oven. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?”

Never has Aedion seen Rowan raise his voice to such standards with such an incredulous tone mixed in. But, in the king’s defence, he had been dragged away from Aelin by the alarm. Aelin, and the bed. During a very interesting position.

One that Aedion does not want to go into detail about or ever mentally approach with a ten-foot-long thought stick.

“A cake,” Aedion winces at how small and pitiful the words sound compared to the damage of the kitchen.

After his outburst, Rowan seems to have nothing to say, just as put out by the simple explanation as the general. The king simple sags against the bench and places his head in his hands. Aedion has seen that look before. Seen it in the eyes of tired commanders and generals who have had enough of their troops bullshit and don’t care if the idiots land on their own swords anymore. Slowly Aedion begins to edge towards the door, eyes darting between it and his king.

“Maybe I’ll just-“

“Get out.”

“Right.”

~~~

“Aedion, darling,” Aelin combs her fingers through her cousin's hair, “my dear cousin whom I love-“

“I’ll never enter the kitchens again,” Aedion groans, leaning against the foot of her bed, head flopping back.

“Good,” Aelin deadpans and starts dividing his hair. “Why don’t you just buy Gavriel something?”

“Like what?” Aedion allows his eyes to close, mostly to help ignore Rowan, who glare’s at Aedion from where he sits in his favourite chair.

He should have figured that Aedion would go straight to Aelin for advice after the kitchens. As soon as he had returned from the mayhem he had found them divulging in chocolate, discussing a multitude of things and Aelin begging Aedion to allow her to do his hair.

Damn sibling/cousin time. He understands their closeness, particularly after they squabble or need comfort, but it would satisfy him greatly to see Aelin kick Aedion out of their room at least once.

But no. Not when they need comfort in the apparent form of food and talk.

“I don’t know,” Aelin shrugs. “Maybe some books? You two like the same author.”

“But that’s not very thoughtful, and we’ve finished all of his books,” Aedion groans, tipping his head back. “I got him nothing for the holidays, and he seemed to let that pass since we went out later, but I can’t not give him something for Fathers Day.”

“Why don’t you just ask him what he wants?” Aelin balances a hair tie between her lips as she speaks, fingers moving rhythmically.

“I did. He said he doesn’t care and that he’ll treasure whatever he receives from me,” Aedion growls.

Aelin scowls. “I didn’t know he could be such a bastard.”

Aedion nods slowly, allowing Aelin’s hands to keep with the movement. Rowan, from his chair, snorts and picks up a book. It earns him a glare from them both.

“What have you done so far?” Aelin combs hair with her fingers away from his ear.

“I made him flower crowns, but Evangeline likes them and I realised Gavriel wouldn’t want them so I gave them to her. I also made a cake, but you know how well that went.”

He ignores Rowan’s groan at the memory.

Aelin pauses in her movements and frowns. “But you’re great at cooking?”

“Not under pressure!”

“I’m sure there are many areas of which you are unable to perform while under pressure,” Rowan murmurs, earning a vicious snarl from Aedion.

“Finished,” Aelin ties off the end of Aedion’s hair. “Two braids, each on the side of your head leading to just a simple ponytail.”

“Damn, you’re still good at this,” Aedion examines himself in a small mirror Aelin gifts him.

“Of course I am,” Aelin wipes her hands against her thighs. “Want to do mine?”

“Sure-“

“No,” Rowan stands, dropping his book on the side table. “I’m not waiting for you to do her hair. That’s it. You’re coming with me.”

Aedion frowns, running his hands through his hair to undo the braids as he stands. “Why?”

“Because we’re all going to have a chat,” Rowan opens the door, standing to the side. “Come. Everyone’s waiting in the lounge room.”

Trooping out, Aedion ignores the heated looks the king and queen share.

The king will be returning to his quarters after the meeting.

~~~

“Gods,” Aedion sits on the soft couch with his head in his hands, the cadre members all watching him, “why do I always feel like you’re all calling me in for an intervention?”

“Trust me, we’ve thought about that,” Fenrys grins from the fireplace. “But it’s much easier to just meet up with you here.”

“We need to discuss Fathers Day,” Vaughan says softly, biting his lip. “Now, we know that your relationship with Gavriel has been growing, but we want you to know that no one expects anything from you, least of all Gavriel. You don’t need to push yourself into doing anything with or for him that you’re not comfortable yet just to please him or because you’re afraid your relationship will fail if you don’t.”

It takes a moment for Aedion to look away from the male, wondering how exactly he seemed to know Aedion’s exact thoughts. Instead, the demi-fae focuses more on his clasped hands, swallowing down his words. Too many times his father's old friends have come to talk to him about such things. Too many times have they asked probing questions out of what Aedion assumes is a concern. It raises the question of how they define him; Gavriel’s child or a fellow male.

“We know you called Gavriel ‘father’ Aedion,” Rowan contributes. “You haven’t called him since, and if that’s because you’re not ready then that’s fine and-“

“Stop,” Aedion growls, leaning back and rubbing at his eyes. “Just… look, I called Gavriel my father because he is my father. I have accepted that fact. I didn’t call him it because I felt pressured or frightened. And I’m not worried about Father’s Day because it’s too much, I’m worried because I legitimately want him to enjoy it, you bastards.”

They all pause and frown at him. It makes him itch, the concern in their gazes. He doesn’t need attention on every move he makes, he doesn’t need people continuously ‘checking’ on him and he doesn’t need others assuming his emotions to be ready to step in even when not asked.

“Aedion,” Vaughan sinks down into the couch. “Gavriel will be delighted with whatever you do.”

“I know he will be,” Aedion sighs, sagging back. “But that doesn’t mean I will be.”

Hesitating, Fenrys leans forward. “Boyo, I think that above everything else Gavriel would want you to talk to him more. Particularly about your past.”

Talk. That’s all anyone seems to want to do. As if moving forward isn’t important at all; the past is all that needs to be dragged up.

“I didn’t come for this kind of discussion,” Aedion fails to keep the growl from his voice. “If you don’t have any ideas as to what I can get him then I’m leaving.”

Groaning, Vaughan settles back in the seat. “Aedion, if you take him out to lunch it will honestly be all that Gavriel will talk about for a month.”

“He still brags about you taking him along hunting last week,” Rowan shakes his head, mirth in his eyes. “He finds a way to worm it Into every conversation.”

“If you spend the day with him Gavriel won’t know what to do with himself,” Fenrys grins. “I’m telling you now. He doesn’t care about gifts; he’ll be over the moon if he knows you put effort into planning a day with him.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Aedion nods his head. A day together. That would be suitable for them both and easier than agonising over an item to purchase.

Perhaps a day out would be best, and there’s never any better time to ask than the present.

~~~

Clenching his fists at his side, Aedion waits for Gavriel’s response. It took more courage than Aedion had expected to knock on his father’s bedroom door and ask if he wished to spend the day (Father’s Day) visiting the city with him. Gavriel continues to stare at him and it shocks Aedion as tears suddenly spring to Gavriel’s eyes and his father needs to turn away for a moment. Very few times has Aedion ever seen Gavriel shed a tear; when they visited his mother’s grave and Gavriel thought Aedion couldn’t see him sneaking out at night to speak to her and once when Aedion told a particularly bad story about his time in the war camps and his father needed to leave the room, Aedion glancing the wetness in his eyes before he left. Tears of gratefulness, love and sorrow.

Aedion can only hope these are tears of joy and not horror.

“I- shit - Gavriel?”

“I’m fine,” and he is, he smiles at Aedion brightly. “What did you have planned?”

There shouldn’t have been such a weight on Aedion’s chest. Or at least, he should have noticed it was there before it was lifted.

“Um,” suddenly, Aedion is much more unsure about the situation. “Have you had breakfast?”

“No.”

“Then breakfast,” Aedion resists the urge to shuffle. “I know a place, by the river bank and near the markets. We could go there and eat and talk?”

“That sounds perfect,” Gavriel is still smiling so, so wide.

Right. A place for breakfast. It’s alright, Aedion has a plan for this. Lysandra and he went to the nice place a little while ago, the food had been good, so this will also be good. That’s a Father’s Day thing, right? Breakfast? Something along those lines. Aedion’s fairly sure he’s supposed to cook the breakfast himself but after the last accident, it would be better for everyone if he simply bought it.

It doesn’t take long to get to the small shop, picking seats in the courtyard just underneath a tree. It’s pleasant, peaceful, both of them ordering their meals easily and grabbing refreshing drinks.

“So…” Aedion taps his finger against the surface of the table.

They have absolutely nothing to talk about. At once Aedion is struck with the horror that he’s forgotten all topics of polite conversation. Usually, it flows easily between the two of them, or at least lately it has been, but now that he tries no thoughts come to the general’s mind.

“Thank you, for this,” Gavriel has a little smile as if he can guess Aedion’s inner struggle. “I am enjoying myself, Aedion. This is exactly what I could have asked for.”

And that makes the prince sink back in his seat in relief. Breakfast was a good idea. A good one. Nothing like the cake.

“I’m surprised, in all honesty,” Gavriel admits softly, watching the people bustle up and down the street. “I didn’t think so many people would want to celebrate this day.”

“Many will be visiting the graves,” Aedion regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips, yet knows that they are the truth.

Too many fathers were lost. He can only thank the gods Gavriel was not one of them.

“How do you know this place?” Gavriel asks, watching as their food is placed down.

“Lysandra and I made it a mission to see where all the best places to eat are,” Aedion grins. “We have half the city covered.”

Chuckling, Gavriel sips his drink. “Of course you do. How has the development of Caraverre been?”

“Good. The primary buildings should be ready by next spring,” Aedion spears a berry on his fork. “After that, we’ll just need to work on the movement of supplies and infrastructure.”

“How does it feel to be a lord?” Gavriel comes close to smirking.

“Not much different from being a price,” Aedion hums playfully. “You know, the grovelling, the compliments, the gifts. The usual pampering.”

He can see Gavriel sigh. “I forget how alike you and Aelin are sometimes.”

“Now that’s just your fault.”

“Trust me, I’m fully aware.”

The rest of the meal is smooth, pleasant. It’s still warm enough in the season that they can both shed their jackets, leaving their skin to be warmed by the sun above them. Soon their plates are empty, Aedion and Gavriel just picking at the few crumbs left, not wanting to break their conversation and leave even when it’s obvious they have no further reason to stay.

“Rowan missed the opponent,” Gavriel explains a small scar on his forearm. “Well, missed isn’t the right word. He slices right through his arm, had too much force and couldn’t keep from nicking me.”

Aedion raises his brows and releases a low whistle. “How many of your injuries are from the others?”

“I’d rather not sit here all day trying to work that out,” Gavriel chuckles. “That one looks particularly nasty.”

Holding up his arm, Aedion looks to the scar running down the inside of his arm just below the crook of his elbow. “It healed well thanks to my fae blood but I somehow gained an infection. The healers needed to cut it open again to treat it.”

Gavriel’s brows furrowed. “It must have been horrible conditions if an infection was actually able to spread.”

Shrugging lightly, Aedion places his hand back down. “I didn’t go to the healers the first time, we were preparing for another attack and I just thought it would heal properly by itself. It wasn’t bothering me so I left it.”

“It wasn’t bothering you?” Gavriel repeats slowly, raising a brow.

“Like you never ignored an injury in the middle of battle.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I’m the parent,” Gavriel sips his drink, “that’s how.”

Grumbling, Aedion mutters something along the lines of ‘hypocrisy’ that makes Gavriel smile. So easy. It is so easy to say these things now.

“Ready to head out?” Gavriel asks, finally placing down his fork. “We could walk along the river.”

“That sounds nice,” Aedion agrees, standing and pushing in his seat. “We just need to stay away from the east end.”

“Why?”

“They don’t like me over in the east end.”

“…Aedion…”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” and he really might. “Let’s just head out now.”

“Thank you for breakfast,” Gavriel smiles softly, warmth radiating from the action.

That warmth seeps into Aedion’s chest, creating a smile on his own face like lava creating a crack in the firm earth.

~~~

“So it went well?” Lysandra grins, poking Aedion’s back.

“You know it did,” Aedion’s voice is muffled by the pillow.

The shifter leans over the semi-fae, sitting cross-legged next to Aedion as he’s splayed out on his stomach in sleep shorts and nothing else. It comes to the point where she’s sprawled entirely across his back, leeching his body warmth.

“Well?” Lysandra pokes the soft bit of a shoulder again. “No details?”

An annoyed huff shakes the body. “We had breakfast. Walked by the river. He told me stories. That’s it.”

“You came back smiling,” Lysandra grins, eyes bright with joy. “Really smiling.”

Aedion rolls over, throwing her off with a smirk. “Well, I do tend to do that when happy.”

“You giggled before.” Those green eyes are flirtatious, teasing now.

“I did not.”

“You did! Before bathing!”

“It was a chuckle!”

“It was adorable,” Lysandra smirks. “I like it when you’re happy.”

That causes his eyes, mouth and heart to soften as he curls his hand around hers. “And I like it when you’re happy.”

“You know what would make me even happier?” Lysandra’s voice drops, her breath brushing against his lips.

A smirk curls around his lips, one hand drifting up to lay across her hip. “Hmm?”

“If you tried to bake me a cake…” soft lips brush against his cheek.

“Consider it done, my lady,” Aedion turns his head, a soft smile meeting another.

~~~

“Just to be clear,” Rowan narrows his eyes, watching Aedion open the oven, “this is the only thing you’re allowed to bake. And it’s only because you have Gavriel’s supervision.”

True to his word, the Lion stands to the side, covered in flour and wiping his hands. At his name, he glances up before turning back to the dishes. It had been embarrassing to have to ask for his father’s aid, but considering that the male has over five hundred years of cooking experience it was perhaps the right decision compared to Aedion’s very limited baking experience. At least the cake is a proper chocolate brown instead of the strange black it had been when Aedion put it in the oven days before.

“Lysandra ordered us to do it,” Aedion stands and wipes his hands, throwing his father the towel to do the same.

“So whatever she says you do?” Rowan raises a brow, eyeing a bowl filled with excess mixture that Aedion walks towards.

“Isn’t that how you and Aelin work?” Aedion muses lightly, lifting a spoonful of mixture to his mouth to eat, ignoring both Gavriel and Rowan’s disgusted looks.

“I am your king, you know.”

“You’re also a-“

“Aedion,” Gavriel’s voice floats from the sink, a tinge or warning in the tone.

Scowling, Aedion turns back to the smirking Rowan.  “You’re also my little cousin's mate, so watch yourself.”

“It’s amusing to watch you be censored by Gavriel,” Rowan smiles, knowing that the simple act can spark more rage than a smirk. “I wonder if he’ll wash your mouth out with soap next for stealing from the bowl and swearing as often as you do.”

“Both of you,” Gavriel calls out, “can leave the kitchen if you’re going to fight. Aedion, don’t eat all the mixture, I deserve a majority of it. Rowan, leave my child alone. You owe me.”

Both fae males scowl at the other before slowly turning away, Rowan leaving the kitchen and Aedion stacking used bowls.

“You could not antagonise him, you know,” Gavriel sighs, walking past to pat Aedion on the shoulder.

His son sends him a truly bewildered look. “What else would I do to amuse myself?”

~~~

It turns out that the amusement doesn’t last long. Not when Aedion feels the need to slip back to the kitchens in the middle of the night, pressing a kiss against Lysandra’s temple to soothe her as he slips from between the sheets, flicking away a few chocolate crabs as he does so. Warm water, possibly with a bit of lemon is what he needs. Uncomplicated yet something rare enough that he was never given it during his time in the war camps. Something soothing, even if his cousin scoffs at the idea of warm water with simple lemon. Once he opens to the door to the kitchen he takes a step back, prepared to close it before he’s noticed.

“Come on in, boyo. The kettle is already on.”

Sighing, Aedion walks in and takes a seat across the table from Fenrys. “Why are you up?”

Fenrys sends him a dry look. “I’m fairly certain it’s the same reason you are. Unless you’d prefer that I ask that question to answer yours, your highness?”

“Shut up.”

“I don’t know how you are Gavriel’s child,” Fenrys sighs, propping his chin in his hand. “So rude.”

“Uh huh,” Aedion mutters, rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t get it either.”

The silence that falls is unsettling, Aedion looking into his drink as Fenrys’s dark eyes focus on the table. So much in common, so much to talk about, yet no way to truly speak.

“Gavriel is worried about you.”

There it is.

“Gavriel is always worried,” Aedion mutters, sipping his drink. “Find a new topic.”

Fenrys snorts. “You think I don’t know that? It’s just that you’re his main topic of discussion nowadays. Anyone asks where they should go to eat and he immediately suggests places you’ve gone or taken him, and then explains the meals you’ve had. Anyone wants to know directions, bam, a conversation about how good you are at navigating the land. People needing to know information on weapons and immediately the Wolf of the North jumps into the conversation. Don’t underestimate how much of his mind you take up.”

Even as he scowls and flushes something squirms pleasantly in Aedion’s chest. “I get it.”

“He also mentions how reckless you are. Particularly when it comes to injuries,” Fenrys stares at Aedion from over his rim. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t get some particularly bad hits taken care of because you hoped they’d finish you off.”

Their eyes meet, a strong tension filling the silence. How many times will discussions like this continue? How many times will subjects like these be brought into light when all they wish to do is ignore them? The very statement itself causes something sick and hideous to rear itself, to scream and thrash inside of Aedion at the act of being disturbed when it was resting for so long.

“Relax,” Fenrys sighs once Aedion’s teeth begin to show, “I’m not gonna pry. I mean, I think you should give Gavriel some more content so he doesn’t keep freaking himself out, but I’m not going to do to you what I’ve had done to me.”

“I wish they’d stop,” Aedion growls, placing his cup back on the table. “As if I want to fucking talk about it.”

Fenrys eyes him, strangely diluted compared to his usual behaviour. “So you don’t want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Alright,” Fenrys shrugs, looking away.

They stew in the silence, Aedion confused by his own anger at the outcome as he makes himself a second cup, Fenrys still working at his tea.

“Why are you up?” Aedion finally asks, trying to keep from snapping. “Why are you here.”

“Same reason as you, boyo,” Fenrys relaxes back in his seat. “I’ve said it before. There’s not much else to say unless you want to talk.”

“I don’t.”

“Alright.”

“We don’t need to.”

“I know,” a small smile tugs at the corner of Fenrys’s mouth. “It’s alright if you don’t as long as you know that you can.”

“It’s fine,” Aedion hisses under his breath, clutching his mug closer. “Sounds like you want to talk.”

“I would,” Fenrys gently stirs his spoon through his tea, “but you’ve made it clear that you don’t want to. I understand why you wouldn’t, being reminded of those kinds of things, of the way you were moved and used and-“

“Stop.”

It’s a halting, sharp word that pauses Fenrys in his tracks. Jaw clenched, Aedion stares at the other male, muscles tense and strained. Fenrys for his part remains lax in his seat, even breaking eye contact to drink his tea. Too far. Too far and too much after the dream he’s just had.

“I know,” Fenrys says quietly once he lowers his cup, seeing something familiar in Aedion’s eyes. “Fuck, boyo, I know.”

“Then stop it.”

“I would, but I honestly think you’re just trying to pretend it all didn’t happen, and that doesn’t work. Trust me. How many times have you asked Lysandra not to touch you, and vice versa?”

Now Aedion’s chair is scrapping back, his mug slamming down on the table as he prepares to leave the room. “Fuck you.”

“Well,” Fenrys releases a dry, lifeless laugh, “isn’t that what happened?”

Swallowing thickly, Aedion shakes his head, betrayal clear in his eyes. “Why?”

“I’m not doing this to be cruel,” Fenrys groans, rubbing at his face, “but I can see that you’re trying to push through things. At least for me, Maeve is dead. You still have people out and walking who laid you down against sheets and hard ground and-“

“Gods, enough!” Aedion backs away from the table. “Do you- do you get some sick satisfaction out of this? Out of reminding me of it? Is that why you’re making this night more terrible than it already is? Because you can’t stand to see me actually try to function like a normal person?”

Something in Fenrys’s expression cracks as if he’s realised the words that have left his mouth. “Fuck, Aedion, no I-“

“I don’t need you talking to me like this!” Aedion’s voice wavers as he braces his hands on the table. “I don’t need you reminding me of all the shit I’ve been through as if I don’t think about it nearly every day!”

Shaking his head, Fenrys braces his elbows on the table and places his head in his hands. “Fuck, no, none of this is what I was trying to do.”

“What?” Aedion seethes. “What exactly were you trying to do? And I swear to the gods if Gavriel put you up to this-“

“He didn’t!” Fenrys lays his hands flat on the table. “I wanted to talk to you!”

“You’ve done a great job at it!” Aedion hates the way his voice shakes. “What the fuck makes you think it’s- it’s alright to-“

“Aedion-“

“You know! You know so why the hell would you say those things?” Fuck whoever may be listening, fuck keeping his voice down. “You know what it’s like to be violated, so why do you keep pushing it?”

Standing, Fenrys sends Aedion a pleading look. “I shouldn’t have said it, I know, I’m sorry. I just… I need someone to talk to, I need to know I’m not alone in this.”

“I’m sick,” Aedion can’t keep his body from shaking, from the words spitting, “of having to act like the adult for those older than me. I missed out on my childhood because of it.”

Fenrys’s very self seems to fold slightly. “I know.”

“It was never fair.”

“I know.” More creases are added to the male.

“And you,” Aedion sucks in a breath, “you do not get to do that to me, you do not get to make me feel like shit just so you can talk to me about your fucking feelings.”

“Aedion,” Fenrys lowers his voice, truth ringing in his tone, “that’s not what I was trying to do at all.”

“Well, you had a fucking good way of showing it,” Aedion snarls.

“I’m sorry,” Fenrys sits and places his head back in his hands. “I went about everything wrong.”

“Yes, you did,” Aedion crosses his arms, swallowing once again. “If you want to talk then damn talk.”

“Right,” Fenrys winces. “I just… I know you’re not alright. And as someone who’s been dealing with this crap for hundreds of years I can tell you that you’re never going to be fully alright.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“But,” Fenrys pushes on, “there will be days better than others. There will be days when it doesn’t cross your mind, or when you can forget for a moment. These things stick with you and follow you, but they don’t always have to engulf your life. I just want you to know that.”

Slowly, Aedion pulls his chair back out and sits down. “I know that.”

“Right.”

“If you need to talk about shit then don’t insult me first. Just talk.”

“I know,” Fenrys’s voice is rough. “It’s just…”

They can’t talk. How can they?

“I know,” Aedion repeats the older male’s words. “This is not what I was expecting when I wanted a drink.”

“…There’s scotch in that cabinet.”

“I’ll get the larger glasses, you get ready to talk. I know where Aelin hides the chocolates and, trust me, we’ll need them.”

~~~

Aedion rests his head against his soft, cool pillow, the gentle fabric fighting against the ache in his head. Lysandra, bless her, left a glass of water on the table by his bed for him. Maybe once he musters the effort he can attempt lifting an arm to drink it. Three knocks sound out on the door, causing Aedion to groan as they slice through his head in slow succession.

“Aedion,” Gavriel keeps his voice low and he cracks open the door, “Fenrys told me that you and he would be disabled for the day.”

He simply wraps the blanket tighter around himself, moving onto his stomach to bury his head into the pillow to block the small amount of light coming from the doorway. To Aedion’s relief, Gavriel closes the door. To his horror, his father is still in the room and pulling up a chair by the bed.

“So…” Aedion inwardly groans at Gavriel’s ‘we’re about to have a discussion’ tone. “You and Fenrys. Most of the scotch and chocolate is gone from this floor’s kitchen.”

“We had a bonding moment,” Aedion says, the words heavily muffled by the pillow.

“A bonding moment?”

“Mhmm.”

“You know,” Gavriel settles into the seat, “you could talk over something other then what we suspect was three bottles of scotch.”

“But then,” Aedion turns his head slightly, voice thick and rough, “it wouldn’t have been as much fun.”

To his relief, Gavriel is wearing an amused smile as he shakes his head, soft delight in his eyes. “I see. And how are you feeling now?”

The Lion has to resist laughing at the long, uncharacteristic whine Aedion releases into the pillow, knowing that it’ll be a torturous sound.

“That bad?”

Another muffled groan.

“Alright,” Gavriel makes to stand. “Just checking in. I’ll leave you to recover like Fenrys is-“

“Wait,” Aedion croaks, lifting his head. “Do you… worry about me? All the time?”

Thinking, Gavriel sinks back into his seat. “Not all the time. But often.”

“You don’t need to,” Aedion groans, already sick of the conversation. “Look, if it makes you feel better, I’m not near as bad as I used to be.”

“I know,” Gavriel gives a strained smile, “but believe it or not, that’s what worries me.”

Aedion blinks. “What?”

“I worry about what past you had to suffer through alone more than I worry about you now,” Gavriel’s expression is soft, if not a little sad.

“I- alright, I’m too hung over for this discussion,” Aedion growls, pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. “Let me sleep. We can pick this up when my brain isn’t flooded with alcohol.”

Gavriel raises his brows. “You know, I would have thought you’d want to avoid a conversation about this-“

“Yeah, well, you’ve caught me on an emotionally available day,” Aedion waves to the door. “Apparently all anyone wants to do lately is talk. Meet me tomorrow when I can stand and we’ll talk.”

“I know you struggle with things such as thing, so this level of emotional maturity you’re demonstrating is-“

“I. Am. Hung. Over,” Aedion grounds out, shoving his face into the pillow. “Tell me how proud you are of me tomorrow.”

Chuckling, Gavriel quietly stands. “Don’t worry, I will.”

Fuck, that shouldn’t make Aedion so happy when his brain is still throbbing.

~~~

“So yesterday you said, and I quote, ‘I worry about what past you had to suffer through alone more than I worry about you now,’ elaborate on that,” Aedion sits across from Gavriel in the Lion’s office, his father pausing in paperwork to stare at his son.

“I… how do you remember that? You were heavily hung over.”

“You’d be surprised at how well I’ve become at multitasking while both drunk and hungover,” Aedion sips his water, expression dark and grim. “Now talk. Apparently, that’s what everyone wants to do lately and Fenrys was right.”

“About?”

“About listening instead of trying to ignore it. And that sometimes when people want to talk it’s for their sake as much as your own.”

Gavriel blinks in wonderment. “I- what did you two talk about?”

“Many topics,” Aedion scowls. “Now start talking before I decide this is a bad idea and leave.”

“There isn’t really much to say, I mean-“

“Oh, no, gods no,” Aedion sits up straighter. “You don’t get to strain conversations out of me every time you think I’ve had so much as a single bad day or I say one passing comment and then throw off your own worries.”

“Fine,” Gavriel sighs and shakes his head. “I suppose that’s fair. I meant that I worry more about what you felt when you were alone and how it affected you. I know that you’re getting better, that you have support now, but back then you didn’t. And that terrifies me.”

Aedion sits for a moment, thinking in silence before talking. “Would it make you feel better if I told you more about that time? About how it really was?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Gavriel runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into talking about a damaging time.”

Aedion taps his fingers against his cup, deep in thought.

Worry begins to enter Gavriel’s mind. “Aedion, I mean it when I say that you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to, or if these are topics of conversations you aren’t ready to approach yet.”

“What if,” Aedion swallows thickly, looking down at his hands, “I did tell you some things but you might not like them?”

Gavriel settles his pen down and braces his arms on the table, eyes flooded with soft concern. “Aedion, at this point it’s not about what I would or would not like. It’s about what you feel the need to talk about if you want to at all. I’m never going to judge you for whatever you are afraid of. Trust me when I say that even as a male of honour I have committed many unnecessary cruel acts over the last hundreds of years.”  

“Sometimes, when I walked off the battlefields, I didn’t get injuries aided to on purpose,” Aedion’s smile is ugly, ugly and sharp and cruel. “That first battle when I couldn’t believe I was one of the last ones standing? The one I told you about in Rosamel?”

Gavriel nods in recognition.

“I didn’t go to the healers. I only had cuts, I was fine thanks to my healing abilities, but there were times when I thought about how much easier it would be if a battle could be my last.”

“Aedion-“

“I shouldn’t have thought that alright? I had people relying on me to do stuff a child shouldn’t even have to think about. I had to try to find a purpose again amongst all the complete and utter shit going on around me. And it was hard. Kyllian was right when he said I broke someone’s arm the first time he met me. I pulled bullshit like that a lot. I was… I was ugly. I fought a lot, fucked a lot and at times only lived out of a guilty need to try to hold Terrasen together,” Aedion’s cruel smile twists into a scowl, “so you were right, it was hell back and then and I had no one to help me. But that shits already happened, so stop feeling guilty about the crap you couldn’t protect or save me from and just look after me now. Please. It’s… it’s what I wanted, back when I had no one. Back when I was watching children be collected by their parents and I was sent to the armoury to get new armour.”

It takes effort, for Gavriel not to clench his hands tighter, to not let his complete and utter horror show on his face. Ugly… that’s the word Aedion uses to describe himself and his state of being back in that time.  But what other words could he think to use? Gavriel, Gavriel to his horror can only think of words along the lines of mess and broken. Shame curdles in his gut at the fact that he can only summon those descriptions of his son at the time, but what else is there to use?

Aedion was a child. Of course, he would be desperate for an escape from that hell.

But he held on.

And he succeeded.

And… Gavriel doesn’t need to say that. Not with the way his son is looking at him with a clenched jaw and furious, determined eyes. Aedion knows and no longer needs to hear it justified back to himself. He doesn’t need that reassurance from Gavriel on this topic, now when he fought and struggled through those personal battles to become victorious all by himself. All Aedion needs Gavriel to do now is… is listen. Not validate. Listen. Listen as Aedion explains exactly what Gavriel and others have forced out of him.

So Gavriel stands the same time Aedion does, walks around the desk and collects his son in his arms. “Of course you would have wanted to leave that hell.”

Aedion shudders against him in relief. “You’re not going to become mad? Or frightened?”

“Do you ever think of doing those things now?”

“No. Not now. Not when I have things back.”

Gavriel pulls back, his hands still firmly placed on Aedion’s shoulders. “Then no, I’m not frightened. I am horrified that you ever thought I would be mad at you for such things.”

“You tend to worry.”

“Aedion, look at our lives. How can I not?” Gavriel grins, his entire body beginning to relax.

“Fair enough,” Aedion sighs. “I’m going back to bed.”

“I thought you rested enough?”

“I’m emotionally exhausted,” Aedion growls, glaring. “I deserve more sleep. Tell no one to disturb me.”

“Fenrys is looking for you.”

“Tell him I’m dead.”

~~~

“Evangeline is seeing someone.”

Aedion’s body stiffens as Lysandra continues to brush her hair, sitting on the edge of the bed. Slowly, Aedion rolls onto his back then sits up, blinking at once in both confusion and horror.

“I…” Aedion collects his thoughts. “This cannot be happening today.”

“Technically,” Lysandra fights a smile, “it’s evening. And I don’t see why this is such a travesty.”

“Of course you don’t,” Aedion groans, collapsing back again. “What happens when whoever it is breaks her heart?”

“Aedion,” Lysandra snorts a small laugh, placing down her brush, “I’m fairly certain we won’t need to worry about that. Evangeline can take care of herself.”

“I know she can,” Aedion groans, covering his face, “but that doesn’t change the horror of the situation.”

“You’ve been awfully dramatic lately.”

“It’s surprisingly freeing.”

“I think I might give it a go tomorrow,” Lysandra lies beside him, placing one hand on his chest. “For tonight…”

“Another cat nap?” Aedion smirks. “Alright, just try not to shift in your sleep again. You’re heavy in snow leopard form.”

It earns him a whack on the chest.

__

Sorry for the long wait and this being such a short chapter! As always, all requests not fulfilled in this chapter will be continued on in the next. It’s just been busy lately and I figured you guys would probably want the chapter sooner than later. I hope you’ve enjoyed it!

[uglypastels]

When You Say Nothing At All - Tom Holland movie AU (2/3)

Part 2 

(a/n) I don’t think I actually have anything to say about this... 

word count: 8184

warning: swearing; mentions of divorce, infertility, the dark side of fame; sexual themes; SPOILERS FOR NOTTING HILL

part 1 

Tom’s POV - 1999 - London - Characters are in their late 20′s  It had easily been the most painful hour of Tom’s life. All of the actors he had met, looked at him as if he was crazy or stupid. Tom couldn’t decide which was worse. But he knew they weren’t wrong.

He walked out of the last interview he had done. It was with a young child actress that clearly already at the age of twelve had her life more put together than he would ever have. It was clearly already getting late, as the crew had started to pack up and most journalists had already left. Tom was also more than ready to leave this suite. He never wanted to come back again.

He was almost at the door when Karen’s voice sounded from the end of the hall. “Mr. Holland,” she called him out. Tom stopped in his tracks, mumbling “Oh, no” a bit too loud. He slowly turned around. Karen was looking at him brightly. “Have you got a minute?”

“No.,” he said honestly. Karen, fortunately, heard it as a joke and broke a little laugh. Defeated, Tom followed the assistant to a room, in which he surprisingly had not been in yet. He wondered how many rooms there could possibly be in this suite alone.

She opened the door for him. Tom’s face lit up with a smile at the sight in front of him. (Y/N) got up out of her chair when she saw him. Her suit jacket lay somewhere abandoned. Her long hair loose. She said a small “Hi”. The door closed behind him. He didn’t even look. They were finally alone again. Had she asked for him? Probably. Tom did his best to hide his excitement. He also responded with just a “Hi.” For some reason, (Y/N) looked nervous. He didn’t understand why. It was just him.

“Uhm… Yeah, so, the, um…” She started mumbling. It was cute, Tom thought. “The, the thing I was doing tonight. I’m not doing anymore. I told them I had to spend the evening with Britain’s premiere equestrian journalist.” She smiled.

“Oh,” Tom smiled too. “Well, great. Fantastic.” He already started to think where he could take her this evening. Of course, nothing would probably even come close to what she was used to. He barely could afford to eat himself. Dinner...oh no! He completely forgot.

“Shit. It’s my brother’s birthday. Shit.” He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. “We’re meant to be having dinner.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” she said, not seeming to be very bothered by the fact.

“No. I’m sure I can get out of it.”

“No, I mean, if it’s fine with you, I’ll be your date.” Had he heard that correctly? Did (Y/F/N) really just suggest to be his date? He looked at her with wide eyes. “You’ll be my date to my little brother’s birthday party?”

“If it’s alright.” She looked a bit concerned. He must have sounded rude.

“Well, yeah, I’m sure it’s all right. My friend Max is cooking,” he remembered, “and he is generally acknowledged to be the worst cook in the world, but you could hide the food in your handbag or something.”  

“Okay.” she genuinely seemed happy to go.

“Okay.”

Tom had asked (Y/N) if it would be okay if he picked her up at eight. She had simply nodded and then her publicist walked in, saying that she had a sudden interview in two minutes and had to get ready.

When he got back home, Tom called Bella, Max’ wife to check if it was okay if he brought a date. The party would be held at their place as it would be very likely that Max could burn down the kitchen in an attempt to cook. So it would be better if it wasn’t someone else's.

(Y/N) stood next to him as Tom rang the doorbell. She looked very casual, but still very fabulous. Her hair was up in, what he thought was called, a milkmaid braid. She was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, over that a light jacket.

The door opened. Max had not even come up to it. Just opened it as soon as he could reach the handle, and walked away immediately after it. “Hi, come on in. Vague food crisis.” He disappeared back into the kitchen. Tom looked at (Y/N), who was in a small shock. They laughed together and stepped into the house. Tom, of course, let her walk in first.

“Hiya,” Bella said from the living room, they followed her voice. “Sorry, the guinea-fowl is proving more complicated than expected.”

“He’s cooking guinea-fowl?” Tom asked. It was a classic move for Max, to cook something he could barely even pronounce.

“Don’t even ask.” Bella rolled her eyes. Then, she noticed (Y/N). they both said hi and shook hands. Then, Bella’s eyes widened. “Good lord, you’re the spitting image of…” before she could finish, Tom said: “Bella, this is (Y/N).” he introduced his date to his friend. Bella scoffed in disbelief and answered with a “Right.”

“Okay, crisis over!” Max could be heard out of the kitchen. Bella’s eyes didn’t leave (Y/N).

“Max, this is (Y/N).” He put his hand on her back, and lead her to the kitchen, where Max was fanning away some smoke erupting from the oven with a hand towel. (Y/N) gave him her hand and said a small “hi” still remembering her entrance.

“Hello, (Y/N)...(Y/L/N).” Max seemed to be in a small state of shock, realizing whose hand it was that he was shaking. “Have some wine.” he smiled nervously.

“Thank you,” she said. Then the doorbell rang and Max, being the good host, excused himself to welcome their next guests. While he was gone, Tom thought it would be quicker if he poured the drinks. “Red or white?” he asked. She was about to answer when Tom’s brother, Patrick, walked in.

“Hi guys,” he seemed excited, probably ready to give Tom a tight hug. Then he saw (Y/N). “Holy fuck!” Tom felt like he was the one that was supposed to break the ice in this situation.

“Paddy, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Paddy - Patrick. He’s my baby brother.” (Y/N) was looking at him and her expression softened when she knew what was going on, she turned around to Patrick, who was holding a hand in front of his mouth in shock. “Hi.” she smiled.

“Oh god. This is one of those key moments in life when it’s possible you can be really genuinely cool and I’m going to fail just 100%.” (Y/N) looked very confused at the younger man in front of her. “I absolutely adore you.” he took a few steps to her. “And I just think you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Tom looked at (Y/N) while his brother was having his little moment. She didn’t seem mad that Patrick was technically confessing his love to her, but she wasn’t very comfortable with it either.

“And I’ve believed for some time now, that we could be best friends.” Well, that was not as bad as Tom had expected. “So what do you think?” (Y/N) looked at Patrick rather flabbergasted. She mumbled a few uhh…’s before saying: “Lucky me.” She cleared her throat and remembered she had a present for him. Tom had told her that she didn’t need to bring him anything, but she had insisted.

“Happy birthday.” She handed him the small box. Patrick actually gasped. Tom wasn’t sure when the last time was that he watched his baby brother act like that. It was like he was twelve all over again.

“We’re best friends already, then.” he smiled. Then, his eyes lit up, “Marry Tom, he’s a really nice guy, then we can be siblings.” Tom laughed awkwardly. Thinking, if he would slam his head hard enough on the cupboard, would he maybe pass out?  This was getting a bit too much. (Y/N) smiled politely and responded with: “I’ll think about it.”

The doorbell rang again, releasing a bit of the awkward tension in the room. Max sighed: “That’ll be Bernie.”

Bernie walked into the living room, holding some shapeless purple package, that was probably Patrick’s birthday present. Max introduced (Y/N) before Tom had the chance.

“Hello, (Y/N). Delighted to meet you.” They shook hands for a second and then Bernie immediately walked to Patrick. “Pads, happy birthday to you.” he sang. He said a quick “Hi” to Bella. Patrick looked interested at the strange package that was now in his hands. “It’s a hat,” Bernie explained. “You don’t have to wear it or anything. Hi Tom.” Bernie walked around, grabbing a handful of peanuts that were displayed on the table as a casual snack. Everyone looked at him, awaiting a moment of realization and shock about who was standing in front of him, but nothing happened.

“Hi,” Tom repeated, a bit awkwardly.

“What?” Bernie saw how everyone was looking at him. Then Max moved into action. “Wine, Bernie?” Bernie hummed a yes. Max picked up a glass from the kitchen and then pulled Tom away from the rest, to the corner of the room where all the alcohol for the night was laid out.

“You haven’t slept with her, have you?” The sudden question startled Tom a bit, almost making him burn his hand from the match his was holding.

“That is a cheap question and the answer is, of course, no comment.” they had been doing this to each other ever since they met, years ago. The answer always stayed the same, whether it was true or false.

“No comment means yes.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He looked at Max, again almost burning his fingers while he tried to light another candle.  

“Do you ever masturbate?”

“Absolutely no comment.” He looked away from his friend.

“You see, it means “yes”.” Max walked away with the wine bottle. Tom followed, not being done with the conversation. They soon did change the subject, getting a bit too uncomfortable with the last one. From the corner of his eye, he saw (Y/N) talk to Bernie. He couldn’t hear what they were exactly talking about, but at a certain point, he saw Bernie widen his eyes… almost as if in horrific shock.

“Right, I think we’re ready.” Max clapped his hands. Bella and Patrick were already at the table. (Y/N) turned around from Bernie and looked down at Bella. “Bella, can you tell me where I can find…”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, yeah. It’s down the corridor on the right,” she said, understanding the problem without it being said. Patrick got up.

“I’ll show you. I’ll show you.” Tom almost choked on his drink. What was Pads doing? Before he could stop his younger brother, unfortunately, he had already walked into the corridor. (Y/N) walked behind him, smiling nervously at Tom. He smiled back, reassuring her it was gonna be fine. The moment she was in the corridor too, Bella and Max gathered around him. In a quick and hushed voice, she said: “Quickly, quickly, quickly. Talk very quickly. What are you doing here with (Y/F/N)?”

“(Y/F/N)?” Bernie said out loud, “What, the movie star?” Max and Bella tried to shush him. Bernie hit his head with the palm of his hand. “Oh god. Oh goddy God.”

“What did you say to her?” Tom asked scared. Right then, Patrick walked back in. His face almost the same color as the hideous red-orange shirt he was wearing.

“I can’t believe it. I don’t believe it. I actually walked into the loo with her.” Tom felt like he was about to faint. His brother just harassed his date, great. “I was still chatting when she started unbuttoning her jeans. She had to ask me to leave.” Max started laughing. In any different situation, Tom would have laughed too at the idiocracy of his little brother, but this was not okay.

“So you knew who she was?” Bernie asked Patrick, who was now laughing along with Max.

“Of course I did, but he didn’t!”  he started to laugh at Bernie, who rolled his eyes.

“Well, not instantly, but I got away with it though.” Tom slightly started to wish he hadn’t brought her with him.

Those thoughts did slowly fade, once dinner had actually started. The guinea-fowl had not been a complete disaster. The six of them were now talking and laughing about nonsense. Max left the table momentarily to get the cake.

“So, how’s the guinea-fowl?” he asked from the kitchen. He wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, but Tom knew it was mostly intended to (Y/N). She smiled and said: “Best guinea-fowl I’ve ever tasted.” That was a bit strange of her to say, Tom thought, as he had not seen her eat the poultry and he was pretty sure that he had read somewhere that (Y/N) was vegetarian. Anyway, he appreciated it how she didn’t want to hurt his friend's feelings.

Patrick put on the horrible blue hat that Bernie had given him. It looked horrendous, but he somehow pulled it off. There were many more laughs after Max had brought out the cake and the brownie. Patrick had blown out the candles and then they talked more while popping celebratory crackers. Tom couldn’t help it but gaze over at (Y/N) from time to time, who was sitting right opposite him. She didn’t say much through the whole evening. She mostly just observed while the others held their conversations. He doubted that she had many chances in her life to just do simple things like that: sit around a table with close friends and laugh. Nothing specific on anyone’s mind, while they stuff themselves with slightly overbaked cake.

“Having you here, (Y/N), firmly establishes what I’ve long suspected, that we really are the most desperate lot of under-achievers,” Max said as he shoved another piece of brownie into his mouth. Tom agreed. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” Max added. “In fact, I think it’s something we should take pride in.” He looked as Bernie handed the plate of brownies to Tom and he, in his turn, gave it to Patrick. “I’m gonna give the last brownie as a prize to the saddest act here.” He smirked. Everybody was getting a bit excited, already thinking of some sad stories in their lives, in a chance to getting that brownie… at least, that’s what Tom was doing.

“Bern?” he suggested his friend goes first. Bernie looked surprised at the call of his name. Max, Bella, and Paddy started laughing. (Y/N) had also giggled a little bit.

“Alright, alright. Well, obviously it’s me, isn’t it?” he said, almost inaudible because of the piece of brownie still in his mouth. “I mean, I work in the city in a job I don’t understand and everyone keeps getting promoted above me. I haven’t had a girlfriend since, well, since puberty.” He swallowed the rest of his brownie. “And nobody fancies me...and if these cheeks get any chubbier, they never will.” With that, he put the last piece of his own fudge brownie into his mouth.

“Please, unless I’m much mistaken, your job still pays you rather a lot of money.” Max commented once Bernie was done pitying over himself, “While Paddy here earns twenty pence a week flogging his guts out in London’s worst record store.”

“Yes!” he agreed. “And I haven’t got hair, I’ve got…this” he pointed around his head. Tom had to admit, it looked rather tragic. “And I’ve got funny looking eyes and I’m attracted to cruel women. Actually, no one would want to marry me because my balls have actually started shrinking.” everyone laughed.

“You see, it’s incredibly sad,” Max concluded.

“Yeah, but on the other hand, his best friend is (Y/F/N),” Bella added.

“That’s true. I can’t deny it. She needs me. What can I say?” Paddy smiled while taking a tug at his cigarette.

“And most of her limbs work, whereas I’m stuck in this thing day and night, in a house full of ramps.” Bella sighed. “And to add insult to serious injury, I’ve totally given up smoking, my favorite thing. And uhm…” she looked at Max, who smiled at her lovingly, “Well, the truth is, we can’t have a baby.” A silence around the table fell. Tom shared a look with (Y/N), who was sitting right next to Bella and Max.

“Oh, Belle,” Tom felt so sorry for his friend. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

‘C’est la vie.” she sniffed. “Still, we’re lucky in lots of ways. But surely that’s worth a brownie.” She smiled.

“Well, I don’t know.” Max leaned forward in his seat, “Look at Thomas.” Tom laughed, knowing what will come next. “Very unsuccessful professionally.”

“That’s true.” Bella and Patrick agreed. Tom hoped that (Y/N) somehow managed not to hear any of this. Although, that was very unlikely to happen. His friends continued bashing his life. “Divorced. Used to be handsome, now kind of squidgy round the edges.” Max specifically looked at (Y/N) while he said this last part. She laughed with the rest. “And absolutely certain never to hear from (Y/N) again once she’s heard that his nickname at school was Floppy.” Before Max had finished the sentence, Tom tried to stop his friend, but he only said it louder, accompanied by Bernie.

“You did. I can’t believe it, you did.” His friends laughed even louder. “Thanks very much. Thank you.” he bowed down in his seat. “Well at least I get the last brownie, right?” he was already leaning forward, trying to reach the plate, when (Y/N) stopped him: “Well, wait, what about me?” The rest stopped laughing and looked at each other, a bit surprised. Even Tom had not expected her to join in.

“I’m sorry?” Max asked, “You think you deserve the brownie?”

“Well, a shot at it at least, huh?” she looked around the table, lastly at Tom. “Right, well, you will have to prove it,” he smirked, the brownie still in his hand. “I mean, this is a very, very good brownie and I’m gonna fight for it.” She thought for a moment and then started naming a list, that was, even for Tom, a bit too long: “I’ve… been on a diet every day since I was 19, which basically means I’ve been hungry for a decade.” she laughed, giving the rest an OK to join her. “I’ve had a series of not so nice boyfriends, one of whom hit me… And every time I get my heart broken, the newspapers splash it about as though it’s entertainment.” she gave a nervous laugh, the rest didn’t. Too captivated by her sad story.

“And it’s taken two rather painful operations to get me looking like this.”

“Really?” Paddy sounded fascinated.

“Really.” (Y/N) said, pointing first at her chin, then at her nose with a sly smile. “And one day, not long from now, my looks will go, they will discover I can’t act, and I will become some sad middle-aged woman who looks a bit like someone who was famous for a while.” Her eyes were transfixed onto one of the candles that stood on the table. Bella put down her cup and looked sadly at her, so did Max. From his angle, Tom couldn’t properly see what Patrick or Bernie were doing, but from his own actions and those of his other two best friends, he could assume it was something like it. Max stroke his chin, as if in deep thought.

“No, nice try, gorgeous, but you don’t fool anyone.” She started laughing at Max.

“Pathetic effort to hog the brownie.” Tom joked. On the inside, he wasn’t very sure if it was appropriate, but she kept smiling.

Not much later, it was already getting late and it was time for Tom to take (Y/N) back to her hotel.

“Thank you for such a terrific time.” She shook hands with Max and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Max had wanted to say that he was delighted but suddenly fell very still. “That’s a great tie.”

“Now you’re lying,” he spoke.

“Okay, it’s true. I told you I was bad at acting.” She walked over to Bella. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“And you, and you. I’ll wait until you’ve gone before I tell him you’re a vegetarian.” Bella smiled. Max, who had been re-adjusting his tie, almost choked on it when he heard his wife say this. With terror in his eyes, he apologized. (Y/N) smiled and then walked to Patrick and Bernie. “Goodnight.”

“Look, I’m so sorry about the loo thing.” Tom wished he wouldn’t bring it back up again. It was already rather uncomfortable. “I meant to leave, but I just…”

“Happy birthday.” She said before Paddy would dig a whole he couldn’t get out of. He thanked her. “Sorry, can I just,” he gripped her in a small embrace. This was a definite sign for Tom to go.

“Leave her,” Tom pulled his younger brother off of her and lead (Y/N) back to the corridor. They all said “Bye” a few more times until the door between them was definitely closed. Tom and (Y/N) were already walking away when the sound of people laughing and screaming loudly could be heard from the inside of the green house. (Y/N) started to break out laughing too.

“Sorry. They always do that when I leave the house.” Tom joked. “It’s a stupid thing. I hate it. They continued walking, in silence once the screams of his friends died down.

“Floppy, huh?” she asked curiously, looking ahead.

“It’s the hair. It’s to do with the hair,” he explained. Tom saw on her face that there was another question she wanted to ask. “Why is she in a wheelchair?”

“Because she had an accident about 18 months ago.” He looked down at the ground, not sure if his friend wanted him to tell (Y/N) her whole story. He simply kept to the very basics of it.

“And the pregnancy thing, is that to do with the accident?”

“You know, I’m not sure. I don’t think they tried for kids before, as fate would have it.” They walked on in silence. It was not exactly the silence that would be called uncomfortable, but it was not the silence that you want to keep for long. It was a silence that Tom had a need to break. Just didn’t know with what.

“Do you want to…” he started talking before the full question actually had formed in his mouth. She looked at him, waiting for Tom to finish the question. “My place is just…”

“Too complicated.” She said. There were no clear emotions in her voice or her face. Yet, still, Tom understood what she meant.

“That’s fine.”  He put his hands in his pockets. Feeling a bit stupid he had asked her in the first place.

“Busy tomorrow?” She asked. He looked up at her, surprised.

“I thought you were leaving tomorrow.” they looked at each other and she smiled. “I was.”

They walked on, the streets were dark for the most part. Some bits lit up with the old lanterns and some lights coming from the houses around them. Tom was not sure how late it was. It didn’t feel past midnight, but it just as well may be already 3 in the morning.

“All these streets round here have these mysterious communal gardens in the middle of them.” He told her, while they passed a wall of bushes and hedge, separating two houses on either side. “They’re like little villages.

“Let’s go in.” She said when they were in front of the gate. It was towering above them, a big lock on eye height.

“No, that’s the point. They’re private villages. Only the people who live around the edges are allowed in.”  She turned to look at him, looking a bit disappointed.

“You abide by rules like that?” She raised an eyebrow mockingly.

“I don’t, no, no, but others do.” He started walking up to the gate. “And I just do what I want.” Tom pulled at the gate. It moved around but it was still far from opening. He saw that a part of the fence which was normally covered with ivy, was a bit visible, making it hopefully easier to climb over it. “Uhm… right.”  He pulled his leg up on a horizontal bar in the fence and started to pull himself up. He could already look over it when he felt his leg slip up. He could just manage to not fall on the ground. With a ground he kept his balance, mumbling a “Whoopsie-daisies.”

(Y/N) was laughing. “What did you say?” He turned around.

“Nothing.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

She smiled knowing very well what he said: “You said whoopsie-daisies.”

“No one says whoopsie-daisies, do they? I mean unless they’re…”

“There is no ��unless”. Because no one has said whoopsie-daisies for 50 years. And even then it was just little girls with blonde ringlets.” She could barely make out the words while laughing. Tom, feeling extremely embarrassed, just nodded and said: “Exactly, right.” He glanced at the gate, then at her, then at the gate again. “So here we go again.” He gripped the bars tightly and tried to pull himself. Alas, once again, he felt his legs slip and he fell against the wall of ivy that covered the rest of the iron fence. “Whoopsie-daisies,”  he exclaimed as he this time really fell on the ground. (Y/N) laughed loudly at his actions.

“Yeah, well, it’s a disease. It’s a clinical thing.” He got up and turned to her. “I’m taking pills and having injections. And I’m told it won’t last long so…”

“Okay, stand aside,” she shooed him away. Tom did as she told him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said as she was eyeing down the fence. “Really, it’s quite tricky. (Y/N)... (Y/N), don’t, it’s harder than it…” She was already at the top and pulling her leg over the fence. “No, it’s not. It’s easy.” She got her second leg over it and jumped down on to the little wall next to the gate. She held onto a thick tree branch to keep her balance.

“Come on, Flopsy.” She said, looking ahead of her and leaving Tom behind the gate.

“Right. Right!” He could do it. He had to do it. He couldn’t leave (Y/N) alone in the garden. For the third time, he gripped onto the bars at the top of the fence and pulled himself up. With a groan, he managed to stay up there. Now was the really hard part. He had to manage to get over to the other side. He tried not to think about the spiked bars that were right underneath him while he pulled his leg over the fence.

“Oh, God. This could be very unpleasant.” He said to himself. He managed to get one leg over it. Now the other one and he would be there. OK. Slowly, carefully, he pulled his other leg over the fence. Then he could feel his hand slip from one of the iron bars. He swung a bit to the right, hitting his knee on the gate. He groaned in pain.

(Y/N) was standing a few feet away from him. In an open space of the garden. She was turned with her back to him.

“Now what in the world in this garden could make that ordeal worthwhile?” He said as he reached her. His knee still hurt, but he tried not to think about it. (Y/N) turned to him and kissed him. It threw him off a bit. Why did she have to kiss him everytime he wasn’t ready? Once, just once, he wanted to be the one to make her feel like that.

She pulled away before he could do anything, and smiled. Tom felt his cheeks heat up a bit. “Nice garden.” He had to keep it a bit cool. She rolled her eyes and pulled his hand as she started walking. He hadn’t even noticed when she grabbed it.

They walked around for ages. Talking about nothing and everything. They looked around, even though there was barely anything visible in the dark. Finally, they stopped in front of a wooden bench in the middle of a clearing. A lamp behind them made it possible for them to see the engraving that was added to the backrest. (Y/N) read it out loud: “For June who loved this garden, from Joseph who always sat beside her.” underneath that, stood: June Wetherby 1917 - 1992, with a shamrock. She looked at it amazed, while Tom couldn’t keep his eyes from her. She looked so beautiful in the night light. The one street light illuminating her profile and making her eyes sparkle.

“Some people do spend their whole lives together.” she gasped and sat down on the bench. She looked at the sky. There weren’t many stars visible, due to the clouds and light pollution in general. Tom stood there, a few feet away from the bench. His legs started to move backward. It felt like she wanted to be alone.

“Come and sit with me.” She said. He did exactly that.

The next morning, Tom woke up late. He was supposed to meet (Y/N) at the movies and he couldn’t find his glasses anywhere. He had gotten out of the shower, he ran around the flat looking for them. Water still dripping off of him while he tried to hold on to the towel around his waist.

“Have you seen my glasses?” He asked Harrison, who lay half awake on the couch, his feet on the table in front of him. He hummed out: “No, afraid not.”

“Big, big bollocks.” he looked at the bookshelf, “Average day, my glasses are everywhere. Everywhere I look there’s a pair of glasses. But when I want to go to the cinema they’ve vanished.” He turned over pillows and threw some clothes around. “It’s one of life’s real cruelties.”

“That’s compared to, like, earthquakes in the Far East or testicular cancer, is it?” Harrison said, not looking up from his paper. Tom wanted to comment on his flatmate's sentence, but when he looked up his eyes caught a glance at the clock on the desk.

“Oh shit, is that the time?” He ran upstairs to get dressed. When he ran back down, he yelled out to Harrison: “Thanks for all your help on the glasses thing.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” he said, still not looking up from the article he was reading. “Did you find them?”

“Sort of.” Tom groaned as he couldn’t find the sleeve of his jacket.

“Great.”

He only had one other option, except for going to see the movie half blind. So, when the movie started and the lights went off, he put on his diving goggles. (Y/N) almost started crying from laughter when she looked at him. He didn’t mind. He knew he looked like a twat.

During the movie, she would keep throwing popcorn at his face, scaring him every time as he couldn’t see her because of the goggles blocking most of his peripheral vision.

After the movie, they went to a sushi restaurant. It was an average dinner time, so the place was quite packed. Every table was occupied with people talking and laughing. Including the one where Tom and (Y/N) were seated. They had a table at the window. There wasn’t much of a view except for the plants growing outside. They had been talking about their own lives. Just getting to know each other a bit better.

“So who left who?” she asked him. Somehow they managed to land on the topic of his tragic divorce.  Normally he didn’t like to talk about it but he felt comfortable around her. “Er - she left me.”

“Why?” she stirred the drink in her hand. Tom had to think about how to make his story less pathetic.

“She saw through me.” he smiled a lightly. She brought her glass to her lips. “Oh-oh, that’s not good.”

A laughter from behind them broke out. There was a table with a couple of businessmen. They all looked to Tom as neither could pronounce any of the dishes that they were currently eating. Their laughter getting louder and more obnoxious.

“You can give me (Y/F/N) any day.” One of them said. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she listened to what the man had to say. There was a small wall between their tables so the man couldn’t see her or Tom.

“I didn’t like her last film.” Another one commented. “Fell asleep as soon as the lights went down.” She gave Tom a look of “fair enough”.

“I don’t really care what the film’s like.” the first guy said. “Any film with her in, it’s fine by me.” The man laughed. (Y/N) smiled. A third man added to the conversation: “She’s not my type at all. I prefer the other one. You know, blonde, sweet looking. You know, what’s her name? Has an orgasm every time you take her out for a cup of coffee.” (Y/N) mouthed the words “Meg Ryan” to Tom just as the man at the next table said it too in a chorus.

“No, she’s too wholesome.” the first one talked again. “You see, the point about Miss (Y/L/N) is she’s got that twinkle in her eye.” She gave Tom a seductive look with a wink and smirked, then started laughing. The conversation of the men at the next table continued: “Probably drug0induced. Spends most of her life in bloody rehab.” She rolled her eyes.

“Well, whatever. She’s so clearly up for it.” (Y/N) the smile disappeared from her face. She listened in concentration to what they had to say about her. “I mean, you see, most girls, they’re all like, “stay away chum”. But (Y/N)...” he made a disgusting sound. “She is absolutely gagging for it.” Tom saw her getting a bit uncomfortable. He wanted to do something about it. Those guys were being extreme dicks.

“Do you know that in over 50% of languages, the word for “actress” is the same as the word for ‘prostitute’?” They started laughing. One of them asked where his friend got that “fact” from.

“And (Y/N) is your definitive actress,” the same guy said it, with his mouth full.

“Right, that’s it. Sorry.” Tom got up, now really sick of it. His heart was raging with anger.  Who did they think they were, talking like that about another person. About (Y/N). The sweetest, most beautiful woman he had ever met. She tried to stop him, but it didn’t work. He walked up to the table of dicks while they were enjoying another of their vulgar comments about the girl that was sitting just a table away from them.

“Sorry, sorry to disturb you guys, but…” they looked up at Tom, still laughing. One of them, the one who had made most of the remarks asked: “Can I help?”

“Well, yeah,” Tom said. “I wish I hadn’t overheard your conversation, but I...I did. And, I just think, you know the person you’re talking about is a real person and I think she probably deserves a little bit more consideration rather than having jerks like you drooling over her.” he didn’t want to pull her into it. He could handle it himself.

The guy in front of him scoffed. “Oh, sod off, mate. What are you, her dad?” they all started laughing obnoxiously again. Tom wanted to say that he was her boyfriend, in fact. But was he? They’ve only been on two dates, one including his brothers birthday party one night ago. You wouldn’t call it a relationship really. Before he could come back with a remark, he could feel her tug at his arm, pulling him backward.

“I’m sorry,” Tom said embarrassed at his failure to defend her.

“No, I love that you tried.” Ow, that hurt. “Time was I’d have done the same thing. In fact…” They had been walking to the exit when she stopped. She put on a smile on her face and walked back, straight to the table of jerks. Tom followed her but stayed in the distance as she neared the table. “Hi,” she said. Tom couldn’t see her face, but the expressions on the guys’ faces were priceless. The color of their faces vanished as they looked up at her.

“Oh my God!” said the most obnoxious one of all.

“I just wanted to apologize for my friend. He’s very sensitive.” The guy shot up, his chopsticks held on to a piece of fish that were on the verge of falling to the ground and he held his pint in a way that it could spill if he only moved his hand by a millimeter. He stammered something that could be a start to an apology. (Y/N) stopped him. “No, no, no, leave it. I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm. I’m sure it was just friendly banter… I’m sure you guys have dicks the size of peanuts.” She added the last part through gritted teeth, probably still trying to smile.  “Enjoy your dinner. The tuna’s are really good.” and she turned around. Tom walked after her, giving the guys one last look. They still looked paralyzed as they watched her walk away.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done that,” she repeated it all the way up to the entrance of the Ritz.

“No, you were brilliant,” Tom assured her.

“I’m rash and I am stupid.” she laughed at herself, “What am I doing with you?” she looked him in the eyes.

“I don’t know, I’m afraid.” He really didn’t. How had he managed to convince the amazing (Y/N) to go out on a date with him? It was a miracle.

“I don’t either.” They reached the entrance of the hotel. (Y/N) looked inside and then at Tom again. “Here we are.”

“Yes.” He didn’t know what to do. “Well, look…”

“Do you wanna come up?” she asked.

“Well, there seem to be lots of reasons why I shouldn’t, so…”

“There are lots of reasons.” she agreed. “Do you wanna come up?” Tom simply nodded. “Give me five minutes.” She walked away with a smirk. When she disappeared behind the door, Tom leaned against the wall. This was really happening. He would go up to her room. Where they would be alone. And, possibly, kiss…

Four minutes and thirty seconds later, Tom walked inside. He got into the elevator, pressed the same number three button he did last time and the doors closed. When they opened again he was on the third floor. Immediately taking a turn to the right, he walked on. This time there were no journalists. No interviews. It would just be him and her. He knocked on the door.

(Y/N) opened. They said hi. Tom walked up to her to kiss her, but she had moved slightly, causing his lips to land on her cheek. He wasn’t mad. “To be able to do that is such a wonderful feeling.” He confessed with a smile.

“You’ve got to go,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“Because my boyfriend, who was in America, is, in fact, now in the next room.” She pointed to the wall next to her.

“Boyfriend?” Tom didn’t understand. He thought he was the boyfriend. Or, at least, possibly on his way there. Was it too bold of an assumption?

“Yes.” She wanted to explain but as if on cue a voice from the other room called: “Hey, baby, who is it?”

“It’s a…” (Y/N) didn’t manage to mumble out much. Out of the next room, walked out a man, who Tom couldn’t help but think that he would fit perfectly around the jerks from the restaurant. He looked at Tom suspecting.

“Uh… Room service.” Tom improvised.

“Oh. How are you doing?” he smiled. Tom had to admit, the man looked a mess. “I thought you guys always wore those penguin coats?” he joked. Tom had to go along.

“Usually we do. But I was just changed to go home. And..uhm… then I thought I’d take this final call.”  

“Oh, great. If you don’t mind, I would like something, too.” He was unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. “Could you bring me up some really, really cold water?”

Tom barely heard the words, still confused about the whole situation. She had a boyfriend. Who was standing right in front of him? Blankly, he said: “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Still, not sparkling.”

“Absolutely, Ice-cold still water.”

He removed the dress shirt, under which he had a normal grey t-shirt. “Unless, of course, it’s illegal in the UK to serve beverages below room temperature. I wouldn’t want you going to jail just to satisfy my whim, now.” he joked. Tom didn’t exactly understand it, but smiled.

“No, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Thanks.” he left to the bathroom. (Y/N) looked at Tom and was about to say something when her boyfriend came back. “Hey, one more thing, if you don’t mind, could you adiós those dirty dishes and take out the trash, too?” Tom was sure that under any other circumstance, he would be a really great guy, but now he just seemed like a huge dick. As if in trance, Tom stepped in and went over to the table where the plates lay. (Y/N) tried to push him back.

“No. No. Don’t do that. I don’t think it’s his job to clear.” she explained to her boyfriend who looked at her weirdly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. What’s your name, man?” Tom couldn’t think of his own name. Completely blanking on everything… maybe he was having a seizure? Yes! And these were all some cruel hallucinations. That must be it. Tom just said the first name that popped into his brain: “Bernie.”

“Oh, listen, Bernie, thank you, I really appreciate it.” the man pulled out a note and put it in Tom’s hand. He didn’t see how much it was. Then, he went over and kissed her. Right in front of Tom. The audacity to pull her in so close, just like Tom wanted to do ever since he met her. He pulled away.

“So, tell me, tell me, tell me. Good surprise or nasty surprise?” She stared at him, definitely surprised, then said: “Good surprise.”  

“Oh, you’re such a liar.” he shook his head excited. He turned to Tom to tell him that “She hates surprises.” How funny, Tom thought, he hates them too. “Hey, what are you gonna order?”

“Huh?” she looked confused at her boyfriend, who suddenly was jumping with energy.

“From him,” he pointed at Tom, “What are you gonna order?”

“Oh, uhm… I haven’t decided yet.” She confessed.

“Well, don’t overdo it.” he walked away to the bathroom. “I don’t want people saying, there goes that famous actor the big fat girlfriend.” If Tom wasn’t scared of him hitting him back, he would have punched the shit out the guy.

“I should leave,” he whispered when the bathroom door closed. (Y/N) looked at him with broken eyes. He picked up the dirty plates and the waste bucket. (Y/N) rushed her hand through her hair, clearly feeling nervous and uncomfortable. Tom wanted to make her feel better, but it wasn’t his place to do so. Not with her boyfriend in the room next door. “This is a fairly strange reality to be faced with.” he sighed.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her words were getting a bit stuck in her throat. “I don’t… know what to say.”

“Well,” he looked away for a second, “I think goodbye is traditional.” he hated goodbyes. He hated traditional. Especially both together, if it had to do with her. In her eyes, he could see she was thinking the same.

(Y/N) walked him out, apologizing once more. Tom walked down the empty corridor, now feeling much colder than when he was walking there before. He left the plates in front of another room, knowing that the actual room service would clean it when they saw it.

Finally, outside, he was met with fresh air, but he still couldn’t breathe. He started walking wherever his legs were taking him, which was apparently the bus stop. The red vehicle didn’t come much later. Of course, it was one of those that promoted the HELIX movie. Her beautiful face right in the middle of it.

Tom stepped inside, paid for a ticket and then walked all the way to the back. There were other places for him to sit, but he felt like the last row would be isolating, very fitting to his current situation and feeling.

Once he got home all he wanted to do was fall into his bed and fall asleep, hopefully never to wake up again. But he couldn’t even close his eyes. He lay wide awake for at least an hour. He wondered what he could do to get the sleep to hit his brain. He knew that there was a movie theatre not far from the flat which had late screenings. Maybe there was something.

There was definitely something. Unfortunately, the only movie that still had tickets available was HELIX. Tom had no other choice. He purchased the ticket and went inside. There weren’t many people in the small room.

He wanted to hate it. He wanted to hate her. But his heart wouldn’t let him. She still looked as beautiful as she did yesterday, before all of that in the hotel room happened, before the boyfriend. Tom watched (Y/N) walk in slow-motion. Her space suit shiny from all the touch ups the editors had made to the film. He watched her stop in the middle of the hall of the space station and put on her helmet. He listened to her saying her lines, but nothing stuck. He couldn’t concentrate on anything.

“Come on. Open up.” Harrison was sitting opposite of him on the sofa. “This is me. Hazza.” He made some sad jazz-hands. It somehow made Tom chuckle a bit.

“I’m in contact with some quite important spiritual vibrations. Come on. Hit me with it.” Tom looked at his flatmate. Not really sure if he was the person who he should tell this to. But Harrison was the only person there and Tom at least hoped he could trust him a little bit. He took a deep breath before talking.

“There’s this girl.”

“Aha.” Harrison nodded along. “See, I’d been getting a female vibe. Good. Speak on, dear friend.”

“Er- she’s someone who… can’t be mine.” Tom stared into his cup of now cold tea. “And it’s as if I’ve taken love heroin and now I can’t ever have it again.” he laughed at his stupid analogy. “I’ve opened Pandora’s Box and there’s this trouble inside.”

Harrison leaned back. “Hmmm, yeah. Tricky. Tricky.” He talked very slowly. “I knew a girl at school called Pandora.” Tom wasn’t sure where that came from or what it had to do with anything he had just said.

“Never got to see her box though.” Harrison giggled idiotically.

“Right. Right, thanks, that’s very helpful.” Harrison kept on giggling.

“You didn’t know she had a boyfriend?” Max asked. Together with Bella, Paddy, and Bernie, they were eating dinner at Tony’s new restaurant. It had been open for a few weeks already and they were, with the exception of two others, the only diners there that night.

“No. No. Why, did you?” he looked up from his food. Had his best friends known and not told him?  Max didn’t respond, just raised an eyebrow to Bernie and continued eating his soup. “Oh, bloody hell. I don’t believe it. My whole life ruined because I don’t read Hello! magazine.”

“Let’s face facts. This was always a no-win situation. Y/N)’s a goddess.” Tom definitely agreed with that. “You know what happens to mortals who get involved with the gods.”

“Buggered, is it?”

“Every time.” he smiled to Tom weakly. “But don’t despair, I think I have the solution to your problems.” Tom wasn’t so sure about that.

“Really?”

Max nodded proudly, straightened the napkin on his lap and announced: “Her name is Tessa, and she works in the contracts department.” Tom laughed at the idea of a blind date. So did the rest of his friends. “The hair I admit is unfashionably frizzy. But she’s bright as a button, and kisses like a nymphomaniac on death row.” Bella stopped laughing and looked Max dead in the eyes. “Apparently.” He added quickly, too scared of his wife.

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

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@whatanight13  

[murkrees]

older brother! nct (hyung line)

Taeil

okay so

let me start with taeil

cute floofy taeil okay

taeil just gives off these warm brotherly vibes u know???

like honestly you were b l e s s e d to have moon taeil as ur bro

ever since childhood he’d just be so naturally protective over you like

it wouldn’t be overprotectiveness like a certain someone (ty track cOUGH) but it would just be so subtle

as in if you both would be on the bus he would give you the seat closer to the window and stand up while keeping an eye out for anybody who even tried to touch you the wrong way

would be the best if you needed help with your homework

didn’t understand an equation? mOON TAEIL AT YOUR SERVICE

if u ever brought friends over and he would accidentally walk out with his bed hair, oversized tee and boxers

happens way too many times is2g

he’d just stop in his tracks and stare at you all with a blush on his cheeks before whirling around on his heel and walking back to his room without a word

hES SO AWKWARD ITS PRECIOUS AAA

he wouldn’t be the type to glare daggers at a guy you brought over

he’d just stare at him while trying to calm himself down and gulp nervously, eyes shaking like they were in nct life paju during yaja time

he’d clear his throat so much and ask so many weird questions

"so how long have you been dating my sibling”

"around two months?”

"uhh, that’s great, congratulations”

he wouldn’t be super aggressive w you than he would be with the other nct members

but during christmas don’t expect him to be above shoving you outta the way to get to the presents first

moon taeil is precious protect him

Johnny

JOHNNY

MY MAN

u guys would be sibling goals af ngl

would always back down in fights cause he hated fighting w u

always always always ruffles your hair

can get aggressive sometimes but its okay you get aggressive back

would be ur no.1 supporter

have an show at school??? expect him to have front row seats while holding a handycam in his hand, cheering the loudest 4 u

fundraiser????? he’ll be standing by your booth and persuading everyone to buy your cupcakes cause let’s be real this boy has looks and enough smooth talk to churn butter

going on a date to a fancy restaurant? it’s johnny’s fashion evaluation

"wear the red dress we bought two months ago and use the pearl earrings mom gave you for your birthday”

"what are those heeeeels use the other pair woman!!! ur legs will look better”

wouldn’t be the overprotective type if you brought a guy/girl over

would try to get along as well as he could w him/her to make you comfortable

he always puts you first and makes sure you know that

Taeyong

lee taeyong!!!

real sweetheart

would b so overprotective of u and he wouldn’t even realize

if u brought a guy over he’d just make up random excuses to tail you around and “supervise”

cough cough glare at him the whole time

but halfway through he’d just kinda snap back to reality and realize how he’d been acting

and just kind of tone it down a little

ngl your friends would love going over to your house because of him lmao

you guys would just have that kind of relationship where you just completely understand and count on each other

like if you had a nightmare you’d just knock on his room door and peek in and he’s writing lyrics with only his desk lamp on

and he looks up at you with bed hair and home clothes and he sees your face

you guys don’t even exchange words before he understands you had a nightmare and you just trudge over and flop on his bed and fall asleep there as he continues to write lyrics

or if he had a particularly stressful day and he’d come home looking like shit

you’d just bring out the pillows and blankets and lay them out on the sofa with two tubs of ice cream with your favorite flavors

and he’d just plop down next to you and you’d just listen to him vent

honestly taeyong wouldn’t even be in the position he was in now if it weren’t for you

sibling support 100000000%

Yuta

this boi

probably made you cry a lot during your childhood lbr

there’d be times where he’d tease you for your pigtails

“mooooom yuta’s teasing me again!!!”

“moooooooooooooooom yuta’s teasing me again!!!!!!!!!!” (yuta’s imitation of your voice)

but as you both grew up he matured and so did u

of course there’d still be times where he’d tease you but they’d be more playful and less intense

“what are you going on, a date? who’s the unlucky guy stupid enough to go on a date with you”

“funny because the last time i checked he was in that idol group of yours”

cue yuta choking on his spit

there’d be times where you’d be cooped up in your room studying for exams

and he’d knock on your room door licking a stick of ice cream and handing another one to you while asking if you needed a break of a ride to the nearest café/starbucks for a change of scenery

or times where he’d be in a pissy mood and you made sure to give him space to cool down

but u do knock on his door and tell him quietly that you have a plate of his favorite food in the microwave

and he never answers but by the morning the plate would already be washed

brags abt u a lot to the other members (not that you would know that)

tbh i honestly think he’d be even more protective than taeyong

wouldn’t be above threatening your boyfriend if they ever hurt you

if u ever come home crying he’d go ballistic

“tELL ME WHO THE HELL I NEED TO BEAT UP ONLY I CAN MAKE MY SISTER CRY”

secretly a big softie for you no lie

Kun

the nicest older brother to ever exist

the most understanding person you’ve ever met

treats you to food all the time

never allows you to pay after

“what kind of older brother would i be if i cant even treat you for a meal??”

you go to him for advice,, like,, all the time

a great listener

went home crying after some school drama? better expect kun already there with some ice cream and blankets ready to listen to your latest emotional rollercoaster

your parents could always trust him to take care of you if they had dates or had to go out so you never had babysitters

all your friends wish they had kun as their older brother

(pretty sure some of them had crushes on him, but i mean,,,, who wouldn’t)

can be savage if he wants to but only if you poke fun at him

doesn’t look like it but can be quite playful

sometimes you’d tease him and he’d just look at you with that done-ass face

drives you everywhere!!! even accompanies you to the mall or to do some shopping

actually so touched the first time you bought him a meal with your own money

“my baby’s growing up…” sniff

“shut up this is literally a two dollar street snack”

in his eyes you’re still a little kid

love older brother kun thanks

Doyoung

ngl he’d be the type to not know how to act around you when you both were young??

“what do you want for your christmas present?? what do girls ur age like??? what do children like keep me up to date what are fedgeet speeners”

only comes out of his room to grab some food

as you both grew older he’d be more comfortable around you

before performances he would send you selcas of him to ease his preperformance nerves

tons of selcas his gallery would be filled with them tbh

“whos ur favorite brother”

“obviously me ahaha who am i kidding”

“its not gongmyung right”

“right???”

“(y/n) pls answer me”

always remembers to buy you random trinkets from his tours abroad bcs he knows how much u love them

u always go to him when you need help with your schoolwork or study but always roasts you about your grades

“what do you mean you don’t understand trigonometry its literally the easiest thing in the book”

his savage side always shows up whenever u two hang out together

“oh u like that necklace? buy it urself”

ends up buying that necklace for u anyway

showers u with gifts cause he doesn’t know how to show his affection otherwise

nags u a lot but that’s because he lovs u

(and bcos ur a mess)

“you ate dinner right?? im not accepting a ‘yes’ if you ate instant ramyeon”

“i don’t care if you have finals you are bathing at least once a day ya stinkie”

“wash those dishes piling up in your sink (y/n) gross”

be grateful for older brother doyoung keeping you in check

Ten

oof

you know he’s that one bitch

one of the most annoying™ people you’ve known growing up

kind of distant to you while you were teens because of how hectic his life is

still doesn’t exempt his love for teasing you though

i mean,,, have you seen that one picture of ten casually taking a selfie as his mom scolds his sister right beside him,,, yeah

probably the type to wake you up saying you were late for school just to record you running around the house like a madman and going out the door just to realize its 4 am on a saturday

but you grew up watching his antics so you knew what not to do when you got older

as the both of you shifted to adulthood you got closer

ended up as you taking care of him and making sure he doesn’t accidentally get in trouble most of the time

still teases you playfully though

“no ten the market is this way jesus christ get off your phone”

“oho so you do care! if you care about me that much why don’t you pay for our meal—”

“go choke”

being ten’s sibling automatically makes you friends with johnny no ifs ors buts

ten brought him along to one of your hangout sessions without telling you beforehand and now he’s just,,, there

you don’t even bat an eye at him anymore

or the other members he brings along

probably tried to set you up with johnny more than once but the both of you have already caught on and are just playing along to amuse him

automatically makes you good friends with lisa too

lowkey doesn’t want to introduce bambam to you oops

is so subtly protective of you but lbr who could get intimidated by his 169 cm ass

like that time he caught jaemin glancing your way for a tad bit too long and he just gave him the look™

never likes the guys you hang out with

“that kind of guy doesn’t deserve you (y/n),,, you need someone gentlemanly, someone nice and tall like johnny-“

“if you like him that much why don’t you date him instead”

you may have grown up but in his eyes you’re still that little girl with pigtails he used to pull

older sibling ten is annoying but you love him anyway

Jaehyun

jaehyoOons

growing up with such an attractive brother was both a blessing and a curse

sure he was attractive and that itself was a plus point but then you had to deal with all the fakies that came at you just to get closer to your dorky older brother

not to mention the countless times he accompanied you somewhere or picked you up from school and heads would just turn

it got annoying at times but then you got used to it

now you just enjoy the perks of having such an attractive brother because honestly, who wouldn’t

not to mention good lucks are hereditary lucky you ;)))

good brother,, always follows your parents instructions so if anybody ever got in trouble it was you

if you were up to mischief and he found out he always covered for you,,, no exceptions even if he didn’t approve of whatever you were doing

the little sneak got good at lying from all the times he covered for you

always ALWAYS always there to comfort you whenever you had a bad day or if you were crying

not necessarily protective but still ready to give a little “warning” to whoever messes with you

talked to you a lot ever since you were children

by a lot i mean a lot

because he’s pretty shy at school when he was younger he makes up for it by discussing alien conspiracy theories with you

now that he’s opened up more it doesn’t mean that you both don’t enjoy a good conversation about whether or not mars had living beings

whenever you both had meals together or dinner with the family there wasn’t a moment where he didn’t steal your food

“food tastes the best when it’s on another person’s plate”

rly sneaky about it but you always notice

gets angry at you if you don’t take care of yourself properly

like the time he ignored all your messages and calls for two whole days cause he found out you consecutively skipped lunch and dinner

makes sure you have your priorities straight

older brother! jae is amazing lucky you

Winwin

whatta weirdo

ever since you were children he’s always been an oddball

clings to you wherever you go

even though he’s older than you sometimes it feels like you’re the older one who has to take care of him

honestly if it weren’t for you he probably wouldn’t have survived the first 15 years of his life

not to mention the multiple times you had to guide him whenever you were in malls or in a crowded marketplace just to make sure he doesn’t get lost or distracted

would fool around with you during family gatherings

inside jokes are a thing no ifs buts ors

whenever something reminds you of that inside joke you’d just look at each other from the other side of the room and make eye contact before smirking

all your other siblings are so done with you two,,, especially your parents

like the time the both of you attempted to bake a cake for fun and eggs ended up on the ceiling

don’t ask

it took all your willpower to stop winwin from burning the place down

when you guys finished you were covered in all sorts of ingredients and spend 15 minutes laughing about it

but you got closer thanks to that!!

even though winwin should not be allowed in the kitchen or near a stove anymore sometimes when you two hang out and want to reminisce you just start baking

always ends up in a mess but you two have fun anyway

as you two grew up there wouldn’t be much that changed

he texts you random korean words or phrases just to show you how much he’s been improving

actually convinced you to take up learning korean too

you would call him and talk to him in korean to practice and he would cheer you on or correct you if you got any words wrong

lowkey doesn’t want you to meet any of the nct members except for renjun lmao

would probably try to set you up with renjun,,,, but ended up as you two being rly good friends so it was a win/win situation ha ha

has actually had to fight yuta to make sure he did not get your number

“but if winwin is this cute then how cute could his sibling be??? come on pls”

you know all his embarrassing secrets,,, and always made sure to bring it up whenever he has members over

he would whine for you to be quiet about it and stop

older sibling! winwin is too lovable u are blessed

Jungwoo

s o f t

literally the best older brother you could ask for

took care of you so much when you were children

basically coddled you

fell down in the playground and scraped your knee? expect older brother jungwoo to run around finding a bandaid before putting it on your knee as he told you to be more careful

forgot lunch? jungwoo will 420 blaze it to your classroom and hand over his lunch saying that he’ll steal some food off of his friends

had arguments with you whether or not cow was spelt with a c or a k

someone made you cry? the moment you entered the house you’d just hug him and cry to his sweater

he’d just hug you back and tell you it’s okay while caressing your head

older brother jungwoo is soFT

he probably wouldn’t change as you got older

still coddled you nonstop 24/7/365

“its going to rain today don’t forget to bring your umbrella”

“yes mom”

soccer nights are a thing and tradition to never forget or break

you always wanting to meet nct and jungwoo chuckling nervously

“(y/n),,,, im not sure that’s a very good idea,,,”

you teasing him playfully

“I saw that new meme on instagram about you,,, can you try saying ‘skorret’ again”

“dO YoU havE JunGwOOiTis?”

“(y/n) pls stop”

“you know the general public and your members seem to have the image that you’re real soft i wonder if they know about the time where you-“

“ssssssshhhhhh”

but all is good because jungwoo loves you!! and you love him back don’t forget that

[dopecoffeetimemachine]

So this will be an incredibly long blog post.

This is my story. It’s like 3 pages, so take your time to read it if you are interested. It is the reason I need people to be aware of sexism and vow to stand up against it. Please join me here and irl, my next posts will be short ;)

Hi! I started this blog, because the past few days I started to feel obligated to educate the people around me about sexism. How do you do that? And when is the right time to stand up against these kinds of situations? I decided to write about the daily sexism I experience in my life to make the situation of mankind a little bit more clearly for those who don’t (want to) see this side of life. Male, female or other, I hope we can all see the world a little bit clearer and not get discouraged, but empowered to stand up. So one day, sexism will be unfathomable to our kids. Or even ourselves.

So, first things first, what is my story? Well, my story is not like that of anyone else (or at least anyone’s I’ve heard of). One of my parents is from a family with a lot of abuse. Amongst other things, they were sexually abused from a very young age, as were their siblings. As they went on in life, each of them chose different ways of adapting to deal with the cruelties that were done to them. It now so happened that one of my parents brothers started to have some feelings for children that he didn’t want to feel. Having a kid on his lap made him feel sexually aroused, among other things. Horrified as he was by these things that he felt, but didn’t want to feel, he did the thing that makes him one of the most courageous people I know: he told my parents. He felt that the only way of making sure that he wouldn’t commit such a horrendous crime as was done to him in his youth, was to warn the people that were his closest family. He wanted to protect their children at the chance of being thrown out of the family. But my parents didn’t do that. They chose to love him as the victim he was, but at the same time never let me or my brothers alone in a room with him. We never went over to his house, never had sleepovers, we were always with our parents when he was around. They tried to give him a chance to heal from the assault he suffered, while at the same time protecting their children. They loved, but they were not naïve.

However, something went horribly wrong. You know how sometimes people say: when I was a kid for a long time I thought life was like this or that, because I didn’t understand the grownup world and I reasoned like the small kid I was and I totally misunderstood? Well, I had that, but in a funny anecdote kind of way.

Because I was a very affectionate child, my parents decided to explain to me why I couldn’t hug my uncle anymore like I used to. They said: “You know how you always hug your uncle when he comes visit us? Well, you can’t anymore, because when you do that, he feels things that (I don’t know exactly how they explained it, but my six-year-old self knew they were talking about sex).” Of course, I was shocked by this and firmly promised that I would never do that again. I mean, no six-year-old wants to be involved in anything sexual ever. After this, we never spoke about the situation again and this knowledge started its own life. You see, even though the explanation of my parents could be interpreted the way they meant it, it was very vague. What I got from it was this: 1) you shouldn’t hug men, because you will make them feel sexually aroused; 2) you are the one that should take the responsibility not to make them feel aroused. Otherwise, if something happens to you, it’s your own mistake; 3) you are not safe within your closest family or with the people you love and trust. Could my parents know that this would happen in my mind? Probably not. Should they have spoken more about this situation (more extensive, talk about it at other instances, etc.)? Maybe. But as one of them was a sexual assault survivor, it is not very hard to understand this was a tough topic to guide their children around. It still hurts, though, because it could have prevented so much pain.

Anyway, as time went by I got more and more scared of men (I think this is the one and only advantage of the very heteronormative surroundings I grew up in: I never thought women could feel sexual attraction towards a girl). Now someone who doesn’t see the sexism surrounding us might ask: why would you? They didn’t assault you now, did they? No, they didn’t. But here’s the thing: NOTHING IN SOCIETY SPOKE AGAINST THOSE ASSUMPTIONS I MADE IN MY HEAD! I was told to sit up straight, because it would be weird if I lay down on the couch on a birthday (Why? Boys can lay down? Is it too sexual?). I wasn’t supposed to wear clothes that were ‘too tight’ or ‘too revealing’. Did my clothes make me a risk for my own safety? What is wrong with the female body that I cannot show a little cleavage but my brother can wear tank tops that have armholes so wide the only thing you cannot see is his belly button – at least until he bends over? Apparently boys didn’t get raped for having a body. Why was I not allowed to bike home alone from a school dance when I was 15, but it was okay if my 12yo brother with a bowl cut (sorry bro), horrible braces and barely reaching my shoulder accompanied me home? He definitely couldn’t defend me, however much he would try (love you man), so it just had to do with the fact that I was a woman?

All these things confirming that solely being a woman was enough to be unsafe in this society and that it would be my own fault too, resulted in behavior that can only be described as distorted. As I grew up, I refused to wear my hear in any other way then pulled back. Wearing your hair down is sexual, we all know that. As soon as I started growing boobs, I started to wear shawls. The bigger, the better (the shawls I mean 😉 ). At some point I had more shawls than pants or shirts. When I was older and started to work in a supermarket, I never made eye contact with any male customers. If one of the male customers smiled at me, just being friendly, nothing weird, I felt terrible. Why did I do that? Now there was an even bigger chance he would feel like he could take me!

All this time I didn’t know this shit was shit. And I was scared of every man in my life. The only person I was not scared of was my dad (and maybe two friends). Notice that not even my brothers are on this list. I remember one time I was like 12 and me and my younger brother were having a good time, as you do as siblings between yelling how much you hate each other. He has always been a very loving sweetheart, so he wrote me a note that said: I love you sis. It scared the shit out of me. I threw it back into his room, screamed at him and locked myself in in my own room. As I grew up, I was scared of my friends, my brothers, my teachers and most of my family. And it could be that way, not only through the horrible things that were done to my parents family and the trauma that followed from that, but also through the casual sexism ever so present in society.

Around the time I was nineteen, I was lying in bed, thinking about the world as one does, and suddenly realized that none of my female friends were scared of their uncles. I had been to their birthdays and they just laughed with them, hugged them, played rough house. It started to dawn on me that my situation wasn’t the usual. Not all men were like that. And that might mean that I have been thoroughly misunderstanding a lot about life.

Realizing that this might become a huge shifting point in my life, I decided to push it away. It had to wait until the holidays I had planned with my best friends. These girls are my safe house and I knew I would need them when this was about to go down.

The first day of that week I gathered all the courage I had, not knowing if I was stupid or overreacting or actually mentally disturbed or whatever. So I told them about all my fears and how I was not sure if they were normal and what they thought about it. And they were the sweetest, most caring and loving friends I could have ever asked for, supporting me in every way. They hugged me, were understanding, cried with me as I started to realize how fucked up my mind was and how all these years of fear were for nothing. They promised me one of the most helpful things anyone had ever done for me to help me recover: I could tell them all my fears and disturbing thoughts and they told me if they were true. Now I could wave goodbye to the fear of being snatched away and raped by that man standing behind me in the crowd. I didn’t need to be afraid of making eye contact, no normal man would take that as a sign that he could have sex with you even when you’d fight him. I started to gain perspective and that helped me to discern my thoughts when I was alone, so I could keep fighting this battle in my mind. It has been a terribly hard fight, with many (mis)understanding counselors, shocked but supporting friends and many other people along the way.

And it made me think. How could I protect other girls, growing up in this world, trying to understand this big thing called life? How could I make sure they had no reason to be afraid of the loving, good men around them, thinking their safety is at risk at all times and that it would be their fault? Of course, I can’t make sure no one ever grows up in a family with victims of sexual assault.

But I can work at a world where sexism isn’t natural anymore.

No (implied) inequality, sexist jokes, different expectations and standards, no ignorance. So I will do that through this blog. It might not be read by people not actively looking for this content, but it will remind me to speak out to the people around me, and maybe it will do the same for you.

Feel free to react!

[inkfic]

Please look below for the full text of the Mistress of Flame’s letter to Windblade.

My dearest daughter,

I suppose it is time to give you the explanation you so clearly crave—not just the explanation for why I have indulged all but the worst of your brother’s excesses, but even the explanation for just how you came to be and the power you possess. Fear not, my child, you are not a product of prophecy, but you were marked by Solus to be hers from birth.

It is difficult to be a ruler and a parent. There are matters that will eat into your time with your children, no matter how pure or determined your intentions, and as a royal child, as you well know, there are expectations of behavior that are unfair for anyone else. I have striven to embrace both roles to the best of my ability, but there are times when I have come up short, especially with you. Firstborn children are often the ‘experimental’ children; there are things I learned with you so that I could be a better parent to Hot Shot and Lightbright. It is not fair to you, but there are not training classes for parenthood, especially royal parenthood. I barely saw my mother all through my growing years, and I was determined to be more of a presence in my children’s. In that, I succeeded, but for all of my intentions, I have hurt you with some of my choices and decisions, and while I cannot expect forgiveness for that, I do hope for understanding.

You were born on the spring equinox, and for the first time in a century, there was a solar eclipse just as you came into the world. Solar eclipses, as you know, are sacred to Solus, and so there was already gossip that Solus had marked you to be special in some way. The fact that you were born with the Forge’s Mark only fanned those flames. I too had been born with the mark, as had my mother, and so on through our mother’s line. Because we are the only ones that have such a tradition, naturally the assumption is that the Mark means that Solus has chosen the next Leader of Flame, but in raising you and your siblings I have to the conclusion that it means she has marked you to rule, not necessarily just Caminus.

You see, Lightbright was born with the Forge’s Mark as well, and she will be my successor.

Your father loved you deeply. He had come from the artist’s guild as the Court Glassmaker, and my mother had decided to make an alliance with the guilds by arranging our marriage. I liked him well enough, and he me, but we were not in love. He spent most of his days making glass and working with the Temple to create more and more beautiful things to highlight the glory of Solus while I learned how to rule at my mother’s elbow. I ascended the Throne of Flame when you were but two, and your father was only my consort, but he preferred it that way. It meant he could spend time with you and his glass and be content.

Then, when you were four, the First Seer came to us with a vision. You would be a great ruler, but not here, and you would leave behind a legacy of Solus that some would think that she had come again in you. At first, we were thrilled and flattered, but as the civil war in Cybertron began to get bloodier and Carcer grew more aggressive, your father grew more and more concerned for your future. Neither land was appealing to marry you to (since at the time those were the only ones we would have considered), and if you were to rule another country, we would need to have another child, and Solus was not helping us conceive.

Finally, the tension grew too much and your father snapped. Working with some of the rogue witches that had been drummed from the Temple for blasphemy, he attempted to enact a ritual that would have stripped you of all magic in an effort to change your fate. He wanted to protect you, my darling. He wanted you to be safe and happy.  Solus stepped forth and stopped him, but for the ritual to succeed, you needed to be present, and so you had to watch your father die.

I am so, so sorry for that.

I married your step-father not long after that—we had been friends and I liked him, and he was good with you. You needed to have a father, and I needed another child to rule after me if the First Seer was correct, and so it made the most logical sense. You had changed since your father’s death—you had been bubbly and extroverted with everyone you met, and it often amused me to see how easily you could charm the most stodgy of our courtiers simply by playing with your dolls and asking to meet every animal you came across, but your father’s death left noticeable traces. You were quieter and more reserved, and you preferred to stay to the places that you knew. It broke my heart, but that was also a season of Carcerian aggression, and so your needs were pushed aside for the country’s.

When I became pregnant with Hot Shot, I was forced to slow down. Unlike my pregnancy with you, his carrying was a misery and I couldn’t understand why. I was in good health, I ate good food with regularity (5 small meals instead of 3 large ones and a tea ceremony), and I walked and exercised. It was one of the most beautiful summers I could remember, but I was forced to spend most of it in bed for my confinement. You were my solace during that time. With your games and animal friends, I was entertained, and having me to yourself brought back some of the playfulness I feared you had lost forever. You were in the room when I began labor, and it went so badly that my midwives and nurses quite forgot you were there.

When it seemed that Hot Shot would be stillborn, you pushed your way between the anxious, panicking attendants and laid your hands on my belly. ‘Don’t be scared, Mama,’ you told me, and then there was a jolt. Hot Shot exited easily and though he was sickly, he was alive enough to wail his anger at the injustice of a cold world.

But what I later discovered when I had ordered his star-charts was that he had indeed been fated to die, and that death would stalk him his entire life. He is to die before his twenty-sixth birthday. He has been so much sicker than you and Lightbright--I know Lightbright got the red pox when she was only a babe, but her fire magic ensured both her survival and the fact that she did not become pockmarked and scarred. Hot Shot frequently suffered the shits, he barely managed to survive nervous fever, and if he became sick with grippe or ague, it would almost certainly turn into lung sickness. While he was younger, I did my best to keep him separated from anything that might turn into an illness, and this meant I often had to keep him from you, since even by then you had a tendency to haunt healing halls in an effort to be useful.

I do not know where his resentment sprang from. I wish I did. I wish I could have spotted it from the very beginning so I could have crushed it. It has caused the both of you--yes, the both of you--so much pain over the years. At some point, he got it into his head that you and I both thought you far better than him, and he resented us for it. Maybe because he was so much more ‘troublesome’ as a child, or perhaps because his medical needs delayed his magical development to such an extent that he never developed the power that the rest of us had. Perhaps he even thought you had more independence than he did. That would be true, but not for reasons you or he could control.

I allowed his marriage to Thunderblast to stand because I knew he would never have the opportunities you and Lightbright did, and because I felt he deserved happiness before his inevitable death. I wish he had chosen a more brilliant, more compassionate partner, but certain events have caused me to reconsider Thunderblast’s character. She is braver than I thought she was.

He has done too much ill to you for me to ask you to forgive him, but I hope--in light of these revelations--that you can consider it.

There are several reasons why I chose not to agree to the betrothal with Elita, and I hope you will understand after I tell you what they were. You see, my negotiations with Elita for the signing of the treaty took place at a very particular time--you had completed your training in the Temple three years prior but you were still working with it and visiting all corners of Caminus as part of the immediate disaster relief group, and Elita had just taken power after an incredibly bloody coup. Carcer does not have a line of inheritance established the way we do; instead, in the very heart of Vigilem, a poll is taken of one of their most sacred artifacts. Then, the result is contested. Violently. Elita was the survivor of that contestation, and she was determined--is determined--to make Carcer far more stable, politically.

To showcase that, she made the overtures for a treaty. The Northern Reach was to deemed ours without any question, an advancement against years worth of incursion, and that any Carcerians attacking Caminus through the Northern Reach would be deemed traitors. It was not a popular declaration on her side, but it opened the opportunity for peace talks.

That whole spring and summer, you were away, dealing with wildfires and disease outbreaks in the West, and I made all of the negotiations. Around the end of July and early August of that year, we had created a treaty that was fairly benign to Caminus and strides ahead to Carcer. I was confident it could be upheld, unlike previous treaties, because it asked for so little. I was preparing to send Lord Afterburner to act as my representative, but Elita demanded a royal person to be there and sign the treaty in Carcer. It was not an unusual request, but you hadn’t returned yet and I didn’t want to remove you from such a vital mission. I explained my request for a delay, and in the meantime, her representative--Lord Obsidian--began to go over the treaty with a fine-toothed comb, and he started finding little discrepancies and other issues of semantics. Those issues persisted even after you returned, until Lord Obsidian finally declared that the treaty was fine in late September.

I had suspected they were stalling, but I was unsure why. I had intended to send Lord Afterburner with you--he was the only diplomat with both military experience and Carcer experience--but his wife was having trouble with their third child and ultimately miscarried. In good conscience, I could not separate him from her at that time. In hindsight, I wish I had. It might have saved you from heartbreak.

We heard about the assassination attempt two weeks after it happened. That whole time, I was informed, you had been in Elita’s custody and she was keeping you safe, personally. I went about sending a contingent of our guards to keep you safe on your return, but the messenger hastened to tell me that Elita had requested that you stay until the group that had attempted the assassination was brought to justice, or what counted as justice to Carcer. You would be more vulnerable on the road because of the geography of the mountains, not just to potential attackers but to winter storms, and so, despite my unease, I allowed it.

I regret that now.

I believe Elita either arranged for that attempt or took advantage of it to delay your stay until the mountain passes closed. That whole winter, I heard nothing from you, and my worry grew by the day. I attempted to call you with magic, through mirrors and flame, but my attempts never got through. Still, I reasoned, the distance and Elita’s protection spells could prevent that. Her caution was legendary by that point.

When the mountain passes cleared, Elita’s first request to me was not about your departure, but rather if she could keep you--as the consort to the Liege General. I know that consorts in Caminus have very little status, but her missive (written in her own hand), promised that you would have a certain amount of power and security. If your betrothal could be included in the treaty, she said, she might be able to talk her nobles into giving us better treatment. There was just a catch--as a dowry, she wanted the Northern Reach. It had long been contested ground, and the people there were a mix of Carcerian and Camien anyway. It would be easier for Carcer to hold, and any Camiens who lived there or wanted to would be granted Carcerian citizenship.

I was appalled. The protection of the Northern Reach had been the entire point of the treaty, and now she was asking me to essentially give it away. Marriage arrangements can take years, for good reason. For her to spirit you off and then demand your hand in marriage without letting you come home was troubling and it made me angry. Still, I was cautious. By that point I had been on the throne long enough to not react on my first impulse. Then I received your letter.

You told me how much you loved her and that she had promised you two could be married and how much you were looking forward to it. Elita had allowed you to work on the filtration system for the city of Vigilem, and since you had fixed it, like you had here so long ago, deaths from rice water fever and nervous fever had gone down to nearly nothing. Elita had promised that Carcer was an entire country of projects like that, and how desperately you wanted to marry her.

Your love for her would have touched my heart, except now I saw Elita’s gambit for what it was. She had manipulated circumstances to keep you nearby, and then she had worked to make you fall in love with her. I do not know if she felt the same. Maybe she did. It did not remove the manipulation.

So I refused. Somehow that refusal took two months to get to her, and then it took another month for it to take effect. In the denial of her offer, she took the treaty off the table entirely and sent you home. You were heartbroken and despondent, like when your father had died, and for a while I grieved with you and wondered if I had made the right decision. Somehow you, more than your siblings, always bore the cost of my decisions.

Then you finally told me about it, on the eve of your departure to Eukaris, and one tiny detail confirmed that I had done the right thing. You told me that Elita loved raspberry leaf tea and served it whenever the two of you were together, to the point that you were drinking it constantly. I knew you two had been lovers, and this reveal chilled me.

I’m not certain if you ever realized it, but Elita had been trying to get you pregnant. If she had, the marriage would have been forced to go through. Somehow you didn’t get pregnant, and I think that the Mother Superior had given you a discreet contraception charm before you left. If she had not, then your life may have been very different.

I’m sorry for your heartbreak, truly. But I do not think a marriage with her would have been happy. You have been through a great deal, and so the one thing I feel you deserve is a happy marriage. It may seem odd that I would choose Starscream of all people to give you that happy marriage, but several factors were in play.

First, you were attracted to him. I will be the first to tell you that attraction alone does not make a marriage, but it helps. From what I saw--how you tended to his needs and served him at dinner--and from what I heard from others (the Mother Superior noted how easily you reached out to touch him in comfort when he was upset), I knew that you were attracted to him. Some people, like your siblings, show their attraction in typical ways, such as being tongue-tied or easily embarrassed in front of those they’re attracted. You, dear heart, show it by caring for them. Many, many times over the past few months you have shown your care for him, whether it was stitching up a cut on his forehead and falling asleep with him or tending to him in the aftermath of an internal attack. Yes, I know about those!

Second, you two work well together. I heard about your tour of the greenhouses, and he--in his own strange way--is protective of you. He was very clear about his desire to keep you out of the loop of the negotiations, not out of disrespect (which is what I initially thought), but rather, so that he could win you over on his own. I’m not certain if he’s capable of such a courtship, and Afterburner thinks he is not, but I can admire the impulse.

Third, he understands where you come from when you make decisions. I believe you are more cautious than him, which makes sense. Impulsive diplomats do not last long, and your training made it clear that rushed work is sloppy and frequently has to be redone. Better to play the slow game and do it right. He would not be someone who sends you to negotiate and then publicly goes against anything you worked out. I am not sure that you understand him, entirely, but the tragedy of war would warp the brightest minds, and you do not have that experience to fully navigate it. Tread carefully, is all I would say to that.

I do have my concerns. No partnership heading into marriage is going to be perfect, and there is always the risk that marriage will bring out the worst in you both. For what it’s worth, I think you guard yourself scrupulously enough that you would recognize if he’s influencing you badly.

He has a temper. He is not shy about showing it, but I wonder if his history with Megatron and the rest of the war taught him about when using your temper helps versus hurts. I know you are uncomfortable with displays of anger, even your own, but you must remember that not all anger means something. You two will have to negotiate safe ways for you both to display anger without it being taken as a challenge or a threat by the other. I would recommend that you find a way to control his violent impulses. I would not normally go for such spells, but he might give in to the impulse and regret it later, because his prior training informed him that was how he stayed alive but is not helpful now. Blood is helpful in that regard.

Remember, too, that good conquerors rarely make good kings. Starscream, according to our Intelligence, was not a conqueror as Megatron was. He was an excellent commander, if too brutal and ruthless for our taste, but he never--apparently--had the same taste to take the way Megatron did. He was also the first one to take the brunt of Megatron’s anger when something did not go as intended. Our Intelligence reports were very clear on that. I will see if my Intelligence chief will consent to declassifying some of that reporting to get you a copy. It may help fill in the outline he has created for himself.

He will need you to show him  what civilization looks like. I have it on good authority that Cybertron is still relying on law drafted in times of war as the primary source of law, and while that was acceptable, his betrothal to you is a marker to the rest of the world that he intends to end the detente between his people and the remaining Autobot faction. The first thing he should do is invest in creating a new law system, one with explicitly stated rights for his people. Just because Iacon is a thinly-veiled monarchy does not mean that rulers and nobles can do anything they like. That was what got Cybertron in trouble in the first place--as did that ridiculous democracy system the secular Primes created. It is better to raise someone to rule than vote someone into power who has no experience or education in what it takes to truly lead a country.

I do not mean to preach at you, dear heart. But you need to remember that despite the revoking of your secular citizenship--you will always be a princess but no longer have the legal protections of your rank--you will always be a living symbol of Caminus in Cybertron. Your behavior and your choices will always reflect on us, and so you must live up to that symbolism. You must be beyond reproach. No longer can you indulge in excessive drinking, wild or loose behavior, or gambling. Whatever charities you choose to patronize must be transparent in their goals and methodology. Whatever you choose to partake in will reflect on you and thus on Caminus. Act for our welfare when you can. You are a diplomat on permanent assignment there.

Your behavior will also reflect on your husband. Many a ruler have been moral failures, but because their spouse was morally upright, a bit of that was borrowed by them. If Starscream behaves badly, your correct behavior will soothe anxious watchers that Starscream is not that bad. It creates stability in the court.

Be wary of the people you accept in your circle. As a married lady, do not spend time with unmarried peoples in a social context without married chaperones. Do not pass clandestine letters or anything that could be construed as flirtation. Dress appropriately. It may be time to retire your hakama.

Be as apolitical as you can. Starscream can be political, and should be, but his people chose him to rule them. They expect politics from him. They did not choose you. Do not offend their political sensibilities. Whatever work you take on, be sure it benefits all. Food production, medicine, communal gardening--none of these are things that could be seen as political. Do not engage with law enforcement, the courts, or the writing of laws. At best, you will be seen as an interloper. At worst, you will be seen as a schemer who manipulates Starscream and the court to her choosing.

When you have children, be as involved with them as you can. No one would fault a mother, and their childhood goes by too quickly. When they are old enough, take them to Caminus. They should know their heritage.

The other aspect of your role as Starscream’s Lady is that you will be his hostess. Once Iacon is no longer on the edge of starvation and famine, you will entertain, and often. These occasions are excellent ways to shore up alliances and turn potential foes to your advantage, and so you must plan and prepare them accordingly. Try to find a steward who has experience in creating such events. You cannot be expected to do everything--the servants will resent you if you do--and so you must have a trusted executor. I have already begun to look for them to create recommendations for you in time, but if you could find a Cybertronian steward, that would be best.

Maintain our Camien traditions as best you can. No matter what you do, you will always be seen as a foreigner, and though you may be tempted to do your best to assimilate, the people will see your difference as clear as your tattoos, and so there is nothing to be gained by abandoning your traditions. Raise your children to speak our tongue and read it, and teach them the rites of Solus. You are our representative. Maintain what you can.

Please forgive your sister. She thought she was acting in your interest, and it has hurt her deeply that you did not believe her. The longer you maintain your silence against her, the more it will take to repair the relationship, and you cannot afford to ostracize her forever.

Your loving mother

[clonerightsagenda]

Posting Gill’s bday fic over here with permission. It’s Rosemary-related and TLC compliant (with a couple of minor spoilers) but should be understandable even with no knowledge of the AU.

This is what you have learned from dating Rose Lalonde. Expect any room to fill up with clutter in her presence. Your attempts to keep things tidy are as effective as holding back the tide. Expect everything to take on the feel of an epic, like you might be summoned onto a world-altering quest at a moment’s notice. It’s like a human fairy tale, but the old kind, not remakes that are all glitter and talking animals. The stories with teeth.

Don’t expect her to say that she loves you.

Don’t take it personally either. That’s what you remind yourself. Rose resists sincerity. When you presented her with the first flowers you’d grown in the new greenhouse (roses; you’d been delighted to learn she’d been named for a flower), she’d laughed uncertainly like you’d unlocked an event she didn’t have a script for. Over the next week, as the blooms withered, they moved around. First you spotted them on the windowsill, then on her bedside table, in this vase or that one, like she couldn’t figure out what place they had in her life.

On the Land of Rays and Frogs, you encountered a puzzle path made of colored lily pads. If you stepped on the wrong one, it would buckle and deposit you in a mini-boss chamber before you returned to the start, weary and wiser. Navigating this relationship feels much the same. Some of your missteps now are the inevitable outcome of two species still learning about each other, but not all of them. After reading Rose’s walkthrough, you’d daydreamed of meeting its author. Now you think you need a walkthrough for her too.

The day after your tumultuous first date, Rose dumped her concoctions down the drain, saying she could embarrass herself perfectly well without the aid of depressants. Not even a week later, she set the equipment up again.

“It might come in handy for medicinal purposes,” she said when you asked her why she’d changed her mind. “Besides, it wasn’t all bad.” She winked. “We got some mileage out of it.”

You blushed, and your rainbow drinker glow briefly flared before you wrestled it under control again. In the first few weeks you hadn’t known how the rules changed when you moved from unofficial to official. Where did you put your eyes, or your hands? What were you allowed to say? “It did make you more forward.”

She laughed, and from the sharpness on her breath you realized she’d already been sampling her experiments. “I can be so fucking uptight sometimes. Maybe we all need to lighten up. Lighten up. Get it?”

“I get it,” you said. But you didn’t.

So you sought clarification from Dave. After you quested through the meteor, lipstick at the ready in case of clown sightings, you found him topside staring back the way you’d come. At the beginning of your journey, you’d taken turns stationing yourselves there, afraid Jack would catch up and resume his rampage when you least expected it. When he didn’t make an appearance, you’d all let your guards down, reducing sentry duty to a quick backward glance now and then. Was he keeping watch for Lord English now?

“Are you watching for Jack?” you asked.

He jumped and tried to cover it with a miniscule adjustment to his cape. “Nah. Watching Skeletor blast everyone to bits.”

“You and Rose have been up here a lot recently.”

“We both came up after the first killing, you know? It was so loud.” He rubbed at his eyes underneath his shades. His skin is a few shades lighter than his sibling’s, and you could see shadows there. “It’s been hard to sleep since then. At least she’s found a way to conk out.”

“About her newfound use of soporifics.” You hesitated, staring up at the flashing lights that were already becoming familiar. It’s amazing how fast you accustom yourselves to the unthinkable. “Is that normal for humans?”

He frowned. (Later, he’d tell you he hadn’t been sure how to respond. “I didn’t want to fuck it up for you two,” he said. “I didn’t think it’d get that bad.”) “Hard to say what’s normal in our situation. Guess a lot of people would pull out a bottle after everything we’ve gone through. Better than sticking a forty-five in your mouth. She’s always been extreme about reacting to things. It’s hard to believe we’re the same damn species sometimes, let alone siblings.”

“I didn’t think an outing with me is so terrible you have to be out of your wits to enjoy it.” You didn’t mean to sound petulant, but his eyebrows rose.

“She doesn’t mean it like that.”

“I thought you didn’t understand her.”

“It would take an institutional thinktank to really figure her out, but I do a little.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. He does that when he’s being serious sometimes. “I think the whole thing freaked her out. Freaks her out, present tense, if you’re officially an item now. Congrats, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

Another spiderweb of cracks blossomed above your heads. You could see them reflected in Dave’s shades as he said, “I don’t think she trusts anyone being nice to her 100%, that’s all. Not even me.”

Rose has been clean for months now in human terms. You both have. The first few weeks of your victory were spent dealing with the effects of abandoning your substances of choice. You stumbled around feeling as if you’d been dipped in concrete, your movements and thoughts slow and ponderous. Rose went days without sleep and flinched away from things the rest of you couldn’t see. Roxy warned you of what to expect, since she’d gone through the process before. She’s also the one who told you to remind Rose to eat. “She’s not gonna want to,” she said. “You feel gross all over and the last thing you want to do is stick more shit in your body, but if you don’t eat you’ll just feel crummier.”

You’d noticed her drinking her meals before, but you’d never brought it up beyond meaningful glances or the pointed placement of foodstuffs in her respiteblock. Rose has always been good at dodging questions. “Do you have any suggestions for a strategic approach? She’ll try to deflect me with witticisms. Her barbs are floppy at the edges right now, but my defenses are equally compromised.”

“That’s a cute way of saying you’re both fucked up.” Roxy shrugged. “I can’t beat her in a war of words, and I wouldn’t try. My advice? Sit on her and force feed her Saltines while telling her it’s for her own good.”

You had been skipping meals yourself. Even after eating normal food, you still felt hungry. Your system wanted something else to satisfy it, so what was the point? Rose latched on to that hypocrisy when you tried to nag her, so you’d end up sitting across the table from each other with plates of leftovers cold from the fridge, matching each other mouthful for mouthful. Whatever worked.

The worst of that is past now. But sometimes she still behaves in ways that make you wonder if after all these sweeps she really trusts you.

-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] -- GA: Jade GA: Shes Doing It Again GG: whos doing what? :o GA: You Know Who GA: Who Else Do I Come To You In Search Of Explanations For Their Inexplicable Habits GA: Show Some Space Player Solidarity Here GA: There Are So Few Of Us Who View Common Sense As Part Of A Complete Breakfast GG: for everyone else its an optional granola to sprinkle on top GA: The Recipe Said Season To Taste And Im Afraid Theres A Serious Lack Of That In The Premises GA: Ok Can We Cut The Extended Cooking Metaphor Out GG: yeah, it was getting a little meanspirited GA: That Too I Guess Mostly I Didnt Want To Get Stuck Exchanging Culinary Puns GG: ok, what terrible thing is rose doing now GA: She Has Locked Herself In Her Room And Has Been Listening To Her Playlist Designated For Angst For Three Hours GG: lol GG: that behavior cannot stand! GG: except it sort of can, since we all have a right to privacy GG: even if we exercise that right by listening to sad music all day GG: these things cannot be revoked for bad taste GA: Actually Most Of It Has Been Pretty Good GA: Filtering Through The Door Gives It Nice Acoustics GG: maybe you need to give her some... space :D :D :D GA: I Just Want To Know What Upset Her GA: She Says It Wasnt Me But I Dont Know If That Means It Wasnt Me Or It Was Me And I Am Expected To Work That Out On My Own GA: A Reassessment Of The Past Few Days Activities Hasnt Turned Up Anything Suspicious GG: i cant think of anything that might have upset her... GG: ohhhhhhhhhh GG: i think its her moms birthday GG: that might be it GA: How Did You Know GA: Is That Supposed To Be Common Knowledge GG: she complained one time about having to go to a fancy dinner GG: something thrown by her moms colleagues i think??? GG: her mom made her dress up in something frilly, she said she felt like an american girl doll GG: to be honest she sent a picture and i thought it was a cute dress!! GG: definitely not her style though GA: Im Impressed You Remember GG: i try to keep track of these things GG: it was nice hearing about everyones lives, i always wished I could do things like that GG: tell me your lususes birthday, i will put it in my calendar GA: I Never Knew It GA: I Wish Shed Told Me GA: Rose I Mean I Dont Think Wriggling Days Are Important For Virgin Mothergrubs GG: dont take it personally GG: she does it to all of us, and youre her girlfriend so she has to be EXTRA secretive about terrible and compromising things like emotions GA: That Logic Sounds Backward GG: the human mind is a complicated maze of mystery kanaya GA: Sounds Mysterious GG: it is GG: she probably doesnt realize its stressing you out, i know shes trying to be better about that kind of thing GG: you know, COMMUNICATION!! D: GA: No Please Anything But That GG: the achilles heel of our entire household GG: i can bug her if you want GA: No Thats Ok GA: Mostly I Wanted To Make Sure I Hadnt Caused This And Needed To Resolve It GA: If She Wants To Grieve By Herself I Understand GG: if shes still in there by dinner well root her out! GG: there is a limit to how many sad songs are good for your soul GA: Ok GA: In The Meantime Do You Have Any Work That Needs Doing In The Greenhouse GA: Id Like To Keep My Hands Busy GG: theres some stuff that needs deadheading on table three GG: do you want company? GA: No Thats Fine GA: Ill Talk To You Later GG: sure thing! -- ¬¬grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] -- GA: Im Sorry About Your Mother TT: Who told you about that? GA: Jade TT: Figures. TT: Lousy goddamn supportive friends. GA: She Has Said She Will Flush You Out If You Dont Come Down To Dinner GA: Do You Feel Up To It GA: Otherwise I Can Convince Her To Leave You Be GA: She Is Easily Distracted From Her Resolutions If You Know How To Play Your Gaming Rectangles Right TT: No, I'll be there. TT: What time is it? GA: Half Past Five So No Rush GA: Im Still Gardening And Havent Washed Up TT: It might take me that long to get presentable. GA: Was Her Wriggling Day Important To You GA: I Admit The Concept Is New To Me GA: What With Our Ancestors Being So Far Removed From Our Lives And Our Guardians Being Literal Fauna Who Did Not Celebrate Notable Dates TT: It’s probably not even her real birthday. TT: We were all created on the same day, and I doubt anyone was on hand to record when her meteor touched down. TT: She must have picked a day she liked. TT: We used to give each other over-the-top gifts every year. TT: I thought she was being passive aggressive, so I reciprocated in turn. TT: The last year, I thought about getting her a bedazzled martini glass, but I didn’t get around to it. TT: Thank god. TT: I can only hope she interpreted my gestures as sincere as readily as I interpreted hers as sarcastic. TT: Otherwise she must have thought I was the worst daughter imaginable. GA: Im Sure She Didnt Think That TT: I wish I’d given her something better. TT: Something genuine. GA: I Was Working On A New Hat For Nepeta During The Game GA: I Got Some Monster Slime On Her Old One With A Sloppy Chainsaw Maneuver And Even Though She Said It Wasnt The First Time I Wanted To Make It Up To Her GA: And Help At Least One Of My Teammates Diversify Their Wardrobe TT: There’s always an ulterior motive, isn’t there? GA: You Tell Me GA: You Are The Expert In Decoding The Nefarious Meaning Hidden Within Every Exchange Of Pleasantries TT: It’s a secret code, Kanaya. TT: The sixth grader who tossed the newspaper into our yard this morning is working with the KGB. That’s what "Good morning" meant. This is well established in spy manuals. GA: My Knowledge Of Human Subterfuge Is Always Expanding GA: The Hat Was Supposed To Be A Surprise GA: Then I Found It In A Treasure Chest Not Long Into Our Journey GA: Theyre Gone And You Know That But Then You Find Something That Reminds You GA: Oh GA: Ill Never Give Her That Will I TT: I don’t know what I would’ve done if we’d lost anyone from our session. TT: Well, I do know. I have memories from a timeline where we lost half. TT: It wasn’t pretty. TT: I know in a lot of ways we got lucky. GA: Its Not A Contest GA: You Dont Have To Have Had It Worst To Feel Bad TT: I know. TT: But it’s hard. GA: See Look At Us Talking About Our Emotions Isnt That Nice GA: A Horrible Kind Of Nice TT: Or a nice kind of horrible. TT: Either or. GA: The Juxtaposition Is Key TT: I didn't mean to shut you out. GA: I Know You Need Privacy Sometimes GA: I Would Just Prefer To Know Whats Going On So I Dont Have To Worry About Whats Wrong GA: And You Know You Can Talk To Me TT: I know. Intellectually. TT: Is it weird I can trust you all with my life but not always with my feelings? GA: Kind Of GA: But I Get It GA: Were All Weird About Some Things TT: I'm trying to do better. And I'll let you know next time I need to indulge in a three-hour sad jams session so you won't worry. TT: Maybe after I've run through my playlist, we can even talk about it. GA: We Can Sit Awkwardly At A Table Waiting For The Other One To Break The Silence First TT: A tradition. GA: Also I Should Let You Know Its Stir Fry Night TT: Really? TT: You should have led with that. TT: Save me a seat.

As time passes, you all improve with hesitant steps that sometimes send you sliding back, sometimes not. Rose throws herself into her walkthrough, which she plans to distribute to anyone else caught up in SGRUB’s gears. Everyone is on consultant duty to flesh out areas of personal expertise. You, however, are her co-editor, a position of special privilege.

Rose views the work as one more way to help whatever players come after you. Your motivation is less selfless. Once, several sweeps and universes ago, an alien’s words found you and gave you something to hang on to. Somewhere, in a distant galaxy, someone else is being forced to play this game. Maybe your words can reach them, like Rose’s reached you. Working on the walkthrough now lets you build something together in a way that she won’t dismiss as sappy and overdone, a love letter for the universe.

That doesn’t mean you don’t run into difficulties, of course.

TT: Have you had a chance to look over the Prospit chapter? GA: Oh Uh GA: Ive Seen It TT: Did you have any feedback? TT: I'm going to ask Jade too, but I thought I'd give you the first shot. GA: Um GA: I Dont Know TT: Was it that off-base? TT: I know I'm a Derse dreamer, but I tried to be thorough. GA: Its More The Tone GA: You Wrote That Prospit May Look Friendlier But Should Still Be Viewed As An Antagonist Because It Has Ulterior Motives GA: And Maybe Thats True Especially About The Clouds GA: But My Time On The Moon Was The Brighter Portion Of My Childhood GA: And The People Of Prospit Were Always Kind To Me GA: So I Guess The Framing Made Those Memories Feel Kind Of GA: Threatened TT: Oh. GA: It Isnt A Logical Reaction TT: What do you think I should change? GA: I Dont Know GA: Maybe Nothing GA: Youre The Expert Here I Know Im Biased Toward My Moon Whatever Systems It Might Be Part Of GA: We All Take That View About Some Parts Of Our Youth Dont We GA: Even If It Was Part Of Something Bad We Remember The Good Moments GA: We Hold On To The Small Kindnesses TT: …Yeah. GA: You Can Disregard That Feedback GA: Youre The One With Writing Expertise And A Clear Goal In Mind GA: I Dont Really Know What Im Doing GA: Youre Better At This TT: I’m really not. TT: I just put on a more convincing show. TT: Don’t dismiss yourself. You have expertise in areas I don’t. GA: I Guess Im Not As Used To Putting Myself Out There TT: You can come up with a clever pen name. TT: There’s a tradition of vampires spelling their names backward. GA: Im Reformed TT: An anagram then, maybe. TT: Jokes aside, this is a collaborative project. We’ve got a Google doc and everything. TT: I don't want to intergalactically publish anything you're not comfortable with. TT: How about a revision session this evening? I'll bring Lofthouse cookies. GA: The Ones That Are Just Discs Of Sugar And Flour TT: With nary a redeeming nutritional quality in sight. TT: Keep that quiet, though. Jane would kill me if she knew I was smuggling them into the house. GA: Sounds Great Ill Be There

Rose’s typical drafting position is on her stomach with her laptop propped up on the pillow. You prefer to stretch your legs out with your back up against the wall. Thermoses of tea balance precariously between the two of you on the mattress.

“There’s been a lot of activity on the kernelsprite document,” Rose says, flicking through the pages. “Apparently Hal listed “100 advantages of being prototyped” and Dirk replaced it with “Most of this list is either illegal or immoral.” I’m turning track changes on to see what they were.”

You tap your fingers idly on the keys while your own husktop buffers. “Anything good?”

“Get away with murder,” she reads. “That’s cliché, you don’t even have to be a sprite for that. I think he just put it in there to be edgy. He’s trying so hard; you have to respect that. It’s like when I started buying black makeup to try to spite my mother.” She scrolls down further. “Oh, here’s a good one. Clip through the floor.”

“I’ve seen John do it. He’s not as original as he thinks he is.” You peer at her screen. “Eat your enemy’s phone. I’ll give him points for one. It’s not feasible for most mortals.”

Rose reaches across your legs for another cookie. “Sure, if you’re a coward.”

“I’ll accept that designation if it means avoiding a mouthful of circuitry.”

She chews thoughtfully and then flicks a sprinkle off onto the carpet. At least you’re in her room. Still, you feel a compulsion to pick it up. “About what you were saying earlier. I don’t want to contribute to any lingering insecurities.”

The change of topics catches you off guard. “They’re milling around in the lobby, but I’m not letting them upstairs.” You shrug, your shoulders sliding up the wall. “As we’ve been reminding each other, we can’t fix everything about ourselves immediately. I’m more confident than I used to be. I didn’t let Jake talk me into that routine with the glitter.”

“Shame.” She frowns at you, an expression diluted somewhat by a rim of frosting on her upper lip. “I’m not commandeering this project too much, am I? It’s nice to have something to be enthusiastic about again, but maybe I’m getting carried away.”

“No, you’re being very accommodating.” You squirm, smoothing out inconsequential creases in your skirt. Sometimes feelings don’t make sense. But once Rose decides she wants to talk about them, she tries to pin them to the page and dissect them. She does it because she wants to understand and help, the same way she wants to reverse engineer SBURB with words to assist players who come after. That doesn’t make the process any more pleasant when you’re the one on the operating table. “The problem is on my end, in the concern lobby. The lurking insecurities have been taking numbers for a while, and the counter is only up to twelve.”

“Like Inside Out crossed with a DMV? Hellish.” Rose picks up a pen and rolls it between her fingers. She likes to draft things longhand first sometimes. “I remember back on the last day of the game, you said you thought everyone burned brighter than you. You must’ve realized by now that my “burning brighter” is mostly because I have a habit of setting myself on fire.”

You’ll admit you’d been starstruck by the walkthrough’s mysterious author. It had been nice to harbor a new secret crush once Vriska was a lost cause. And you’d first met Rose face to face as a newly risen goddess bathed in the luminescence of the Green Sun. She’d seemed ethereal and beyond you.

Then, after the first few hours of sorting out living arrangements and watching Karkat roam around yelling for Gamzee to give the bodies back, she’d announced she was going to “sleep for a fucking week” and faceplanted into the nearest rug. Dave didn’t help beyond alchemizing some safety cones and setting them up around her. That had helped a little. So had seeing what her hair looks like in the mornings. “If you’re worried I have some unattainable vision of you set on a mental altar, rest easy. But you did restructure the multiverse with nothing but nerve, so I might still want your autograph a little.”

Rose brandishes the pen. “Only on the condition I get to sign your bra.” When you wave her away, she drops it on the pillow. “Spearheading the multiverse operation is one of my prouder accomplishments, I’ll admit, but my violet-tinged authorial prowess is entirely due to thinking I was hot shit as a pre-teen on the Internet. Besides, if we’re talking bragging rights, you fixed reality. Not to mention put up with us idiots for three years.”

“That was a struggle.” At times you’d wondered if you were the only one on the meteor keeping ahold of your wits. “Remember when the ceiling panels gave way and Gamzee fell onto the table?”

“Not our best group dinner. But you see, I’m a mess. You’re the one who has her act together.”

You frown. Being praised for your stability is a sore spot of yours. Yes, you’d been the one to bear everyone else’s struggles. That doesn’t mean you liked it. “I had to. Someone did. It got tiring after a while, though.”

Rose winces. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. You shouldn’t have had to. But it is impressive that you did.”

“You were sick,” you say, in response to her apology.

You see her shoulder blades rise and fall in a muted shrug. “I know. But that doesn’t mean you should have had to deal with it.”

“I guess…” Maybe you’re the one who’s prompted her to speak up, but you struggle with your words too. Troll culture teaches you that open exchanges of feelings are for moirails. Palemates are the only people you can trust the depths of your soul to, if you can truly trust anyone at all. Humans don’t compartmentalize in the same way. You can see the benefits of that system, but you still fear saying the wrong thing will push her away. “You undercut yourself to tell me I’m better than I think I am. But if I’m already worried about measuring up to some standard, that just pushes us both lower. Do you see what I mean?”

“The self-deprecation’s not cute. Got it.” She twists around in what is probably some kind of advanced yoga pose to look you in the eye. “But you shouldn’t undersell yourself either, ok?”

When she doesn’t break eye contact, you nod reluctantly. “This is a very affirming argument we’re having.”

She reaches over and prods you with the pen. “I’m channeling Jake. Believe in yourself.”

You smile. “It’s hard to resist, these days.”

When you’re done for the evening, Rose captchalogues her laptop and you troop out. Everyone has their own room, but all of you tend to spend more of your nights in the common area curled up in armchairs or slumped over each other on sofas, within easy sight of each other when you wake from bad dreams. After a few weeks of intentionally lingering there until you fell asleep, you made it official and filled the whole room with soft materials like a huge communal pile. Terezi even taped up democratically-determined regulations. Rose spends some nights curled up next to you with her face shoved so close against your neck you wonder how she can breathe. Sometimes, though, she retreats to a corner with a pillow at her back like a wall. You know not to approach her then.

Tonight, she finds an empty patch of floor and drops down on it. You lower yourself next to her.

“Are you happy with the chapter now?” she asks.

“I’d like to give it another pass tomorrow, but it’s much better.”

“And everything else?”

“That’s better too.”

“Good.” She gives you a peck on the lips and, when Terezi wolfwhistles, flips her the bird and kisses you for real. You kiss her back, until… You pull away.

“Are you wearing my lip balm?”

“Maybe.” She purses the lips in question. “It’s got a good flavor.”

“I was wondering where that went. You know, you could have just asked to borrow it.” Grudgingly, anyway. She has a terrible habit of licking the stuff off and then reapplying it to start the cycle anew.

Rose raises an eyebrow. “You offered to do my laundry so you could steal my favorite shirt.”

You think, with only a modicum of guilt, of the shirt you have stashed behind the laundry basket in your closet. “It’s very soft.”

“I’m never getting that back, am I?”

“Probably not.”

She sticks her tongue out at you and pulls a blanket over her shoulders. “Night.”

“Good night,” you say. That’s the only endearment you exchange.

-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] -- GA: Karkat GA: Karkat Answer Your Phone I Know You Can See This GA: Youre Looking At It Right Now CG: YEAH I SURE AM. CG: I'M STARING AT THIS MARVELOUS HUNK OF PLASTIC AND ELECTRICITY IN MY HANDS AND REFLECTING ON HOW IT GRANTS US THE ABILITY TO COMMUNICATE WITH EACH OTHER FROM ANY DISTANCE. CG: SUCH AS, FOR EXAMPLE, EIGHT FUCKING FEET AWAY. GA: This Is Private CG: I DIDN'T KNOW WE HAD A CONCEPT OF PRIVACY ANYMORE. CG: COLOR ME SURPRISED, SO SOME THINGS ABOUT OUR LIVES *AREN’T* SUPPOSED TO BE COMMON KNOWLEDGE? GA: It Might Help If You Spoke With Any Kind Of Discretion Or Volume Control CG: NOT AN OPTION. CG: CARRY ON. GA: Youve Watched A Lot Of Human Romances GA: What Is The Appropriate Interval Before Affirmations Of Matespritship Are Exchanged GA: You Know Like GA: Uh CG: "I LOVE YOU"? GA: Yes That CG: THE FIRST STEP IS BEING ABLE TO TYPE IT INTO A PRIVATE CHAT SESSION WITHOUT BLUSHING. CG: I CAN SEE YOU OVER THERE. GA: Dammit GA: What Is The Waiting Period Here Like Three Sweeps CG: SO I GUESS SHE HASN'T DONE IT YET? GA: Well GA: Not Sober GA: She Was Quite Eager To Confess Admiration While On Soporifics GA: To Everyone And Everything Including Inanimate Objects GA: Im Not Sure Such Exchanges No Matter How Heartfelt Can Be Considered Fully Genuine CG: YOU'RE IN LUCK, A LOT OF HUMAN FILMS COVER THIS IN DEPTH. CG: IF YOU WANT I CAN ARRANGE A VIEWING SESSION WITH SOME MORE INFORMATIVE SELECTIONS. GA: That Might Be Fun GA: But Mostly I Would Appreciate Some Friendly Advice GA: As Educational As Im Sure The Latest Work Starring Anne Hathaway Would Be CG: AN EXECUTIVE SUMMARY IS: CG: IT USUALLY DOESN’T TAKE THIS LONG. CG: BUT THE CHARACTERS INVOLVED ARE OLDER, THE SAME SPECIES, AND HAVEN’T BEEN THROUGH A WAR, SO IT’S NOT A REPRESENTATIVE SAMPLE. CG: ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT IT? GA: Not Exactly GA: I Know The Sentiment Is There GA: If Anything I Just Hope She Feels Comfortable Enough She Knows She Can Be Open With Me GA: Shes Trying But I Can Tell Its Still Difficult For Her CG: DAVE SAYS "its obvious shes crazy about you" SO NO WORRIES THERE. GA: Why Is Dave Part Of This Conversation CG: HE WALKED OVER AND LOOKED AT MY PHONE OVER THE BACK OF THE SOFA. CG: LIKE I SAID. PRIVACY = ZERO GA: Hi Dave CG: HE SAYS HI. GA: I Saw Him Wave GA: Now Tell Him To Go Away CG: AND HE’S GONE. CG: THE CHAT IS CLEAR OF FUTURE BROTHERS-IN-LAW. GA: Future What CG: THAT’S WHAT YOU’LL BE IF YOU AND ROSE GET "HUMAN MARRIED". CG: THE RITUAL MAKES YOU FAMILY WITH THEIR ENTIRE FAMILY. CG: I’M PRETTY SURE IT WAS HISTORICALLY DESIGNED TO ACQUIRE ECONOMIC AND POLITICAL ADVANTAGES. CG: YOU KNOW, KIND OF LIKE HOW INTERCASTE MOIRALLEGIANCES CAN AFFORD LOWER CASTES PROTECTION. CG: BUT IN MODERN TIMES MOSTLY IT MEANS YOU’RE STUCK WITH THOSE CHUCKLEFUCKS FOR LIFE AS A PACKAGE DEAL. GA: Oh No CG: OH YES. GA: Karkat I May Be Rethinking This Whole Venture CG: TOO LATE, I’M GOING TO BE YOUR BEST MAN. IT’S ALREADY DECIDED. GA: What Is A Best Man GA: Is It Whoever I Have Designated If I Were For Some Reason Obligated To Wed Someone Of That Gender CG: NO. CG: THE MOVIES AREN’T ENTIRELY CLEAR ABOUT THEIR ROLE, BUT IN GENERAL THEY GIVE HEARTFELT SPEECHES AND PROVIDE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT. GA: Maybe I Want Jake To Be My Best Man GA: He Can Recite Touching Monologues Ripped From The Silver Screen CG: YOU HAVE NO SAY IN THIS WHATSOEVER. CG: (YOU KNOW I’M JOKING, RIGHT?) GA: I Figured GA: Although I Wouldn’t Put It Past You To Try To Plan That Kind Of Thing Out For Me CG: HEY IF YOU EVER WANT IDEAS, I CAN THROW SOME OUT THERE. CG: YOU’RE WAY TOO YOUNG FOR THAT KIND OF THING THOUGH. CG: AND WE STILL HAVE TO GET YOU FROM POINT A TO POINT B, WHICH INVOLVES TRAVERSING THE ROCKY TERRAIN OF EMOTIONAL HONESTY, WITH WHICH I HAVE HAD NO PAST PROBLEMS AT ALL. CG: YOU COULD ALWAYS SAY IT FIRST YOURSELF I GUESS. CG: UNLESS YOU THINK THAT’LL MAKE HER EVEN MORE NERVOUS? GA: It Might GA: Outright Displays Of Emotion Embarrass Her She Relates It Too Much To Her Drunken Excesses And Those Of Her Mother GA: If I Can Be Permitted To Psychoanalyze Here GA: Shes Admitted As Much CG: THEN… LET HER KNOW SHE CAN FEEL COMFORTABLE? CG: THAT DOESN’T SOUND VERY EXCITING, BUT MAYBE IT DOESN’T HAVE TO. CG: THEY MAKE A BIG DEAL OUT OF IT IN THE MOVIES BUT I THINK AS LONG AS YOU’RE BOTH ON THE SAME PAGE WHETHER THOSE THREE EXACT WORDS HAVE ESCAPED YOUR QUIVERING CHUTE FLAPS DOESN’T MATTER ALL THAT MUCH. CG: THERE ARE OTHER WAYS TO SHOW YOU CARE. I’M PRETTY SURE YOU’VE GOT THAT COVERED. CG: MOVIES AREN’T ALWAYS THAT REALISTIC ABOUT WHICH PARTS OF A RELATIONSHIP ARE A FEDERAL FUCKING ISSUE VERSUS WHICH PARTS ARE NEGOTIABLE. GA: !! CG: YEAH YEAH RUB IT IN. CG: SO I RELIED ON THEM A LOT, IT’S NOT LIKE I HAD MUCH PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. GA: I Shouldnt Criticize This Was Helpful GA: Thanks For Listening GA: And I Would Like To Watch Movies With You Sometime If That Offer Is Still On The Table CG: DEFINITELY. CG: I’LL LET YOU KNOW WHEN I’VE GOT A GOOD LINEUP PULLED TOGETHER.

A few days later, Rose wanders into your room unannounced and flops onto the bed. This isn’t uncommon behavior, so you keep sorting through your clean laundry. Her cat behaves similarly, insinuating himself into a room as if he belongs there. It’s a lazy confidence you envy. “We should go out,” she says, directing her words at the ceiling.

“We should?” you ask, holding two socks up to see if they match. They don’t, exactly, but they are a pair. Rose knitted them for you herself. They’re lumpy and awkwardly shaped, and you treasure them.

“We were going to do something fun after the game, remember? That was the plan. But we've both been sick, and outside is...” Rose waves toward the window and the world it serves as a barrier against. “Outside, so we haven't gotten around to it. But we should. You’ve been in your room a lot. It’ll do us both good.”

Drat. Your downturns aren’t as explosive as the others’. Sometimes you simply withdraw, spending more time on your own while a mental screen descends between you and the world, distorting it like a blur filter. There’s nothing wrong with you, exactly; it’s just that you don’t have the energy. That’s not bad, right? There are worse things than numbness. “What were you thinking we could do?”

She sits up halfway and then flops back down again. The pillows bounce. “I was hoping you'd have some ideas.”

You twist the socks together and toss them into the appropriate drawer. “The only thing I remember suggesting was outfits without sleeves.”

“Compelling, but not really something to make a date out of.” Rose frowns. “Have we ever... had a normal date? By regular people's standards?”

“Troll or human?” You shake your head. “I don't think any species would give us a passing grade.”

“Earthworms might be impressed.”

You pout. “You've never taken me to any good plots of soil.”

“We'll do that next time. For now, Jane said someone needs to do the shopping.”

“You know how to sweep me off my feet.”

Rose, still prone, waves a list in your direction. “It'll be fun. We get to pick which flavor of potato chips we want, and everyone else has to live with it.”

If Alternia had anything like supermarkets, they hadn’t spread near your oasis. For all that your caste can stand the sun, the electric lights hurt your eyes. They’re too bright – a harsh white that makes all the bright colors look flat and artificial. You reach for Rose’s hand, and she squeezes it. “I appreciate the support,” you say, “but I wanted to see the list.”

“Oh. Right.” She brings it up for both of you to consult. “Does Jade know how expensive beef is? She’s really running us through it.”

“She’s been talking about growing vegetables for the household. It’s too bad she can’t raise her own cows.”

“Don’t give her ideas. She wouldn’t be able to bring herself to butcher them, not after we’d named them all.” Rose leads you to the back of the store and scoops up slabs of meat packed into tidy foam and plastic containers. The setup is so clinical your residual rainbow drinker instincts don’t even twitch. It’s a far cry from the Alternian pastime of slicing your dinner up while it’s still wriggling. “We need milk,” she begins, and trails off after she pivots to the left. “It was that way in my old store. But they must not follow a common plan.”

Rose looks unmoored now that her navigational confidence has been broken. A lot of the humans are like this, wavering when their world doesn’t behave the way they think it should. It’s almost easier for those of you who expect foreign ways and customs. It’s harder to be a stranger in your own home. “We’ll wander,” you say, and steer her firmly by the shoulder.

By a combination of trial and error and studying signage like relics of a lost civilization, you manage to gather everything on the list. The only problem comes when you pass a series of shelves stacked with bottles, and Rose stiffens. It takes a moment for the pieces to fall into place – you’ve never seen wine packaged in its original containers before.

”Come on,” you say, linking your arm with hers. “Help me test which limes are ripest.”

You have to tug for a moment before she comes with you. You don’t think she’s planning to make a running leap for the vintage. If anything, she looks like she does when there’s an enemy sighted, wary and ready to spring. If she destroys several wine racks with a blast of divine light, that’ll probably go on your bill.

”Sorry,” she says, once you’ve made it to the produce section. “At my old store, it was in a separate room. Not out in the open.”

You lean toward her a little, so your shoulders press together. “It took you by surprise.”

She leans back. “Like pulling down your sheets and seeing a spider in your bed.” You see a dot of blood on her lower lip. She must have bitten it. “It must be harder for you. There’s no getting away from all that blood walking around on two legs.”

”It’s easier not to slip up, though.” You reach over with your free hand and dab at her cut, wiping the smear on the side of your shirt. “They’d make a fuss if I tried to sample it.”

”That’s what recovering alcoholics need.” She swipes at her mouth herself, but the wound is already closing. “Wine bottles that scream when you open them.”

”You’ve uncovered a new industry.”

”I need to patent it immediately.”

You squeeze her arm before letting go. If she’s making jokes, that’s a good sign.

Rose perks up when you’re heading toward the checkout. “Hang on. We have to stop by the natural foods section.”

”We do?” You check the list again. There’s nothing left on it.

”You never know,” she says. Now it’s her turn to drag you along. “The cure to all our life’s problems might be hiding next to the apricot kernels.”

Her tone is mocking. “Is there something wrong with natural products?”

”Not on their own. Jade says a lot of processed food upsets her stomach after growing up without it. But some people will pitch organic to you as the cure for cancer, and if you’re telling me you feed your four-year-old Goji berries instead of getting him vaccinated, I think you’ve opened yourself up to public disdain.” Rose plucks a box of tea off the shelf. “Look at this one. It says it’ll revitalize your body and restore harmony to your thoughts. All for twelve dollars, too.”

”Sounds like a deal.”

”It would have its work cut out for it with us. Hey, if I drink Sleepy Time and Stay Alert blends at the same time, what do you think will happen?”

”You’ll shed your corporeal form and ascend to a being of pure consciousness, and that would be a shame, because I like your face.” You retrieve the boxes and put them back before she decides to do product testing. “Apparently these exotic grains cure depression with their wholesome vitamins and minerals.”

”Buy the whole shelf.”

She’s right; some of these products are ridiculous. The two of you are giggling over asparagus water when a middle-aged woman pushes past you with her shopping cart. A highblood couldn’t look down their nose better. “Are you girls done with that?” she asks.

”Definitely,” Rose says, straight-faced. “I’d recommend it. It made us gay.”

Rose did the talking there, and you were too busy laughing to think of how to react. But when you get to the cashier, your tongue twists in your mouth. You stammer through pleasantries until Rose rescues you and completes the transaction. You drift away while she's collecting the bags, pretending to peruse the week's advertisement flier.

“She was pretty,” Rose says when she joins you, groceries in tow. “Is that why you were stuttering?”

You take half the bags from her. It would have been polite to help her carry them from the conveyor belt, but you needed to escape. “Was she? I didn't notice.”

She nudges you with a conspiratorial grin. “You don't have to play coy. I won't get jealous.”

“I'm not playing coy.” You shift one of the bags over your wrist, and something inside crinkles. Hopefully you didn’t break anything. “Her face was a blur. I panicked.”

Rose’s smile fades. “I’d forgotten you could be shy.”

The automatic doors whoosh open as the two of you approach. You sidestep a mother and her offspring going the other direction. “When you grow up on an oasis where your nearest neighbors are the shambling undead, you're a little cautious of strangers.”

“But willing to send them messages on Pesterchum questioning their intelligence and morals.”

She printed your first conversation logs off and stuck them to her wall, which you find equally endearing and annoying. Every time you see them, you itch to pull out a pen and make edits. “That's different. We weren't face to face. And... this is all new, here. I worry they'll be able to tell.”

“That they'll scream “Space invader!” and cart you off to a top secret facility?

”I’m sure it’s funny to you,” you say with a sniff, starting across the parking lot. “They won’t dissect you.”

She smiles again – you meant her to; the dissection at least was a joke. “I get nervous too. Not as much now after everything we’ve been through, but I’ve always been hyperaware of social situations. But I tend to take the ‘don't get scared; get angry’ approach.”

You recall how she marched up to the conveyor belt and slammed down her purchases. “I did wonder if you were going to challenge the salesperson to a strife.”

“Chalk it up to the childhood narcissism. I always felt like everyone was passing judgment.”

You accidentally make eye contact with a man stepping out of his vehicle and redirect your gaze at Rose’s collarbone. “Like everyone's watching.”

She nods. “And that's not true. They have their own problems and couldn't care less what we do. We're not important to them. In this case, that's reassuring.”

You’re surprised she finds it comforting. You’re happy to fade into the background; Rose likes to be noticed. You’d never realized it frightened her too. “What a pair we make,” you say.

“Between us, we add up to one functional person.”

You pull open the car door for her with a flourish. “I'd be generous and say at least 1.5.”

A few of the humans have been working to get their licenses so Jane’s father doesn’t have to drive them everywhere. Rose only has a permit, but that doesn’t stop her from using the car. Seer powers let her know if there’s likely to be trouble, but otherwise she drives like she’s got a grudge against the pavement. She peels out of the parking spot and then slams on the brakes. You hug a carton of eggs to your chest so they don’t splatter against the windshield. “What is it?”

”We have cold bags for everything, right?”

”Yes.” It was overkill for a short trip, but you prefer to be prepared.

She pulls into the store’s partner gas station while you wave apologetically at the elderly woman she just cut off. “This is a date. We’re going to get coffee.”

The coffee machine is broken, so you both get 99 cent slushies and sit on the curb next to the free air pump. The parking spot is empty save for a mulch of cigarette butts and ripped up Lotto tickets. Rose slurps some of her concoction out of a straw. It’s a murky mess, and you spotted her squirting a few shots of energy drink in for good measure. You spent several minutes painstakingly creating a rainbow pattern and are now trying to drink evenly to keep the layers intact. A bag of chips slumps half-empty between you. They’ll complain about that back home, but it’s their fault for not coming along to supervise.

Rose sucks on her straw with a noise like a drain unclogging. “How’s this for romance and adventure?”

“I could do it again,” you say. And you could. The encounter with the cashier still leaves you shaken, but the haze has peeled off the world. It’s funny how after everything you’ve been through, something as simple like this can be energizing. There are groceries in the car that need to get back and a household worth of responsibilities to keep up with, but right now it could just be the two of you setting off on some new adventure. Rose has always made you feel that way. Light players make the world narrow around them, drawing in attention, compressing possibility. They’re a lantern you bump against, entranced. With Rose, you’ve found one that doesn’t burn.

”Well shit, these were ninety-nine cents.” She smirks in the way that means you’ve missed a joke. “I think our budget can afford it.”

”Thank you for dragging me out here.” Lurking in your room seems silly now. “It helps, borrowing your confidence.”

”It’s a show,” she says. “I don’t know how you manage to seem so centered all the time.”

”Amateur theatrics,” you say. “One functional person, here we are.” She raises her drink in a toast, and you knock them together. ”I mean it, though,” you continue. “It’s nice, the way you turn things into adventures. Even if it’s a shopping trip, I don’t know where we’re going to end up. It’s unpredictable, but I like it. I like spending time with you.”

She smiles and looks away. Whenever you’ve successfully induced emotions, she never wants to look you in the eye. “That slushy must have made an impression.”

”It was good.” You flick the straw, sending drops of condensation scattering across the asphalt. “We didn’t have anything like this at home, at least not where I grew up. That might explain part of the rapturous response. But mostly I think it’s because I love you.”

Rose stills. That might be a bad sign, but you’ve gotten yourself into this situation, so you might as well keep going. “I’m not trying to corner you,” you say, looking down at your knees. “I know you have difficulty expressing some things. But I wanted to express that. Right now.”

When you sneak a look over, her shoulders are shaking. The ice from your drink solidifies in your stomach until you realize she’s laughing.

”Do you know how long I’ve been agonizing over this?” she asks.

”I knew why,” you begin. “Your mother…” That’s not a complete sentence, but it doesn’t have to be. Sometimes you want to ask John to transport you into Rose’s past so you can grab the woman by her shoulders and shake her. “How could you be so careless?” you want to demand. “Didn’t you realize what you were doing?” You are all the results of what has been done to you, combined with your attempts to overcome it. Even with your universes gone, their impressions remain as indelible parts of you. You wouldn’t want Rose to be anything other than who she is, but that doesn’t stop you from wishing she could have gotten something better growing up.

“That was what started it.” Rose takes a gulp of her drink. The humor drains from her voice. Now she’ll look you in the eye. “She’d vanish into her laboratory or a drunken stupor and leave me to fend for myself. The first time I tried cooking spaghetti I set off the fire alarm. I couldn’t get it to stop until I climbed up on a chair and took the batteries out. She slept through the whole thing. So when she turned up with a new present, how could I believe it was sincere? And even if it was, it didn’t make up for anything. If all you can give is the trappings of love, like you’ve bought out a Valentines’ clearance sale but can’t be damned to raise your own child, it doesn’t count.” She sloshes the remains of her drink around with one hand and watches it like she’s reading tea leaves. “So I guess I distrusted all of it. The glitz, the performance, anything. Even the words. Because if you do it right, they should know. But… in the past I’ve been guilty of overcorrecting.”

“Really?” You try to keep your tone teasing. Anything else might alarm her.

She elbows you in the ribs, but not hard. “Sometimes I’ve turned the wheel a bit and drifted over the dividing line between reasonable responses and terrible decisions by a few millimeters.”

“I think a driving instructor might say you sailed over the median, engaged with oncoming traffic, and left the highway entirely for parts unknown. What?” you add. “I’ve read the manual you’re all practicing from.”

“Five dollars says you pass the test before I do. After the timeline John made unhappen, I realized I’d never told you. For all the wrong, stupid reasons. I shouldn’t have let any of that stop me. I would’ve died with that as one of my greatest regrets. So I wanted it to be perfect, since I made you wait so long.” She covers her mouth with one hand and smiles through her fingers. “God, you should see my search history. I watched promposal videos, although I wiped all that data and I’ll deny it if you tell anyone. And here we are –” she pauses and shakes her head - “in a gas station parking lot. But you know what? I think it fits.” She slings an arm around your shoulders and plants a sticky kiss on your cheek. “I love you. Let’s make it count.”

This is what you have learned from dating Rose Lalonde. Expect your lives to accumulate the clutter of experiences together – receipts and stolen shirts and empty packages still streaked with frosting. Expect to make missteps, because the two of you are walking an uncharted path one step after another. Sometimes you fall, fight your demons, and climb back up again. You are all doing this for the first time.

Expect her to say she loves you in unexpected ways. A new package of lip gloss left on your pillow. A flower pressed between the pages of a heavy book to make it delicate and perfect. Occasionally, the words.

Make it count.

[infinitefandomimagines]

First Hunting Trip - Sam And Dean X Sibling!Reader

MASTER LIST

WARNINGS: YELLING, KILLING

“Y/N, NOW!” Dean yelled, he had somehow pinned the demon against a wall, and was struggling to keep him there. I grabbed the demon knife, and plunged it into the demon’s chest, it died instantly.

I stepped back, my mouth hanging wide open, a smile finding it’s way into my face. “I just did that, oh yeah. That’s right, I just killed a demon, I’m amazing. ‘Y/N Winchester kills a demon and saves the world’ I can see the headlines now!” I rambled on, while my brother Dean laughed at me.

“Slow down there Y/N. You may have killed a demon, but your not experienced enought to save the world. *Cough cough* like me *cough*” Dean joked. I rolled my eyes, “shut up and let me have my moment,” I said punching him in the arm, making him chuckle.

The reason I was so excited is because I had just gone on my first hunt, Dean had taken me as a birthday present. You see, Dean and Sam are my older brothers, and no matter what, they keep me out of harms way the best they can. Although Dean can be more laid back than Sam, who forbid me to EVER go on a hunt.

“Alright kid, we need to get home before Sam finds out we’re gone,” Dean said grabbing his gun. But before he could walk a step further I ran up and hugged him. “Thanks Dean, this was the best birthday ever, I love you.” I said into his chest. “I Love you too little sis,” he said back.

We walked out to the Impala and I decided to test my luck. “Hey Dean, so you think I could drive?” I asked, giving my best puppy dog face. “Yeah sure, why not,” Oh my god, are you serious?“ I asked shocked, “ha, no!” I rolled my eyes, I should have seen that coming.

I got into the car and Dean drive off, with me talking about how ‘badass’ I was.

We finally arrived at the bunker after a long drive. But before I got out of the car Dean spoke. “Remember-” I stopped him there, “I know, I know, don’t tell Sammy.” I said. Dean nodded and we got out and walked into the bunker.

“Where have you been!” Yelled a voice. Dean and I stopped dead in our tracks, oh shit. Sam stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Do you want to tell me where you two were?” Oh yeah, he was definitely pissed.

“Dean, you uh, you wanna take this one?” I asked. Dean shook his head, “no, not really.” I turned back to Sam, but before I could get a word out Sam said, “Y/N, go to your room,” “Sam, just lis-” I tried to explain, but I got cut off. “NOW!” Sam yelled.

His outburst scared me, and tears began to sting my eyes, Sam had never, not once, yelled at me. I ran away and slammed the door to my room and began crying.

·Sam’s P.O.V·

“What the hell man? What’s wrong with you?” Dean asked. I looked at him, “What wrong with me? What’s wrong with you, what you thinking taking Y/N on a hunt?” I asked, my voice still raised.

“I took her on a hunt because that is what she has ALWAYS wanted. All she wanted to do was go on a hunt, so that’s what I did. You need to stop treating her like she’s five Sammy, she’s a grown woman,” Dean retorted.

“I don’t care Dean, she’s still our little sister, and I, I can’t lose her,” my voice cracked a little as I tried to hold back my tears. I sat down, beginning to regret yelling at Y/N.

“I understand that your worried Sammy, I was too, but at some point, you need to let her grow up. I mean you should’ve seen her out there, the kid’s a natural badass.” Dean said, and as much I hated to admit it, he was right. “I’m gonna go talk to her,” I said.

I walked into Y/N’s room, she was laying on her bed crying. I expected her to yell at me and tell me to leave, but she stayed silent. I sat down on her bed, but she immediately turned to her other side, making me sigh.

“Y/N look, I’m sorry for yelling, I was just upset that you went out with Dean on a hunt, the thought of you dying or getting hurt scared me. You know I love you,” I said to her. The last thing I was expecting was for her to turn around an talk to me, but she did.

“You know Sam, I look up to you and Dean, what you do, how you save people. I just wanted to be like my big brothers, is that a crime?” She said tears running down her face, the sight broke my heart.

“I know but-” I was cut off. “I thought maybe by killing that demon I could prove to you that I can fight, and help, but obviously not. Just leave me alone.” I felt bad, maybe Dean was right, I had to let her grow up, wether I wanted to or not.

“Do you remember when Dean went to Hell, for the first time. I was wrecked, and you wouldn’t come out of your room for anything?” I said, my eyes began to gloss over at the memory.

“I was drinking, going crazy, I even went to a demon for help. And then one day, somehow, you got yourself out of your room, and you went downstairs and you said to me, 'Sammy, I know it hurts, but you need to stop, you’re hurting yourself’ and I told you to get lost. But you never gave up on me, you don’t need to prove yourself to me, you already have.” I said, crying.

I was about to leave, but then two arms wrapped around my torso, and Y/N laid her head in my chest. “I love you Sammy,” she mumbled into my chest. She was obviously barley awake.

“I love you too little sis,” I said kissing the top of her head. I pulled some blankets over her, and waited for her to completely fall asleep before carefully getting up and leaving, making sure not to wake her. I stood in the doorway and turned the lights off.

I smiled at Y/N, then I realized, I hadn’t lost my baby sister, she had just simply grown up.

Also posted on my wattpad @ infinite_fandoms_

[elle-stevens]

The Break Up Blog - Day Twenty Five

My sinuses were especially crappy today. 

They woke me up at 3am and with a sore throat to boot, which I battled with for two hours. Then I dozed off for a magical hour before I forced myself out of bed at 06:30 and into a shower. I think there’s dust lingering in my apartment, even after I got a cleaner in there a few days ago. My colleague, JI, suggested that I get an air purifier for my apartment, which is a good idea. I’ve been putting it off for a good year and it’s finally time to get some money together and save what’s left of my nasal passages. 

Work was busy and ‘blah’ simultaneously with me introducing the new journals that C made for all the students. The goal was to only spend 10-15 minutes on the journal writing before moving onto other class activities. But either I’m just a shitty teacher or my students are exceptionally slow, but the journal basically took up an entire class period of 40 minutes for each group of students. My weak time management skills have always been the bane of my teaching career and it showed today. At least SB was less of a gremlin in class today. I took the card he made me last semester to apologise for his rude behaviour off my desk and hid it amongst my textbooks like I did with X’s old photo. I’m not going to rip SB’s card into shreds since he’s just a child, but that doesn’t mean I want to look at the blasted thing all day every day either. I only managed to check and correct half of my students’ journal entries. When it got to 16:30, I gave it up and took the remaining journals home with me to check and correct over the weekend. I’m sure I can bang that out in a good hour tomorrow. 

I went home and ate an early dinner, feeling blue and strangely detached. Then I decided to rid my fan of dust so I could spare my sinuses tonight while sleeping. I cleaned it perfectly, but couldn’t reattach the cover with that infernal tube of rubber connected with a screw and nut. Whose bright idea was it to make a fan that you can’t actually put together after you’ve taken it apart? 

I officially lost my shit at that point because it had been close to 30 minutes with no progress of putting the fan back together. So I yelled, cursed, kicked the fan, threw it on the ground and then kicked it some more till I severed several integral parts holding the wires together. Then I grabbed a garbage bag and chucked all the ruined pieces into it in a haphazard manner. While the fire of rage and indignation was still alight in me, I stormed into my study and grabbed X’s gifts that she’d given me once upon a time: the shirt she had made for me, our couple rings, the rock I painted for her with a picture of her country’s flag, the giant card she made when I first visited her hometown and of course, the colourful origami butterflies she made me once upon a time. 

I ripped up the card and the cardboard box holding the origami. I ripped up the T-shirt with a pair of scissors and my hands into unruly ribbons. Then I threw the butterflies all over my bedroom floor and jumped on them over and over again till my heels hurt. I’m sure my neighbours below must think I’m certifiable by now with the racket I made for a good hour. But after that spectacle, I threw X’s trinkets into another garbage and marched both that and my broken fan downstairs to the big green bin outside my building. I forgot to add the passport cover she’d had made for me a year ago, but that will end up on the rubbish heap soon enough. All that’s left now are X’s clothes, her old boom-box, her grandmother’s ring and her plushies like Christie that I’ll send back to her at some point. I would never keep a family heirloom of an ex and everything else has been marred by the hateful things that X did in the last year of our relationship. So it all has to go or get tossed away. 

I was high on adrenaline after that meltdown and I went to the gym and exercised half-heartedly, wishing I was home and resting instead. Towards the end of it, my righteous euphoria died and now I’m left with a gnawing, aching sadness and sense of loneliness. Everything feels pretty pointless in my life these days, even mourning the loss of X in my life. Sometimes I wish I didn’t care so much about things or people. I talked to my siblings and A and the three of them assured me that I just need time to work through my emotions and that the stuff that happened with X wasn’t my fault. Even though I know all of that, it’s difficult not to view this heartache as some form of punishment for some unknown slight that I’m responsible for. All of this heartache and depression while X gets to sleep soundly at night. 

G keeps reminding me to focus more on the good things that I still have in my life, so I’m going to try and do that. I might go to a cafe somewhere in the city tomorrow with my students’ journals and bang out the rest of their corrections. Then I have another gym session in the evening which I hope won’t break my body or my mind. It’s my dad’s birthday tomorrow, so I want to call him and wish him properly. The money I sent myself finally went through to my bank account. So I sent the money I owed my siblings back to them along with some extra cash for my dad’s presents and his cake. At least replenishing my savings won’t be too much of an issue even with the stupid business with ordering a new bank card. 

My sinuses are starting to calm down; I hope it stays that way for the rest of the night. I’m getting sleepy and my body and mind feel so numb these days. It’s almost like I expect to never feel anything akin to happiness or even desire ever again. Both concepts seem so foreign to me, like the words from a foreign language that I can never hope to understand. I hope I’ll start to feel more like myself and less like this poorly crafted zombie caricature that I’m portraying lately. 

Maybe if I can distract myself for long enough, I can pretend that nothing’s that bleak or insufferable these days. 

[seyaryminamoto]

May I ask, why does Azula make you passionate? Not a lot of people has the capability to empathize (NOT sympathize) with the antagonists, or a lot don't have the power to share or sense clearly their thoughts and feelings (for many reasons) as they do with the protagonists. Most people are mersiless toward them, even if they were understandable.

Uh, well, if you want the very honest answer? I saw myself in her. But if you want an in-depth answer, click the Read More.

I didn’t mean to, no. I didn’t go looking for myself in her character, I was uneasy about her, even somewhat worried, in her first episodes. She had been characterized very deliberately as colder, more scheming, more efficient than her brother or Zhao, the only Fire Nation villains we knew so far. She hadn’t quite succeeded at anything yet, but there was no tantrum after her failures, no self-pitying act: she simply kept going relentlessly. 

She wouldn’t stop at anything, and after watching her convince Mai so easily that her brother wasn’t worth trading over a king, it’s kind of natural to wonder if she’s really devoid of a conscience… No lie, though, it also reflects heavily on Mai that she agreed so easily. It especially looks like Mai has less of a conscience than Azula, since it’s her brother we’re talking about, and it doesn’t really look like she was scared of contradicting Azula: she had only ever complained about her family ever since she showed up on-screen. In short, I thought they were all weird and mean and morally incorrect! :’D

But I have had a penchant to grow interested in characters who are strong, who are driven to the ends of the earth. I used to think I favored tsundere-types of female characters back when I was in my anime-heavy phase, but soon enough I realized that wasn’t quite right: I was interested in female leaders instead, characters who were often tsundere because they bury their feelings deep down, because their main interests are professional, or academic… basically, they were ambitious people who sometimes went too far in dragging others into stuff they hadn’t signed up for (Ritsu Tainaka, Haruhi Suzumiya, Misaki Ayuzawa, Kyoko Mogami, Natsumi Tsujimoto, and so on…).

Basically, I’ve been appealed by characters who share Azula’s reckless determination, but when I approached Avatar I had also moved on mostly from anime, and I found myself, instead, writing an original story where my protagonist was a princess, hailing from a western nation she was supposed to rule one day. This princess was very determined, physically powerful to the point of being beyond human (then again, she was a literal descendant from gods :’D), with a terrible relationship with her family (in particular fighting with an older half-brother who wants to prove he’s more suitable for the throne than her). Said girl’s priority, first and foremost, is her nation, and she’s willing to go to whatever means she must in order to protect it (even resort to magic, which is frowned upon in her nation of warriors).

Now, after I exposed that character’s main traits to you, don’t you think there’s a few too many similarities with Azula? :’D yep, I thought so too as I continued watching ATLA. Tbh it freaked me out how similar they actually were, since I hadn’t watched the show or been influenced by it at all. I didn’t even know Azula existed!

Anyways! I’ve gone off the rails a bit, but back on track: why did I identify with Azula?

First off, I did start getting the feeling she was similar to those characters I loved, despite she was, obviously, meant to be a villain. But what REALLY did it for me?

It was the scene in Zuko Alone, when Iroh’s gifts arrive. Azula’s dear brother gets something mind-blowing while she gets something pathetic, generic, that someone assumed was going to please her because she’s a girl. Because girls like dolls, right?

Well, in my case, I got play make-up instead. I had a trauma with make-up since age 4, and if people had bothered knowing me, or even talking with my mom about me, they would have known that. They didn’t. It didn’t matter to them either way. Meanwhile, my brother’s gifts were incredible! :’D all sorts of action toys, new Hot Wheels, even remote-controlled cars. And when I wanted to play with them? I got a big ole’ NO from him, along with my parents telling me, often, that the toys were his and that I should let him play instead.

Heck, there was this one time he got this ship-in-a-bottle crafts as a present for his birthday from someone who worked at MY school. When I asked where was mine? Oh, there wasn’t one. My birthday was the day before my brother’s, the guy who made it worked at MY SCHOOL, but he would make a gift of the sort for my brother and not for me. I don’t remember if he even lied saying he’d make one, but fact of the matter is, I never got a handcrafted, special boat-in-a-bottle with my name on it. He did.

Let’s just say… when I saw Azula getting that disappointing doll while Zuko got the incredible knife, my jaw dropped. I literally dropped all my defenses against her along with my jaw, too. I saw that and damn, it put her character in a completely different perspective for me: it made her REAL, her experience with her brother resembled mine so much that I was in genuine shock. The salty “You’re not even good!” comment when he was playing with the knife, spoken with the intent to mask her interest in the weapon and her jealousy? The way she takes the knife later too, smirking and teasing her brother, yet letting him have it back because she knows it’s not supposed to be hers? Anon, I swear that was 100% the way I acted in countless similar situations. And I know, it may make me sound like a very bad sister (in Azula’s defense she’s actually a better sister than I am, in my brother’s defense he’s a better brother than Zuko could ever hope to be), but it’s still how it was.

From there onwards, a lot of my interest in Azula came from seeing how she suddenly stepped out of her “supreme villain overlord” role to prove she was really just a teenager like the rest of the cast. We’re talking about a girl who imitated her brother for shits and giggles, just to amuse herself at the expenses of a completely confused Aang. A girl who made a pun about the Avatar’s fangirls. Her sense of humor, no doubt, is kinda weird and not the sweetest? But she has one! It’s there, and no lie, I laughed my ass off with those two occasions at least.

Eventually, I just found myself more interested in her to the point of recklessly supporting her in the show. Yes, I knew the Gaang would win, and I didn’t mind, I liked them too! But I was slowly and surely loving Azula more with every passing episode, as she proved she was the one villain worth respecting in this entire franchise. And she was a fourteen-year-old girl with zero social skills, self-esteem issues to the ends of the earth, a turbulent relationship with her parents and her brother, and the frankly adorable wish to know if people might like her if they didn’t know she was a princess.

Another big selling point for me, as already stated, was her relationship with her brother. While my brother is a little less of a drag than Zuko can be (meaning, my brother can be happy once in a while :’D he even makes jokes… though seriously bad ones .__. maybe he shouldn’t make them...), their relationship was so similar to ours that it freaked me out. I’ve been competing with my siblings since forever, but when it came to outdoing my oldest sisters I seriously just couldn’t do it (honestly, no 3yo can expect to compete in regards of anything with a 10yo, or can she? :’D and yet I was such a pig-headed brat that I did it all the same). Meanwhile, my brother, only two years older than me, was an easier target to surpass, and I set myself on the task of doing that. Whenever he was better than me at anything, I ridiculed him (remember the knife scene?). Whenever I was better than him at anything, he would try to outdo me again and usually fail, then get annoyed and say it was a stupid thing anyways.

As we grew older, the conflict in our relationship grew a lot uglier in the sense that we didn’t really just snap at each other about toys now. I seriously got so pissed off by how entitled he was acting once that I locked myself up in the bathroom, punched a wall out of sheer frustration and damn near broke my hand in the process. No lie, that helped me vent my frustration real easily :’D

Basically, I’ve experienced the sibling relationship Azula did. My brother is far more popular than I am (well, in regards of people who live in our environment, at least), so everyone flocks to him, and when Azula’s friends betrayed her for Zuko, well… you can imagine how that stung for me :’D I’ve had friends who haven’t quite betrayed me for him or so, but they’ve stopped being my friends and become his, instead. How about that?

Anyways, Azula most likely wasn’t built up to be relatable, she was built to be a rounded character instead. There are more obviously relatable characters in the show, Katara is relatable for most the fandom, Toph is relatable for natural tomboys, and so on. But even then, none of these characters were built to be relatable. They were built to be real and believable, and in being built that way, they became relatable. And that’s what happened to me with Azula.

Honestly, I think I can’t really relate or empathize with Zuko a lot because of my own experiences too. I will judge him harder because yep, I’m biased :’D but I’m not trying to say he’s all bad and Azula is all good or anything. Truth be told, secret I’ve kept to myself for a long time… The finale depressed me for a day or two because I kept wondering if that was the only outcome for someone like Azula. Because in a sense, it looked like the show was saying that was kind of the outcome for someone like me. It felt like it was saying the world would judge me as impossible to save, while my brother got every success I could only dream of. 

And... who knows? Maybe that’s what’s happening indeed. He’s certainly doing better than me these days. All I can safely say is I’m glad he is. Despite things were bad between us, they’re not so bad anymore. So if I’m to be left unsuccessful and he’s off to shoot for the stars, I’ll congratulate him instead of holding grudges about why he gets that and I don’t.

Anyways, the finale freaked me out, but I distanced myself from the character to a degree so I wouldn’t project on her so much. Still, the way her ending wrapped up bothered me, and I was very much unwilling to see her life end that way. As the comics have been building her up either for a very bad downfall or for a very long redemption that still is barely beginning, I lose my patience often as I keep wanting something better for her ASAP. Not a lot of positive stuff has happened yet to her… but that’s what fanfiction is for, for me. Ever since I opened FF.net’s ATLA archive, the first thing I did was search for Azula getting happy endings xD

And thus, that’s why I write her as I do and connect with her as I have. Azula seems to gather most the traits of characters I loved, but on top of that, she had an eerily similar sibling relationship to mine with my brother. A lot of my own eternal chase towards polishing and developing my talents came from a rather toxic place of thinking that having lots of skills was the only way I could be valid, somehow. I’m not exempt from self-esteem issues myself, see :’D

Anyways, I realize the majority of people won’t find Azula relatable, acceptable, likeable in any way. I don’t mind, I don’t really think it’s that odd, the show very obviously featured her as a problem that needed to be dealt with. But I’m not one to stick with supporting only the heroes in stories. Very often I’ve liked villains better, whether because they’re complex and worth exploring, as Azula is, or because they’re simply more interesting than their heroic counterparts. I guess I could have said this from the start and spared you the insanely lengthy insight into how my mind works, right? :’D

[rwbyremnants]

THIS CHAPTER: July: lewd conversation. Enabler: nudity, tickling, toe-kissing, dressing the other person.

Sorry this chapter is so short but it was just the best place to cut it off lol. To those of you who want more of Summer/Yang, there will be a little more later on (though Enabler is still the OTP of this fic, don’t worry). To those of you who DON’T, there will be warnings in those chapters.

=Chapter 8

True to her word, Yang didn’t even so much as look through the door to the back patio a single time as she finished her lunch, then went up to take a shower when her laundry turned out to still be drying. By then, the intensity of the moment had faded, and she didn’t even wind up needing to “take care of it” while in there.

Not that her cruel brain didn’t keep drifting back to the moment. Unlike with Ruby, reminding herself that Summer was her dad’s wife helped a lot in dispelling those lingering bits of attraction. The memory would probably wander in at weird times for the next few years but it was easy to say “She banged your dad” and make it go back from whence it came.

But again, that didn’t work with Ruby. For some reason, the half-sibling factor didn’t phase her; it should have, and it did make her gut twist when she thought about it, but it didn’t lessen her attraction at all. She wanted to be with her so much it burned.

Once her laundry was all put away and she went back downstairs, Summer was coming back in, still in the robe - or more likely, in the robe again - and carrying a magazine and an empty glass. Her cheeks were a little pink and she was swaying slightly, which told Yang she’d poured a little extra something into that glass to help her cope with what had happened before.

“Oh, hey,” she offered casually, getting a water from the fridge. “Looks like you got all cleaned up. You look nice, dear.”

“Thanks,” Yang snorted as she turned on the TV.

“Isn’t this the part where you say I look nice, too? Oh, wait… you already did that today.” A little chuckle. “Sorry, I shouldn’t joke like that. It was… well, I just shouldn’t.”

“Y-yeah. I mean, no offense, but I’d rather not think about it anymore. Like… you’re my stepmom.”

Nodding, she came over and sat down next to Yang. She was relieved to see she was moving carefully enough so that no flaps fell open or anything like that, and she left a good foot or so of space between them on the couch. Their closeness didn’t exactly put Yang at ease, but she didn’t think she needed to freak out yet.

“I understand. Did a lot of thinking about this while I was outside, and… I’m trying not to blame myself, but the important thing is, I can’t blame you for… well, for being human. I might be your stepmom, but you said you think of me as an attractive woman, so… naturally, if you see an attractive woman in her birthday suit-”

“Thanks for the instant replay!” Yang burst out in embarrassment, trying to somehow hide behind the remote. It didn’t work.

“Sorry,” Summer told her as she patted up and down her bicep. “Ooh… do you work out?”

“Mrs. Xiao Long…”

“All I’m trying to say is, I might tease you once or twice, but I don’t really blame you for… well, saluting me with your flagpole.” At this, she snickered a little. “Right? Get it?”

Laughing weakly, she reached over and patted Summer’s shoulder. Like she would do for Blake, or anyone really. “Right. Uh, maybe you should drink a little more of that water.”

“I know, I know. Had too much wine; I was… having an anxiety attack.” When Yang blinked at her rapidly, she shrugged and added, “About my stepdaughter having a hard-on for me? Kind of anxiety-inducing!”

“It wasn’t ‘for you’, exactly! Just… about your body. Like, you as a person, I still want to be like… my second mom, but more like an aunt? Kinda?”

That made Summer stop and smile at her, a genuinely touched smile. “Awww… oh, that’s so sweet of you!” Then she uncapped the water and took a long swig, apparently thinking better of Yang’s advice. “Ahhh. So yes, this is good; your body wants to bang mine, but intellectually, we still remember we’re family. That’s what’s important.”

Again, Yang felt the knife twisting as she thought about what she and Ruby were to each other. A sudden urge to tell Summer all about that filled her, but she ignored it; she wouldn’t understand. Nobody would. Telling her would only mean she got shipped back to New England much earlier than she expected.

“Anyway, I’ll start cleaning up before they get home,” she remarked as she pushed to stand up. “But… I’m really glad we could figure out our way around this very unfortunate situation. That we didn’t end up shouting, or hating each other.”

“Or worse.” Yang didn’t even finish her thought; they both knew the only thing that would be worse.

“Right,” Summer breathed, nodding with wide eyes. Then she smiled down at her. “It really has been nice getting to know you, Yang. Seeing you and Ruby getting along. I’m glad we have you here.”

“Me, too.” Then she waved as Summer went off to her room to change, trying her damndest not to watch her move as she went.

Taiyang and Ruby returned not long after that, stinking to high heaven and carrying a bucket full of fish to be cleaned and sorted. Looked like they were going to eat well that night. Yang tried to talk to them, but they smelled so powerfully that she had her hand over her face the entire time, so eventually they both excused themselves to go shower up.

Yang followed Ruby into her room once she got out of the shower. There was no point in keeping this a secret from her; she knew Summer asked, but she never promised her that she wouldn’t tell.

“You what?!”

“Y-yeah,” she muttered, cheeks red again as she scratched the back of her head. “It was super awkward and uncomfortable, and I wanted to melt through the floor and disappear.”

The shorter half-sister was standing there with her eyebrows disappearing into her hair, hands on her hips partly out of outrage, and partly to hold her towel around her body. “And what, you wanted to bang her?”

“I told you, having one doesn’t always mean I want-”

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed, puffing out her cheeks as she scowled. “Well, it’s still weird! I mean, it’s my MOM! Isn’t it weird to you?!”

“You know, when you think about it… you look a lot like your mom, don’t you? So doesn’t it make sense that I’d think she was cute, too, since… since I think you’re cute?”

It was a pretty desperate shot, but Yang felt like she had to take it. Luckily, Ruby seemed to agree. She didn’t let go immediately, but she at least rolled her eyes and stopped yelling at her.

“True… I mean, I guess that does make sense, and I can’t act like my mom’s not attractive. Not to ME, but objectively, sure.” A little shrug. “It’s still gross to me that the dick I like poked my mom one time, though.”

“Through clothes. That’s a super important detail; I wasn’t naked, and technically she wasn’t, either… at that point.”

Pushing a hand into her face, she grumbled, “I can’t believe she did that while we had company! I mean, she sunbathes nude all the time, it’s nothing new. Heck, we did it together and it’s not weird; I’m her kid, she changed my diapers, right? But like, with strange people in the house…”

“I’m ‘strange’, huh?” Yang half-heartedly chuckled as she finally leaned against the dresser, letting some of her adrenaline subside. “Can’t argue with you there.”

“So… if you weren’t already doing stuff with me, would you have wanted to with her?”

“What?! NO! She’s banging my dad, that’s a whole other kind of line I don’t wanna cross!”

“Not at the same time as him! GOD!”

Squinting at Ruby, she demanded, “Please don’t tell me you’re actually jealous of your own mom. You really don’t have to be.”

“Well…” Pouting a little, she said, “She’s older, and she knows more about this stuff than I do. Like, I know you didn’t do anything, and you don’t want to, but… you could be having normal sex by now with her instead of me jerking you off through your shorts.”

“So what?” Yang said immediately. “I don’t care about that.”

“What about her body? Is it… hotter than mine? Like, I wouldn’t even know one way or the other.”

“Ruby… come on, don’t do this. I’m sorry, okay? Like I said, none of this was on purpose, so I hope you don’t keep giving me shit about this.” Leaning forward, she kissed Ruby’s cheek. “Seriously, I don’t care about your mom as anything besides being your mom. I swear.”

After a few breaths, Ruby muttered, “You’re right. I know, I just… feel dumb, and weird. Sorry.” Clearing her throat, then she added with a little smirk, “I’m glad you didn’t take care of your dick while you were showering, though…”

Yang goggled at her for a few seconds. Then she shook her head and muttered, “Shameless. You’re totally shameless, you know that?”

“Maaayyybe.” Sparing a tiny smile, she bit her lip and leaned up to whisper, “Maybe I can distract your brain from thinking about my mom, too.”

“Oh yeah? How?” But when Ruby reached up and nipped her towel off, letting it fall to the floor, she said, “Oh… that’s how.”

Of course Ruby’s body was every bit as gorgeous as her mother’s. Flawless in every way, and very slightly perkier. She had seen more of her from the back before, but the front presented a few more interesting things for her gaze to linger over. Yang tried not to look at the soft, pink nipples or the little untrimmed thatch of brown hairs overlong; they were intriguing, but they really weren’t alone-alone.

“Is it working?”

“Ohhhhhh yeah.” Then she seemed to realise what she had said and how she said it, and chuckled self-consciously. “W-what I mean is, uh, yes. Yes, it’s working. Good job.”

“Good,” she giggled. “Um… are we really that alike? Body-wise.”

Snorting, she poked Ruby in the stomach as she said, “Pretty much. Like, a couple small things, but you got a lot more of your mom’s genes than our dad’s. I think mine were pretty evenly split.”

“Like what’s different?” she asked, turning from side to side and looking down at her body, as if a flashing sign would point out the changes.

“You sure you want me to tell you about this?” A nod. With a shrug, she tapped her chin. “Well… she trims it up down there. Tattoo, and of course you don’t have any tats. Uh, her hips are a tiny bit wider? Probably from squeezing you out.” Ruby made a disgusted noise. “And she has stretch marks from that, too.”

Nodding, Ruby piped up, “So basically, if I ever have a kid I’ll turn into a clone of my mom?”

“Yep.” Grinning to herself, she started poking more as she said, “And you’ll have marks here, and here, and over here-”

“HEY!” Ruby laughed, convulsing a little. “Not again!” After a few more ticklings, she backed onto the bed, flailing and cackling aloud as Yang attacked her until she was red-faced, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.

Then Yang was pinning her by the wrists to keep her from retaliating, chuckling as she grinned down at the sniffling and giggling girl below her. After a few more seconds, they both stopped laughing… but the smiles remained in place.

“Love you,” Ruby whispered up at her, so earnestly that Yang could feel her heart squeeze.

“Me, too.” Leaning down, she kissed her very gently, and Ruby responded without any hesitation. “Totally in love.”

Nodding, she bit her lip before reaching up to squeeze her shoulder through her shirt. “And I’m super cool with that now. Still weird, but like… I know that it doesn’t matter how weird it is. How I feel about you is more important than how other people feel about how I feel about you.”

Yang was still lying there, partly next to and partly on top of her half-sister and trying to think of any words that could match those, when a knock came at the door. Then their father shouted, “Hey, girls!”

“DON’T COME IN!” Ruby shouted right away. “I’m not dressed yet!”

The door had started to open a half-inch, but then shut tight again. “Sorry! Hurry up, come watch me clean the fish for dinner!”

“Why?” Yang groaned, trying to calm down after having been scared out of her mind a moment before. “I don’t wanna watch fish guts spilling all over the place…”

“You should learn this! Come on, don’t take too long!”

“Okay, Dad!” Ruby called back. After his steps receded, she turned to Yang with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “That was close!”

“Yep.” Leaning in, she pressed her lips just behind Ruby’s ear, earning her closed eyes and a sigh. “Mm… I keep thinking that this is such a bad idea… but like… you’re right, we might as well be honest about this. I like you, and you like me.”

Nodding, she raised a hand so her fingers could trail over Yang’s cheek. “So much.” Then she sat up on her elbows. “Do you wanna dress me?”

“Huh?”

“Dress me up, like a doll. Put my clothes on me. I want you to…”

The light blush in Ruby’s cheeks and the way she was gazing at Yang made her heart beat so fast she thought it might gallop out of her chest. So she made a joke, to distract both of them. “Ain’t I supposed to wanna do the opposite?”

“Yang,” she hissed, and they both laughed. “Maybe later.”

Then Yang got up and went to the dresser. She pulled out a few things, ones that more or less matched, and went back to Ruby, holding up the underwear and adjusting them so that the leg holes were lined up correctly.

“Come on, let’s do this.” Ruby slid her legs through, but then she pushed a foot into Yang’s face. The blonde grunted, “Cut that out!”

“Why? They’re clean.” When Yang merely glared down at her in annoyance, she giggled and booped her nose with the big toe. Not that Yang truly minded; as she had said, they were recently-scrubbed, and soft. “You don’t like my little piggies?”

Rolling her eyes, Yang grabbed her ankle and kissed the toes. “Don’t be dumb, of course I do. Every part of you’s on the list.”

Then she forced the leg down and away so she could pick up the pair of shorts. While Ruby was pulling her panties better into place, she wrestled her legs into the shorts, as well. Then she stood up, looking upward into her big sister’s eyes as she held her arms up for the shirt.

“Why… do I get the feeling you really like me doing this?” Yang asked.

“Told you already, it’s nice. Letting my sis take care of me.”

Blushing a lot more than those words should have made her blush, Yang forced the shirt down over Ruby’s head to cut off their view of each other for a few seconds. Give her time to recover. When the head popped through, it was grinning, and Yang shook her head before pulling her into a hug.

“Stop being so cute. It’s annoying.”

“Annoying?!”

Watching their dad clean the fish was both irritating and disgusting, but also fascinating for Yang. Ruby had been through it a time or two, but this was the first time Yang had ever seen anything like that. She looked and listened, and tried to make up for not having gone with her dad in the first place.

Maybe it was partly guilt over what she and Ruby were doing when out of sight of the adults, or maybe the secret the three of them were keeping about the incident with his wife. She felt completely awful keeping so many secrets from him… but she knew that telling him would be the only thing worse than keeping secrets. It sucked, but this was just the truth of the situation, and they would all have to get used to it.

Which was why she finally did bring up bowling. He jumped on the chance, which did make Yang feel even worse, but simultaneously assuaged some of her previous guilt; at least she was doing something about it now. When she and Ruby went back inside to tell Summer, she smiled and said that she would be happy to go, even though the glance she gave Yang was a little more awkward than it had been before.

“God, you weren’t kidding,” Ruby whispered on their way back out to the garage. “You two really did have an almost-thing!”

“You think I’d make up something like that?!” Groaning in annoyance, she rubbed at her face while Ruby giggled. “I’m glad you think this is hilarious.”

“Sorry. It’s just super weird.”

“Actually, I mean it; I really am glad that you do, instead of being weirded out. At least that makes one of us. It’ll be hard to put the whole thing behind me. But I’m gonna try.”

Threading her fingers through Yang’s, Ruby leaned up to kiss her cheek for the brief second no one was around to see it. “I believe in you, Yang.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”