#with so many podcasts it's hard to remember where I left off on each one

[vbsvartalf]

Me: Oh, I can't remember the last episode of Amelia Project I listened to, hmm, what should I do?

Me: Well, better just start from the beginning

[thinplacesradio]

a snowy, tree-lined residential street, lit by a yellow streetlamp on the right and and the warm glow from the houses. the image is distorted by VCR static. white text reads:

[025] THE FRIEND. A CALLER REACHES OUT. THE HOST HEADS HOME.

listen here, or anywhere you find your podcasts. transcript under the cut:

[static, radio tuning]

[Traveling Sales Rep: Don’t touch that dial! We’ll be right back, after these short messages.] [static, radio tuning]

[click]

Hello and welcome to Thin Places Radio. I’m your host,

and it is the middle of the night. But don’t worry. You’re not alone.

[Thin Places theme] 

[soft street noises] [crickets]

I’m coming to you one foot in front of the other from my studio, which is what I like to call the darkened street with the careful orange glow of street lights rising up above and around you as you walk home from your shift, wired headphones trailing down from your ears. Your hands are in your coat pockets. You didn’t turn any music on before you left, but you’re not gonna do it now, either. There’s something about the moment that it doesn’t seem like you can interrupt. 

You’ve been at this job for a month, now, and you’re starting to feel like you’ll never get the hang of it. Every time you clock out, your head’s too full, and your neck is too sore. But you’re telling yourself a lie. Not that you mean to. It seems true right now, on this street corner, as you hurry across to the other side. But it isn’t. 

[owl hooting]

Everybody feels like this at the start of something new, even if it’s exciting, and even if you’re good at it. [crow cawing] Your hands will become surer. Things will become second nature. You’ll be the person the next new person asks for help, and you’ll help them. I promise. It’s all already happened. 

So… what is Thin Places Radio? Well, you can call in about anything strange that you’ve got going on in your life - feelings, omens, premonitions, hauntings.

Are you having relationship trouble?

Have you been feeling lost in a big city? 

Have you felt the presence of your lost loved ones near you? 

When the veil between worlds is thin, we get closer than ever to the strange and the unexplained - but also to each other. Call in, get it off your chest. Lines are open.

[click] [voicemail:]

Hey, long time listener, first time caller. I don't really have a story. I just wanted to maybe ask a question. I recently moved, and I'm from the deep South, a very very small City, and I moved to a much bigger city far away. More people than I've ever really been around in my whole life, if I’m being honest. And if I'm being honest, I don't really have many friends here, and I've never felt more alone. But your voice is very comforting, and you seem so nice, and I'm - I guess I was wondering if we could be friends? That's all. Thank you. My name’s Adrian, by the way, and I hope that we can call each other friends. Thank you.

[click] 

Hi, caller, thank you for listening, and for picking up the phone to finally call in. I could use a friend, too, these days, even though sometimes it doesn’t feel like I remember how to be one, with all these gaps in the person that I used to be. But there are ways to introduce yourself even when you don’t know your own name, or where you came from. 

Hi, Adrian, I’m talking to you as all the people that I used to be, but forgot. I’m talking to you as myself. [searching music] I like Doritos, but I hate jerky. I love what I do, even when it’s hard, and I know that I’m heading somewhere, because I’m trying to do it. I love listening to these calls, and I love you, too. 

Everybody feels like this at the start of something new, even when it’s exciting. Everybody feels like this, but nobody feels it exactly like you do, right now, what you brought with you on purpose from where you came from and what you left behind, and what you tried to leave behind but brought with you, by accident, because you didn’t know how not to. 

You say you recently moved, and I want to tell you that time will help ease the loneliness, because I think that it will. But you’ll also have to do what you’ve done, right now, with me - reach out to somebody else. And you’ll have to do it over and over. But people will reach back. I promise. There will be a voice on the radio when you need it. And on your voicemail, and at work, and at the park, and in a hundred other places, too. 

And you’ll still feel that loneliness press up against you like the crowds do. You’ll bring that with you, too. That’s okay. There’s something in that feeling that tells us how to be human, too. I think I know that best of all. 

I’m so happy to call you my friend, Adrian - and I know so many other people will be, too. I know they already are. 

[click]

There is a crane fly somewhere in the garage , buzzing its large, ungainly body against the floorboards, the lights, when someone happens to turn them on. The crane fly, unlike the human, is a child its entire life - months or years - and an adult for just a few weeks. It will live in this garage for six more days. It will die on a shelf beside a dusty hammer without passing along its line. It will not consider this a failure because it does not know how. To a human being, it is a week’s nuisance. To the crane fly, it is everything. There is something beautiful in its spindly awkwardness, if you look. Please, notice it while you can. It won’t hurt you. Watch it fly. 

[crane fly buzzes]

[click] [footsteps crunching]

When you turn the corner onto your own street, tonight, the image strikes you like you’re seeing it for the first time, even though you’ve lived here for a while. You’ve seen this collection of buildings, the small tree fighting its way up, the signs in your neighbor’s window. But something about the way the moon shines over all of it, the wind stirring around your collar, makes you stop to look at it. [footsteps pause] To say, I'm going to take a picture here, in my mind, so I can remember it when I’ve left. The shadows across the street. The red brick. The cluster of irises growing… up -

The - 

Oh. Iris. [breath in] Iris… I know that name. I remember it.  

I don’t think it’s mine. But it’s somebody’s. Maybe a friend. 

[footsteps start again] [click]

Thank you for listening, callers, and thank you for calling, listeners. I hope you feel a little bit lighter. I know I do. As always, our number is 717.382.8093. That’s 717.382.8093. Until next time. I’ll be here.

[static] [Traveling Sales Rep: visit us at the - diner just off -] [Various Garbled Voices: the - road - provides - the - road - provides -]

Thin Places Radio is a podcast written by Kristen O’Neal and produced by Kaitlin Bruder. The voice of Your Host is Kristen O’Neal.

Tonight’s voicemail was left for us by Adrian. Editing and sound design are by Kaitlin Bruder, and the music tracks you heard in tonight’s episode are: the Thin Places theme, by Miles Morkri, and Umeed by RANA. If you have a question to ask, a story to tell, or a suggestion for the host, give us a call at ‪(717) 382-8093. The lines are always open.

[Thin Places Theme outro]

[websitesdepotla]

Podcasting In Public: Best Practices

Are you looking for more ways to create content that are actually going to get someone’s attention? Do you not have your own video production/podcasting studio? That doesn’t mean you’re precluded from podcasting, of course. Quite the opposite, in fact. Podcasting in public, something I do often for our company that specializes in omnichannel digital marketing and SEO services in Los Angeles.

If you’ve read any of my blogs here before, then you know the value of video recording what it is you do in the course of a given day. That means taking some video of people working in the office, of course, but also for those in a restaurant, factory, or anywhere else.

For context, when I say “podcasting outside,” I mean “filming a video with you and another person speaking to each other in hopes of creating content.” Below are some of the tips that I wish I had known before my first outdoor podcast.

The first time you record yourself talking to someone outside, it’s natural to want to hold the phone in your hand. It’s how you would take a selfie, a video with friends/family/etc. However, when it comes to your content for your business, you’re better off with a stand. It doesn’t have to be an enormous mic stand, even a small one is fine. What matters is that it will be far more stable than your hand, even if you’re holding your phone by the stand.

Often, what we’ll do here at Website Depot is ask someone to come to a particularly well-illuminated spot, put the tripod (or “sticks”) down, and go from there. But, we also may put the camera on a small tripod and just wave it around. Either way, that gives you enough of a solid foundation (both figuratively and literally) to make content.

Have Something to Give Specifically, have something to give your consumer as well as your guest.

For example, recently, we attended the Glendora Recovery Foundation Expo. It was a wonderful time. They were a client of ours, and we were able to support them while also meeting so many great new businesses, too. I did a lot of outdoor podcasting there, talking to different vendors about their businesses, etc.

Remember: when you make content, any content, whether it’s podcasts, videos, blogs, even social media posts, they can’t just be promotional in nature. The person watching has to be able to get something out of them.

So, I always made sure that the ones I did at that expo were informative. They taught folks about a new business, why they may want to check it out, how it could provide them with solutions, etc.

Of course, I make it entertaining, too. How? I ask the questions of the business owner that I would like answers to. My reasoning here is: if I have the question, someone watching will, too.

By that same token, have something for your guests, too. Our CEO and founder, Danny Star, told me everyone who podcasted with me we’d edit it for them, put it up, make sure to link them, so that folks see what it is that they have to offer.

Whether someone’s going to be on your podcast or consume your podcast, make sure that you have something to give them that they’re going to want.

Perfect Has Left the Building These don’t have to be “perfect.” They don’t have to be anything close. Indeed, trying too hard to make them seem “perfect” can have the opposite effect: they can make them less authentic.

When you’re podcasting with someone, particularly in an outdoor setting, where things might be a bit impromptu, you’re not looking for “perfect.” What you are looking for: authenticity. You want the other person to say something real, to establish a real human connection.

Why? Because that’s what people respond to. All of the slick production in the world isn’t worth one real authentic moment. That’s especially true for short-form podcasting, for Instagram Reels, TikTok, and the like.

That doesn’t mean that the person you’re talking to has to break down crying, telling the most vulnerable aspects of their life, etc. What it does mean is that you want the other person to say something true and honest, something that matters to them.

The good news is here that this is much simpler and easier than it sounds. As a professional in your field/industry, you have expertise. You know what the common person doesn’t. Share that. Put that in everything you do. That way, you’re always providing something real, real value, in everything that you put into the world.

Help With Omnichannel Digital Marketing and SEO Services in Los Angeles

Those are just some of the tips I’ve learned over the years from filming podcasts out in the world for Website Depot. There are many, many others, of course. But, as you may have noticed, many of those tips can work for content creation of all kinds, too. Whether you’re doing blogs, service pages, landing pages, and more, for example, you’re going to want that real authenticity, real solutions in them. Here at Website Depot, we can do a lot more than just outdoor podcasts (to say the very least). We create websites, pages, build up your social media following, protect your reputation, create content of all kinds, help you to rank for the keywords that matter to you, and so much more.

To see how we can help your company, schedule a free consultation with us through our site or by calling.

[inawickedlittletown]

Queerbaiting and Buddie

(word count: 1,900)

I keep saying that I don’t want to spend any more time on 9-1-1 meta or fic, but the events of this weekend made me open up a document where I had some unfinished meta and in light of the S4 finale airing tonight, I thought I might at least write this: 

“Queerbaiting is a marketing technique for fiction and entertainment in which creators hint at, but then do not actually depict, same-sex romance or other LGBTQ representation. They do so to attract a queer or straight ally audience with the suggestion of relationships or characters that appeal to them, while at the same time attempting to avoid alienating other consumers.” 

That is how Wikipedia defines queerbaiting. And I really feel like everyone needs to read that and then read it again and realize that what is happening on 9-1-1 with Buddie is NOT queerbaiting. 

I don’t want to go into the long history of queerbaiting because we would be here all day and anyone that wants to do some research should go and do so. There are a lot of resources out there. Use them. 

But the short of it is this: queerbaiting has a lot more to do with the way a show is promoted, with the way that anyone involved in the show talks about a queer ship, and with the show deliberately scripting scenes that hint at a relationship without any intention of following through. Expectations and wanting a queer ship to go canon and those expectations not being met do not alone equate to it being queerbaiting. 

For any of us that have been around a long time there are a lot of perfect examples and if you compare Buddie to any of them, they are very different. I’ll name a few:

Merlin/Arthur

John Watson/Sherlock

Emma Swan/Regina

Derek/Stiles

Castiel/Dean Winchester (though they did go canon...barely)

Lena/Kara

Buck and Eddie do not fit into that list. Which isn’t to say that someday they could belong there, but I just do not believe that they will even if Buddie never becomes canon. And this all lies in how Buddie as a ship has been treated both on screen and off. I’ll break it down by season. 

S2: 

Eddie is very clearly introduced as a new character, a straight Army veteran with a disabled kid and family drama. He and Buck have immediate chemistry. We can’t deny that, or deny that from that first episode there are immediate sparks. Unintended sparks, but sparks nevertheless. And it is easy to tell that no one on the production team expected that and the story reflects that. 

Yes a foundation for their friendship is formed and yet the season long story focuses on Eddie’s relationship with his estranged wife and Buck is dealing with his own growth after being left by Abby. Their friendship shines and their scenes are great but none of them suggest romance and there are actually a lot of episodes where Buck and Eddie barely interact in S2 aside from in the background or for small work related moments (this mostly happens after Shannon returns). 

S2 does give us the first acknowledgement from the powers that be aka Tim Minear that they know what the fans have seen. This is why the elf scene exists, but it exists in a space where it’s a nod to the fans and not meant to do much more than that. The other moment is during the call with the livestreamer. But S2, places them completely and without question on a strong friendship. 

S3: 

We see a lot more conflict for Buck and Eddie in this season and we see how close and important they are to each other. Those are the two main things. That can be read as friendship easily and it’s a season where both Buck and Eddie deal with their pasts and in one way or another start to get closure while their friendship remains intact. 

Yes there are some scenes that make us squint and go huh, wtf? (I’m looking at you kitchen scene), but narratively we also know that neither of these boys is ready for a real relationship with anyone, let alone each other. But we can bask in how close they are as well as how Christopher fits in into all of it. 

But in S3 we are also introduced to Ana and we see the return of Abby. We also get to see that Buck and Eddie have become closer than ever and that the lawsuit only serves to highlight the importance that they both feel about having the other available to them. I’ll also quickly mention that Eddie Begins worked hard to highlight Buck’s devotion to Eddie. 

S4: 

Without considering the events of the finale (I am avoiding spoilers and know nothing about it or the speculation), we’ve seen Buck and Eddie both grow and get further closure on their past. This season has paralleled them well and their friendship has not faltered, they’re as close as ever. 

The beginning of the season was heavily focused on Buck and we saw him grow as a person and begin to work on himself in a healthy way and we’ve seen Eddie be supportive of that. 

We also have Ana to consider and her relationship with Eddie as well as the return of Taylor and yet the appearance of these women has not changed the Buck and Eddie dynamic. And I find it fascinating that Eddie beginning to date Ana, is the thing that prompted Buck to start dating. The parallels are all over the place but it is the strength of the friendship and the way they care so deeply about each other that remains whether that becomes romantic is still to be seen, but it could still go either way.  

Off-screen by the end of S2, Tim Minear had already addressed Buddie by throwing in that elf scene in a wink/nudge fashion that said “I see you” and in the scene with the girl with the livestream with the comments. During S3 he tweeted about being frustrated by the fans demanding and being hostile and thinking that that would make him more likely to do what they want (I’m paraphrasing what I remember seeing). Tim has never once said that Buddie will happen or shut the door on the ship entirely, but he did say he did not want to engage in conversation about it because he doesn’t want to get into arguments with fans. 

Oliver has always been enthusiastic about Buddie and has even said that he would be perfectly fine with it happening both a while ago and more recently in promo for S4. Conscious of queerbaiting and not wanting to give fans false hope, he has specifically said that he does not know if it will or won’t happen and that he wouldn’t speak on that as he’s not the one making that decision. His support for it happening does not mean he has any sway one way or the other. He’s said this a few times and even wrote a letter to the effect to make it clear to fans that the last thing he wants is to disappoint someone due to something he’s said. 

All in all, it just isn’t a constructive environment for anyone working on the show to interact with fans on this topic because any time that they do, they get attacked by overly enthusiastic buddie shippers that in many ways are making everything worse. 

In all of the interviews from Tim that I’ve seen, he has always been very quick to hint at what was coming up on the show in a way that at times has been misleading on purpose. The number one thing that comes to mind is early in S4 where Buck was said to get a new woman in his life. Tim absolutely made it out to seem like it was a girlfriend while knowing fully well that it was a therapist. This is an excellent example of what promoting and hinting is actually like. No one from this show has done that in regards to Buddie. 

No one has gone out of their way to hint that it may happen in a way that excites the fans. And this is one of my main reasons for knowing that Buddie is not a queerbait. At no point in the life of the show so far has anyone used Buddie in a promotional way to bring in viewers. Because THAT was the whole point of queerbaiting in the past. 

It was a way that some showrunners found to bring in a lot of viewers when they needed to up their numbers in order to show networks they were worth keeping around. Someone figured out that LGBTQ people wanted to see themselves represented so much so that they would tune in to anything that promised an LGBTQ character in some fashion. It was a tactic that worked well in the landscape of tv where there was so little LGBTQ content on mainstream media that anyone wanting it would latch onto anything. And then they just wouldn’t deliver on those relationships or characters. In 2021, that is not the world we live in any longer. 

In today’s tv landscape there is so much to watch and so much to pick from and diversity has grown, it is celebrated. Queer characters are well represented as are queer relationships and queer stories. The times are different. A while back I was listening to a podcast (Bait: a queerbaiting podcast) and something I found interesting was how the hosts both agreed that in today’s tv landscape there is no more real queerbait and that we won’t easily find anything like the ships I mentioned above. I think I agree more with this than I expected to, because I do think that it exists in some spaces, but it definitely isn’t what it used to be. This is a good thing. 

Specific to 9-1-1, this is a show that has that diversity and that isn’t afraid of tackling that diversity and giving us interesting and nuanced perspectives and stories embracing that. We have characters of color, women in positions of power, a F/F relationship, two multi-racial relationships, a disabled character, other queer characters including a M/M relationship. There is so much in this show that embraces diversity and that embraces the reality of what the world looks like. To call it queerbait is to disrespect everything else that this show is and has done and the hard storylines that have been tackled that we would not have seen on tv ten years ago. 

And I get that Buddie would be another breakthrough. It would be a novel way to tell a queer story, and it would be amazing if it were to happen. The set up is there, but it isn’t fully realized, and Buck and Eddie can still be read as just friends if we take off the shipping goggles. But it also isn’t queerbait or likely to become queerbait and people have to stop calling it that. 

What Buddie resembles is one of the many unintended slow burn ships that have frustrated viewers in many forms across fandoms and we just have to go along for the ride and maybe it will happen. Or maybe it won’t. But if we know anything about relationships on tv, it is that a lot of the fun comes from the journey, even if the destination is good too. 

[rainy-circle]

Fan Fic Writer 20 Questions

I was tagged by @unmaskedcardinal! Aw yissss I love these thank you! Putting this under a cut because I never shut up on ask memes, sorry

How many works do you have on Ao3?

Just 10! And at least uh... 6? Of those are drabbles or shorter fics. It probably should be 11, because years ago I deleted an unfinished fic, not because I didn't like it anymore or was ashamed of it, but just because it was unfinished. But we'll talk about that more later I think.

What's your total Ao3 word count?

63,621. Not bad, I suppose.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

On AO3, only 4, but more than that, I assure you. On AO3 it's Overwatch, Rise of the Guardians, The Adventure Zone, and Legend of Zelda. But during high school I wrote a LOT of Kingdom Hearts fic, and before that I wrote some Avatar: The Last Airbender fic. And there have been various little oneshots or drabbles in assorted other fandoms, but those are the big ones!

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Gonna do it in countdown mode because that's fun:

5: Familiarity, a collection of Bunnymund/Toothiana drabbles that originated as my answers for them for a domesticity meme. I'm actually pretty surprised this is within the top 5, haha!

4: Costume Change, a short Symmetra/Pharah drabble I wrote for @5idestuff once upon a time!! The two of them being flirty cuties at a Halloween party.

3: Triptych, a 3-part D.Va/Lucio/Junkrat soulmate AU fic! Only 2/3 done unfortunately. The first part is how the three of them meet and the second part is how the three of them come together, learn more about each other, and how their ideals clash. The third part if I ever finish it will be... well, it's hard to really say without spoiling stuff but it'll be essentially how they come back together and reconcile.

2: Old Habits, a very (currently) unfinished attempt at making a Symmetra/Genji slow-burn long fic that's also a globe-trotting adventure that emphasizes platonic relationships. I absolutely know how it ends, and I have a LOT of scattered ideas of what happens in-between where I left off and there, but I don't know the exact ORDER it all goes in. And also, Blizzard sort of took a big ol' dump on my enthusiasm for Overwatch related things but fuck do I still love this ship, haha.

1: Heart to Heart to Heart, a The Adventure Zone: Balance kind of 'missing scene' fic about Tres Horny Bois being each other's found family and BEST FRANNNNDS 4 LYFE. I'm actually really happy that my most highly kudos'd fic is the one about the totally platonic/familial relationship. Don’t read unless you’ve finished listening to The Eleventh Hour arc of the podcast.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

ABSOLUTELY I DO. It can take me months but I just gotta thank people for taking the time to write something. (also, you can make friends through commenting on fic. Take it from me and my bestie of 10+ years.

What's the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Overall? Probably some of my Kingdom Hearts fics from back when I was a teenager and I apparently hadn’t figured out Everyone Lives/No One Dies AUs existed yet. But in terms of what's on AO3, I'd say where Triptych is right now (end of chapter 2) is probably the angstiest.

Do you write crossovers?

Kiiiiiiind of? I mean, Kingdom Hearts is a giant Disney-Final Fantasy crossover, and I think it greatly influenced my taste in crossovers. It think I can only really write fic for it if a) the original canons take place in similar enough settings or b) it's complete crack and I'm not taking it seriously at all.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate, to the best of my memory, but I remember I once got a probably like... overly harshly critical comment on an A:TLA fic way back in the day when I was like a very young teen. And someone being like "um actually I do NOT like this extremely self-indulgent crack ship of yours and preferred THIS OTHER one you wrote."

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Only in VERY rare and occasional circumstances. I kind of jokingly call myself demi-smutual, in that I need to be very emotionally attached to a ship to write porn of them. And uhh... what kind? Not sure what that means exactly, but I'd probably say I'm only capable of writing what I've seen called 'safe, sane, and consensual'. And I will almost certainly be too embarrassed to post it publicly SORRY Y'ALL.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not.........exactly I don't think? I seem to remember back in my FF.net days checking if a crackship I had in the Twilight fandom (TWILIGHT of all things y'all) had any fics besides mine, and there was a drabble that I think used some of the same... phrasing as mine? It was weird. I could probably look it up to see if it's still there, but I'm too lazy for that.

There was one time on Livejournal when I remember someone used a lot of the same songs as I did on a fanmix in the same fandom as me, but I was even more allergic to confrontation back then than I am now, and I probably figured "well I can't PROOOVE they copied me! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯"

Luckily no straight up word-for-word plagiarism, as far as I know.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No! I'd be honoured if it ever happens though.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really! Triptych is connected to the same fic universe (ficverse?) as a couple of @noirsongbird‘s soulmate Overwatch fics, but we didn't cowrite any of it, other than like, checking that they're canon to each other sorta!!!!

What’s your all time favourite ship?

Honestly my go-to answer for this question is Okikurmi/Amaterasu from Okami, but I've never really written fic for them!

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

The mysterious 11th work that I mentioned earlier was a Bunnymund/Toothiana slowburn fic that was basically me taking what I knew of the book lore from what I'd read on the internet and transferring it into the world of the movie, but I eventually decided I didn't really want to trust just internet summaries and would want to read the books myself. Ever since then I've thought maybe I would return to it if I ever actually read the books, but that hasn't happened yet! Although... I have been sort of blanking on anything for my Christmas list. I, a 30 year old woman, can ask for a series of children's novels for Christmas right??? Maybe? Anyway.

What are your writing strengths?

Fuck. Shit. UHHH. My inner critic always makes this and the weaknesses question difficult. But I'm going to go with characterization. I've been cursed to fall in love with incredibly minor characters since I was at LEAST 12, and been making up their personalities and backstories whole cloth for them. I just really enjoy thinking about characters and what they are consistent about and what they are more flexible about! Thinking about their interactions and shit.

What are your writing weaknesses?

UHH. SHIT. Fuck. Does confidence, or rather, lack thereof, count? Sometimes, especially recently, I think I just overthink too much while I'm writing and get worried about like... "have I used said to many times. has this character smiled and nodded too many times. this is probably so BLAND". I used to be a lot more confident as a teenager but that was probably at least partially due to the fact that all teenagers are at least a little stupid. (If you are a teenager and you reading this, it's true. You'll realize it eventually. Hopefully.)

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

Not sure what this question means, exactly? Like, writing a character sometimes saying dialogue in another language? If a character is canonically bilingual, I imagine it only makes sense for the character to sometimes shift languages, especially if they aren't thinking about what's coming out of their mouth. I think I've only done it recently in a couple of Overwatch fics, and they're generally short phrases of greeting, or in one case a prayer. Idk, I think it's fine, but like most things in writing, be careful not to overuse it.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

I think it was Neopets!

What’s your favourite fic you’ve ever written?

There's actually a couple of Kingdom Hearts fics from my Livejournal days that spring immediately to mind. I haven't reread them in years but just the process of writing and finishing them was something I was very proud of. In terms of what's on my AO3, Heart to Heart to Heart is probably my favourite - it came out pretty much exactly as it was in my head. I'm also really fond of at least the first three chapters of Old Habits. The fourth is okay, but in my mind it's very clearly written after my enthusiasm for Blizzard and thus Overwatch waned. idk maybe it's just me!!

Who do you tag?

LET'S SEE: @noirsongbird @5idestuff @trilies @beamkatanachronicles @snyland @my1stgirlfriendturnedintothemoon OBVIOUSLY you don’t need to do it if you don’t want to but if you feel like it!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

*busts in the door* ANTONI SUFFERING PROMPTS? may I offer any combo of 8: pour salt in my muse’s wound(s), 5: drug my muse, and/or 23: trip my muse for my favorite ashtray 😍

One Two Three Four Five

CW: Burns, salt in wound, cigarette smoking, internal and external dehumanization, pet whump, emeto mention

"Sssshhhh." His whimpers have gotten too loud again, and there's a hand in his hair, rough petting that feels more like another kind of violence, opening new wounds. It's Quiet One crouched in front of him, head tilted, eyes sparkling in the graying darkness as dawn comes closer and closer. "Hold still. There we go. Good boy."

A shiver of pleasure runs down his spine, the simple pure sense of doing what he is trained to do, made to do. Made for, what he wanted, to make up for whatever sins are buried deep inside his ruined memory.

"How do you know all this shit, anyway? Not just the movie. They didn't get into half this shit in the movie." Deep-Voice is back in the wrecked kitchen, going through cabinets with doors that hang off broken hinges.

The ashtray is in what was the living room, his hands tied behind him with his own t-shirt, ripped to long strips. He's sweating, even in the chilly empty room, sitting up but slumped over. They've tied one bit of his shirt around his neck with a little bow.

A droplet of sweat runs down his collarbone, dips over his chest, finds a new burn and the ashtray hisses, biting on his lower lip to kill the sound until he feels blood burst free of him again. How many times has he bitten his lip tonight?

Lookout sits over by the front door, miraculously still intact right down to its frosted glass panels. He keeps looking outside and then back, chain-smoking, one cigarette after another even after his face seems green around the edges. There are five from him, five new circles of pain for the ashtray to focus on.

Three with his eyes sparkling, two with a growing uncertainty. Then Lookout went and threw up outside in the bushes someone had once carefully landscaped along the front of the house. He had to be convinced to stop panicking over DNA, Quiet One had to lecture him on not listening to the fucking true crime podcasts any longer.

They're not gonna test your goddamn puke, asshole. Besides, does that look like somebody who's gonna call a fucking detective? Get back in here.

Now Lookout sits by the door, and the butts of the cigarettes he has already finished lay scattered around his shoes.

"My uncle," Quiet One says, using the ashtray's hair to lift his head again, looking over the glazed, empty obedience written alongside the suffering, worn openly on his face. "Works for WRU. They're not supposed to talk about it, sign like the world's most ironclad NDA, but he tells me stories sometimes."

"Ron?" That's Lookout, voice shaking. He looks like he wants to throw up again. The ashtray blinks at him, dazedly. How can he look sick when the ashtray is the one whose skin is burning for his crimes? "Ron works for-"

"Hey! What the fuck did I say about names?" Quiet One rolls his eyes. Deep Voice comes back in, shoes crunching on glass and rocks and bits of crumpled paper and everything else that's been dragged in here over time. He crouches next to Quiet One, holding out a thick cylindrical... something.

The ashtray's eyes can't focus enough to understand.

"Look what I found," Deep Voice says, softly.

Quiet One grins. "Oh, yeah. Do it, man."

Deep Voice flips open a little metal thing along the cylinder's lid, and the ashtray's eyebrows furrow, confused. His thoughts move slowly, fighting through deep water.

He realizes what it is just as Deep Voice tips the canister of salt and pours it over the new constellation they've made on his stomach, reaching out with his other hand to rub circles, pressing the grit deeply into the burns.

The ashtray's back arches, every muscle locked, choked sounds coming from a throat that won't open enough for a scream. Quiet One keeps a hand in his hair to hold him still, watching with bright avid eyes, glittering with fascination as he looks at the veins in the ashtray's neck standing out, the blood smeared along his chin from his lower lip.

"Jesus Christ," Quiet One says, softly. "You're fucking gorgeous, buddy, you know that?"

"What if he gets, like, infected from this?" Lookout asks, hands shaking so hard he drops the lighter when he tries to light up again. "And like. Dies?"

"What if he does?" Quiet One shrugs one shoulder. "Sucks to be him, then, I guess." His eyes move over the ashtray's face, watching with intensity as Deep Voice pours salt on another set of burns, listening to the ashtray's hitched sobs, watching the tears track through dirt down his cheeks. "Fuck, man. Those cheekbones. I can see why some old fucking perv wanted you."

It wasn't for his cheekbones. The ashtray would tell them if he could remember how to speak. It was for his crimes, it was because he had done something so terrible he would give anything to escape it. It was because he had to pay for what he'd done. It was because-

Abruptly, Quiet One lets go of his hair, letting his head fall back down, chin nearly to his chest. "Hey. Get over here with the lighter, man."

"Why?"

"I want to do one more. I'm tired, I want to go to bed. Come on."

The ashtray catches Lookout's soft oh thank god as he gets to his feet and shuffles over, dropping the pack of cigarettes and the lighter into Quiet One's waiting hands.

"What the fuck, dude?"

"What?"

"You smoked like the whole damn pack! This shit costs money, you fucking baby."

"Fuck off, I'll buy you more. Just. Finish it up, I want to go home, too." Lookout looks away, out the broken windows towards the street. "People're gonna be fucking waking up soon. Let's get out of here."

"Yeah, yeah. Asshole."

Quiet One turns back to him, using one finger to tip his chin up, almost gently. The ashtray looks back at him, blank but for the pain. It fills his body, the throb of each individual new mark joining the itching aches of the old. The oldest scars are so faint they hardly mar his skin, the newest are bright red burns, skin buckling and bubbling under heat it isn't made to withstand.

"Pozhaluysta," He whispers, lips barely moving. "Pozhaluysta, Mr. Davies, ostanovites'."

"Mmmn. That's Russian, isn't it? Sexy. One more, pet. Think you can handle one more burn for me? Take it quiet and we'll leave. Can you do that for me?"

The ashtray nods, frantically, in desperate need for it to end. He can go back to his room, with the bars on the windows, and sing himself to sleep. He can go back to his room.

"Good boy."

The ashtray stares at the little red circle of light as the cigarette is lit, the flickering flame. The click of the lighter as it shuts again, the smoke blown into his face. Familiar and wrong, this smoke is bitter and acrid and Mr. Davies always smelled sweet and almost herbal when he smoked, the deep clove smell in the ashtray's clothes, his hair, lingering on his skin.

They untie his hands from behind his back and the bow from his neck, Quiet One rubbing at the deep red marks left behind, thumb moving back and forth over the ashtray's Adam's apple, breathing softly. "Shit. God, I wish I had one of these for mine."

"Well, unless you discover a shitload of money, you'd just be stealing. Or... like, committing a bunch of fucking felonies."

"Yeah, yeah. If I clean up a bit I bet my uncle could get me in at WRU. I heard they have a handler there who fucking killed like four people before he got the job."

"Jesus Christ, dude, seriously?"

"Yeah. Peters or something. My uncle doesn't fuck with him. Nobody does. Said he's fucking gross but he gets Employee of the Month like all the time. I could be gross for money."

"Man, who wouldn't be gross for money."

"Ha, right? All right, let's finish this shit up." Quiet One sighs, looking back at the ashtray. "You were a good fucking time, man. Enjoyed the hell out of this. Here we go. Stay quiet for me now."

Quiet One presses the cigarette into the inside of the ashtray's wrist, right in the center of his barcode, the one place that Mr. Davies never touched.

The ashtray bites his lip until it bleeds, whining deep in his throat as new tears fall, but he doesn't scream. He's quiet.

He's good.

He can be good.

"There we go." A ruffle to his hair and Quiet One stands, Deep Voice following almost immediately. Quiet One relights his cigarette and walks to the door, where Lookout moves outside before them.

Quiet One is the last to leave, looking over his shoulder at the ashtray still sitting on the ground, slumped over, in the ruined house. He lifts up his cell phone, turns on flash, and takes a photo.

The ashtray flinches at a sudden blinding light he barely registers as what it is, and Quiet One and Deep Voice laugh.

Lookout is already out by the street, bouncing on his toes, looking back and forth like he expects sirens any second.

"Maybe we'll see you again sometime," Quiet One says, and then they leave, their voices and laughter fading along with the crunch of gravel under their shoes, until the only sound left is the ashtray's ragged, uneven breathing.

He doesn't know when he gets to his feet, or how. He pulls the sweatshirt back on and leaves the shreds of his t-shirt behind. The front door is open, and when he stumbles outside, the sky is pink along the edges of the horizon.

The ashtray moves down the sidewalk, and he doesn't know where he's going, or what he'll do when he gets there.

He ends up standing, swaying a little, next to a stop sign in a place that looks familiar but he doesn't know at all. The pre-dawn light has everything slightly eerie and unsettled in his mind, shapes crashing into each other, puzzle pieces that don't quite fit.

A hand touches his back and he spins around with a gasp, staring down in terror at a short elderly woman with dark brown skin and thick hair a blend of silvery white and black pulled no-nonsense at the nape of her neck.

She looks up at him, her own eyebrows knitted. "I said good morning. Did you hear-" She goes quiet, and her eyes move over his face with too much understanding.

She knows.

Everyone knows what he is. Everyone has always known. It was a mistake to believe he could be safe anywhere outside the four walls of Nat's home. It was a mistake to think he could build a life that might involve leaving here, living on his own.

Everyone will always know.

Antoni swallows, and shudders as it makes the fresh burn on his throat ache and throb in reminder. He struggles to move his mouth to speak. "M-... Miss Ruth. D-Dobroye utro."

He realizes only then that his sweatshirt is still unzipped, and she can see the line of scars, the new burns and old, and heat rushes to his cheeks underneath the dirt already caking them.

"Oh, honey. What happened to you?" Ruth's voice is low, and she looks to one side, and then the other. Then she sighs and steps back, gesturing. "Come on inside my house, sweetheart. Just me this week, no one else to bother us. Let me patch you up, your people are still sleeping no doubt."

His people.

He is safe with his people, inside the house. But he has never been safe when he leaves. It is too easy to read what he is in every inch of his skin.

"Spasibo," He whispers as he follows her up the steps.

[flameoutfics]

We’re Only Young and Naive Still Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Nora was scratched against Detroit which wasn’t a surprise. She hadn’t had a stellar debut and she hadn’t curried favor with Sutter, but the press had taken her first game and run with it. Everyone had told her to stay off of the internet and to not read articles about herself, but it was hard to ignore the things that popped up on her Twitter feed. There were already some reporters who asked to interview her and there were even a few names that she recognized and wouldn’t mind interviewing with. She had listened to Steve Dangle’s podcast on her morning commute to college occasionally and thought he’d been fair in his assessments. She didn’t think that he’d take cheap shots at her or try to make her uncomfortable. 

She also knew though that the publicity that was being offered to her was something that some athletes worked their entire lives for. Maybe if it was different, if she was naturally talented in the way that Sidney Crosby or Connor McDavid were, the attention would be warranted, but she was just a novelty. So for the moment, Nora politely declined the interviews with the canned rejection that she wanted to focus on contributing to the team and that she would consider at a later time. 

She was on the practice squad for the scrimmage before the game clad in a white jersey with some of the other two-way players skating on the ice against the permanent Flames and halfway through practice, she was already exhausted and soaked in sweat. “Tired, Hallisay?” 

“I’m fine,” Nora said and skated back to the ice with renewed resolve. 

“Take the face off,” Sutter yelled and Nora paired off against Matthew Tkachuk. Off ice he was just aloof but on ice, he was ferocious. He was the type of player that teams hated playing against and everyone wanted on their team. He glared at her from across the face-off circle, his cold, blue eyes almost wild as their coach approached them with the puck. Nora reacted just a split second faster to pass the puck over to Jusso for the break-away. The play was called off and everyone reset with new players at the face-off.

“Lucky,” Matthew said.

“Had nothing to do with luck,” Nora replied. 

“It won’t happen again,” Matthew said, but there was a lightness in his voice. 

“We’ll see,” Nora said, knowing that the odds of her squaring off against Matthew would be few and far in between. She was a fourth-liner at best; he was on the first line. As practice wrapped up, Nora skated to the bench and grabbed some Gatorade. Some of the guys headed straight to the locker room, but Nora lingered rink side. 

“You coming?” one of the trainers asked.

“I’m going to stick around here a little longer,” Nora said, “I want to get in a little more practice.”

“They won’t let you stay too long,” the trainer warned.

“I’ll take what I can get,” Nora said. She skated back on the ice and worked on puck-handling drills. She wished she had the hands of Pavel Datsyuk, but she didn’t. It was never her strong suit on the ice. 

“Move your top hand more, it’ll give you better control” a voice called behind the bench. 

Nora stopped for a moment and glanced over to where the voice was coming from. A small group of players, already showered and changed, watched. 

“Move your hand more,” Matthew repeated, gesturing with his own hand.

Nora shifted her hands to match his, “Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s what they teach you when you’re eight,” Matthew said. 

Nora saw red. Matthew could fuck off. “Well, we don’t all have dads who can get us on the best junior teams.”

A couple of the guys chuckled, but Matthew’s jaw clenched and his face turned red. Nora felt her stomach sink as the barb landed exactly where she anticipated. If things were different, Nora would have been contrite and even as it was, she didn’t like to be the type of person that made other people feel bad, but she wasn’t just going to roll over and take it either. She knew she didn’t have the same hockey knowledge that the other players did. They had had some of the best coaches, had had the time to play for hours after school, and had had opportunities that she couldn’t have dreamed of. So yeah, they didn’t have the same background, but she had worked her way to where she was, and she deserved to be there no matter what anyone else said. 

After they left, she redid the drill following Matthew’s advice. It was better; he was right. Nora gritted her teeth and did it again and again, adjusting her grip when she noticed herself slipping into her old routine. “Fuck,” Nora murmured. 

“You have to go,” the zamboni driver said as he waited for her to get off the ice.  

“Sorry,” Nora said sheepishly and skated towards the locker room. Everyone was already gone by the time she was ready to leave the rink. 

She pulled out her phone and followed the map back to the hotel. A few blocks away from the hotel, a text message popped up on her phone. 

From Liam: Congrats on your debut. 

Nora smiled and pocketed her phone away to respond to him later. She made a mental note to text him back later. 

“A few of us are playing FIFA later, if you want to join?” Mikael said as he caught her coming out of the elevator.

Nora smiled slightly, grateful for the invitation, “Whose room?” 

“Don’t know yet, but it’ll be in the group chat.”

“I’ll be there,” Nora promised. She headed to her room, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled up the text that Liam had sent her. Thanks, you watched?

Liam’s response was almost immediate: I saw the highlights. How are things with the team? 

Nora wanted to tell him everything, she wanted to say how hard it was, how Sutter didn’t want her there, and the team didn’t want her there, and how all she wanted to do was go home. But she didn’t. Instead she typed out, I kind of fucked up with a teammate today. 

Liam wrote back, You’ll make the right decision, you always do.

Nora sighed. 

As promised, the open invitation in the group chat said they were planning on playing FIFA in Rasmus’s room in fifteen minutes and Nora showed up just a few minutes afterwards. 

“Are you any good?” Milan asked.

“I’m horrible at video games,” Nora said. 

“You’re on their team, then,” Milan said as he nodded over to the other half of the room.

Nora glanced over at Matthew who had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, still looking as pissed off as he had at the rink. 

“I think I’m gonna leave,” Matthew said, despite protests from their teammates. Nora couldn’t help but feel as though it was a reaction to her joining, a remnant from their fight at the rink. 

She remembered what Liam had sent her, “You’ll make the right decision, you always do,” and she knew what she’d have to do.  

After a few rounds of watching them play FIFA, Nora stood up to leave. 

“You know where Matthew’s room is?” she asked Elias as a new game was getting set up.

“I think he’s 219,” Elias replied. 

“Thanks.”

Nora talked herself into going over to Matthew’s room. She sighed and knocked on the door, hoping that he would already be asleep or in the shower. Instead, though, Matthew opened the door and glared at her. 

“Can we talk?” Nora asked. Matthew didn’t answer, but instead pushed the door open and made way for her to come in. 

“I’m sorry, for what I said at the rink. That wasn’t fair and it wasn’t true. You worked hard to be here and it wasn’t right for me to imply that it was because of who your father is or who your family is, so I’m sorry about it. And...you were right,” Nora said, “About my hands, it’s better your way.”

There was a long pause, “This is where you would usually apologize, too.”

“Why should I? I was just trying to help,” Matthew said. 

“No, you weren’t,” Nora said, “You were trying to humiliate me.”

“What’s your problem?” Matthew said, “Why do you think we’re all out to get you or something?”

Nora paused for a moment, “I know you don’t want me here. I know most of the guys don’t want me here, and that’s fine, but it’s hard not to think that way when you know otherwise.”

“What do you mean we don’t want you here?” Matthew asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Did someone say something?” 

Nora pulled out her phone and scrolled through the group chat to the incriminating messages, “You did.” She held out the phone for Matthew to read the messages. 

His eyes widened in recognition and he went to apologize, but Nora held out her hand, “Don’t. It is what it is, but I know, so don’t play dumb. And I don’t expect us to be friends or even like each other, I don’t care about that, but I deserved better than that and I don’t deserve the type of comments that you made at practice either.”

Matthew didn’t say anything and to be honest, Nora wasn’t sure if there was anything left to clear the air, “See you tomorrow then.”

She headed back to her room and saw another message from Liam, Do you need to talk?

No, I’m good, but thanks, good night Li.

Nora had woken up before they were scheduled for breakfast and she looked on her phone for a local coffee shop to try before they were set to leave Detroit. She headed to a small, locally owned one just a few blocks from the hotel that they had passed in transit and ordered a vanilla latte. She grabbed a table towards the back and pulled up some of the NHL highlights 

“Can I join you?” A familiar voice asked and Nora glanced up to find Matthew Tkachuk awkwardly standing in front of her with a cup of coffee. 

“Were you following me?” Nora asked. 

“No, yes, but I was hoping we could talk,” Matthew said. 

“I don’t think there’s anything more to say,” Nora said, “I said everything I wanted to last night.”

“I didn’t,” Matthew said, “Can I?” he gestured to the empty chair across from her and Nora shrugged. 

“Is this a conversation that we should have here?” Nora asked.

“There aren’t too many people here and it’s better here than in the hotel, I guess,” Matthew said. 

“Okay,” Nora said. 

“I’m sorry for what I said at the rink yesterday and, more importantly, for what you saw in the group chat,” Matthew said, “You were right, you didn’t deserve that and we should have made more of an effort to make you feel welcome and to treat you like one of the guys.”

“I’m not one of ‘the guys’, though, and I’m not trying to be,” Nora said, “Things are different with me and I can’t help that.”

“I know, I didn’t mean it like that,” Matthew said. 

“I know how you meant it,” Nora said, “And I appreciate your apology.”

Matthew outstretched his hand, “Let’s start over?” 

Nora eyed up his hand, but shook it, “Sure. We better start heading back to the hotel anyways.” 

“What are you drinking by the way?” Matthew asked.

“A vanilla latte,” Nora said, “Why?” 

“In case I need to know for future apologies,” Matthew said. 

“Let’s hope not,” Nora said with a small smile.

[ladykissingfish]

Driving with the Akatsuki

Itachi

Driving with this guy is ... nerve-wracking, to say the very least. It’s not as though he’s a reckless automobile operator; he observes all the laws of traffic, the radio is at a reasonable volume ((he’s the type to listen to podcasts rather than music)), he follows the speed limits, he actually slows down at a yellow light — but it’s the near-misses that are daunting. The just barely stopping in time before hitting the old lady crossing the street. The running up on the curb while parking. And then there was that incident with the tree — Itachi legally has to wear glasses when driving, but his passengers often wonder whether the glasses actually HELP him. Even with them on, he squints A LOT. And only someone with nerves of absolute steel, like Kisame or Kakuzu, will be in a car with him at night. However he is with driving, one thing he’s not blind in, is his car’s cleanliness. Will make passengers wipe feet before getting in, and after everyone is gone he’ll carefully scour the seats to remove even the faintest trace of lint or gum wrappers or any disturbance at all. Can be a bit of a “mom” driver; a holdover from his teenage years of constantly having to chauffeur around his younger brother and his brother’s rambunctious friends.

Kakuzu

Anyone getting into a vehicle with Kakuzu is in for a surprise. 91 years old? Surely he drives slow and steady, like a typical little old man, right? WRONG. Kakuzu is a goddamn speed-demon. He barrels down streets, he flies through intersections. Not many know this about him, but he was very much into drag-racing as a (much) young(er) man, and his current proclivity for quickness is a holdover from those days. Luck always seems to be on his side, as he’s gotten caught/received speeding tickets far less than he deserves. To make matters scarier, Kakuzu’s radio system has been broken for two years (and of course he’s too cheap to get it fixed), and the back left window doesn’t roll up to the top; so the only sound his passengers will hear is the wind rushing past the glass and Kakuzu’s deep, sinister chuckles as he sees other drivers (and pedestrians) scramble to get out of his way. Also, unless you’re a CLOSE-close friend, don’t expect a ride from him unless you have gas money.

Deidara

In all honesty, the blonde prefers to be the passenger rather than the driver, even in his own car. He gets his best inspirations for future art pieces when he’s traveling around, and it’s hard to pick up a sketch book when you need to be paying attention to the road. When he does have to be behind the wheel himself, he’s a fairly average driver. His passengers are always at risk of a case of auditory whiplash, as Deidara’s (loudly played) music tastes switch from one extreme to the other; and the guy isn’t exactly shy about singing along to his favorites. He’s also one of those eat-on-the-go guys, and his backseat will almost always be buried under a myriad of candy wrappers, empty plastic soda bottles and discarded burger wrappers. In the summer he prefers the wild and free feeling of having all the windows down, rather than turning the AC on, and he’ll have to remember to firmly tie up his long hair and keep it from blowing in his eyes or else everyone in the car will be taking an unscheduled trip into the nearest tree.

Zetsu

His car always has that calm, natural, “special plant” scent to it. The kind of smell that causes a panic when Zetsu sees a police officer anywhere in the area. A very relaxed driver; seat almost all the way back, one hand barely on the steering wheel. Obeys the speed limit but can put the pedal to the metal when in a hurry. Likes to listen to mostly reggae or jazz, and taps his fingers on he dashboard along to the beat. Water-bottle hoarder; has at least 1000 plastic water bottles, in varying staging of fullness, all over the front and back seats. The type to keep driving around the block until the song ends. Also the type to have really deep conversations with his passengers, and drive them out to really far away and scenic locations.

Hidan

If you have somewhere important to go, and need a ride, it’s best not to ask Hidan. He is the sort who always insists he knows a shortcut or a quicker route to every destination ... and ends up hopelessly lost. Can’t read a map to save his life and for some reason won’t trust a car’s gps system to guide him ((has some pretty crazy conspiracy theories about the voice behind the system)). Easily distracted by any and everything (both inside and outside of car), which makes being his passenger a bit daunting. Like Kakuzu, is a very fast driver, but infinitely more cautious as he has a LOT of tickets wracked up and isn’t looking to add more.

Really loves Led Zeppelin and Johnny Cash; has a visor full of those CD’s and will play those rather than listen to the radio. Also has a butt-load of swear word laden and inappropriate humor bumper stickers.

Pein

Who needs a car when motorcycles exist? This guy has a classic hog that he keeps in mint condition, that he rides around wherever he goes. Every year he’ll try and convince his close friends to ditch their boring cars for something more sublime, only to be met sure emphatic No’s each time. Is very protective over his baby and will go ballistic over even the tiniest nick or scrape. Drives at a normal speed when by himself, but will drive just a bit faster when carting around a friend (especially if it’s a female friend). Doesn’t really like to wear a helmet himself but will insist on any passengers putting one on. Prefers the quiet of the open road but if in a musical mood it’s always 80’s hair bands; a lot of Def Leppard, Quiet Riot, Van Halen. Can do a variety of tricks on his bike but doesn’t do them often as he doesn’t like to “mess up” his baby any more than necessary.

Sasori

Absolutely 100% HATES driving. Has massive anxiety anytime he has to get behind the wheel, almost to the point where he’d need to take a sedative just to relax. Drives slower than the slowest driver you can think of. Yellow light? Slow down. Green light? Still slow down. Will drive himself to and from work, but any other time would prefer being a passenger in someone else’s car ((in which case he becomes the worst backseat driver in history)), or simply taking the bus. Doesn’t like giving rides to others but if he must, it’ll be a very tense, silent drive (forget about him turning on the radio and ‘breaking his concentration’), and he’ll freak out if a passenger takes their seatbelt off before the car comes to a complete stop. Also has a hyper-awareness to anything that might possibly be wrong with his car; if that check engine light comes on you can bet he’ll be at the mechanic in a heartbeat. Also the type who feels “uncomfortable” if gas tank is below 3/4 full.

Konan

The type who’s always heading somewhere/running errands, and will ask if you need a ride. Very neat and organized car, and always suspiciously shiny (as if she visits the carwash every other day). Seems to know absolutely everybody; is always waving at or honking to people in other cars. Keeps the radio volume down when she has passengers, but when alone she loves to sing at the top of her lungs to 90’s boy bands (her rendition of I Want It That Way by The Backstreet Boys is American-Idol worthy). Is always prepared for anything, especially in the winter; in her trunk is a shovel, an extra blanket, water bottles and protein bars, even emergency flares. May be pretty and delicate but definitely knows her way around a car; can change a tire or check the oil with the best of them.

Kisame

Has very long legs, so needs a car or truck that provides him ample room to stretch. A very relaxed and mellow driver, always puts whoever’s with him immediately at ease. Doesn’t use air fresheners in his car but inside always smells like whatever his cologne is, which is always yummy. Gets a lot of fast-food but always keeps the bags and wrappers stored neatly in a little garbage bag that he empties out daily. Will let his passengers do pretty much anything in his car EXCEPT smoke; he can’t stand the smell of tobacco. Isn’t really a Point A to Point B driver; will always think of other places to stop or visit en-route to his destination. Big fan of Musical music; his all-time favorite cd is the soundtrack to Grease. Also (when by himself) is a car-emoter; Kisame doesn’t let most people see anything but his cheerful side. Bring alone in his car is the only time he’ll cry, or scream, or express anger regarding events or people.

Obito

The type of driver who very often spaces out and “forgets” that he’s driving. Prefers traveling more with animals than with people; most likely to take his dog on a weeklong broad trip. Has been a smoker since his teenage years but is trying to quit, so in his car is the only place he “allows” himself a cigarette (but only when he’s completely alone). Almost started a fire once when he threw a still-lit cigarette out the window, but it flew into the backseat instead. Drives fairly slow unless he’s in a hurry for something (but even then his foot doesn’t press the gas pedal THAT much harder). His musical tastes depend on his mood but whatever he ends up listening to is always car-shakingly loud. Seems to have a new (and interesting) trinket hanging from his rear-view mirror every week. The kind who drives around for several days with his gas tank close to/touching on E because ”he knows his car, it’s fine”.

[uwumessenger]

random headcanons i have for each om! character teehee

hi it's been a while since ive posted some hcs bc uni has been kicking my a$$! luckily i only have a few papers to tidy up and im done. here r some hcs for each obey me character that ive accumulated over the past few months wink wonk

most are random but some constants you'll find are what i think they smell like, languages they can speak (other than their native (demon/angel) and eng/jp), and music tastes !

lucifer

i have a strong feeling that he showers twice a day: in the morning after waking up and at night before going to bed

his cologne is probably the type that will last in an elevator for like a week after he uses it once. i dont think this mf ever smells like anything other than his cologne

has a secret folder on his phone of semi-nudes and other scandalous pics from when he felt sexy at the time omg

aside from demon language/eng/jp he can speak french and knows latin

listens to classical stuff yea but he also listens to diavolos mixtapes (re: diavolo's section)

not a fan of sweets but will eat sweet things when craving

really bland sense of humor...borderline cringey 😭✋🏻

mammon

has gone to google images and searched for "inspirational quotes tumblr" "gold aesthetic tumblr" & "relatable crush post tumblr" then reposts it onto his socials or just taps thru them and giggles bc he relates

his cologne doesnt last as long as lucifers and probably smells common. he has to reapply a lot but it's a people pleasing smell. it's cheaper hence the constant reapplying

he probably does have an expensive bottle but is the type to totally overspray...eek

he is canonically a car guy 🥲 and probably tells the one in his room good morning & good night + kisses the hood every once in a while. has tons of car magazines

he doesnt really speak other languages but has attempted to learn spanish before

listens to whatever is on the radio. doesnt rly stan anyone but he eventually will listen to mc's playlist and mc's playlist ONLY

levi

lurks on mc's socials ALL THE TIMEEEE like he will rewatch ur stories and scroll thru ur feed and overanalyze ur tweets/rts or blog posts. if ur mc isnt the type to use sns much he still googles ur name all the damn time just to find any sites u might be on fjdjdjdjskks

probably streams on whatever youtube or twitch devildom site equivalent there is, but only has like 40 or so followers. which he is okay with!

until he sees someone else who gets more attention than him. then the envy starts kicking in bad. especially if they suck 🧍🏻‍♀️

classic gamer boy smell. you know, sweat, tears, must, and (sometimes) axe deodorant. lucifer has to do a scent check before he goes out to any event & lets him use his cologne. how sweet!

kpop stan!! more girl groups than anything and his ults are probably GIRLS GENERATION, wonder girls, twice, loona, & red velvet

cried when ioi disbanded and refused to leave his room. the only thing u could hear was downpour on loop at full blast

can also speak korean & communicate in echolocation like dolphins 😏

satan

listens to country music you cant change my mind

smells like whatever environment he is in. he doesnt really have a designated smell just throws some deodorant on and goes about his day.

he's sooooo bad at driving...gets road rage way too often so his license has been REVOKED

but hes totally a backseat driver. needs to be sedated on long trips

do not let him watch finding nemo when luke asks to watch it. it's not worth it. he will cause mass destruction.

if he was a human or lived long term in the human world he totally has the ability to be a doctor

is studying as many languages as possible, but he mostly knows latin & french & german etc etc. wants to learn all the dead languages out of curiousity

asmo

dont think this mf has ever held down a relationship. ever

he doesnt compromise much & is not willing to change his lifestyle to fit an s/o into it. you keep up with how he lives or it just isnt meant to be (but dont worry! he'll eventually learn...maybe,,,,)

has the hardest time out of everyone when it comes to breaking bad habits

his smell varies bc he uses a variety of perfumes (whatever is the most popular at the time) but he probably sticks to floral and fresh scents. he never uses generic people pleaser scents like mammon

listens to electropop, mainstream pop, & some alternative rock

as for languages he too knows french, spanish, italian, etc. in general, if it's a romance language he knows it!

opposite of lucifer in the sense where he loves sweets and will refrain from eating too many bitter things

i think we all know that asmo is the biggest rockstar of the group! he's probably been in a boy band at least once, but now he makes his own music

has tried to teach mammon how to sing once. ended up in a broken piano and bleeding ears...

beel

i feel like he is SO SHY

like unless ur close to him he will not start conversations or anything

i think he listens to r&b a lot ! and jazz 😎 maybe rock as well

smells like ur typical athlete with undertones of wet wipes. he carries them around bc he likes to clean his hands before he eats & is prepared for when theres no sink nearby

he can drive and he drives really well. no rough turns, parallel parks perfectly, and never has problems with merging

driving with beel is probably really soothing. left hand is steering the other is gripping ur thigh 😫

dont think hes really fluent in any other language but hes probably semi fluent in korean because levi wanted beel to help him out

definitely know how to order food in practically every language tho HAHAHA

belphie

he reminds me of randall from monsters inc

smells kinda musty IM SORRY but not the way levi does hes more like the kind of musty u feel or smell when it's a shitty morning

but that's only because hes so lazy, when he cleans up hes like satan

has definitely murdered multiple people before. mc is not the first 😐✋🏻

with that being said belphie has been put into prison at least twice when visiting the human world, the mf had such a strong hatred for humans theres no way he never got into trouble before

lucifer probably broke him out and they used the pen thingies from men in black to erase everyones memory of that 🙄

dont think he listens to anything other than music that'll put him to sleep. really likes lazy song by bruno mars but thinks that bruno mars put too much effort into the song. should have been one acapella verse and then finish

similar to beel hes only semi fluent in one language, probably french bc of lucifer. doesnt remember much but knows a couple of lullabies and bedtime stories

the sandman used to be his bff until they drifted. they do, however, like and comment on each other's sns posts.

diavolo

once he found out who nicki minaj was he became her #1 stan

def an ariana grande stan too 😌

choreographs dances when hes stressed...idk just seems like a diavolo thing to do

also makes rly bad soundcloud rap music sometimes. turns to poetry when hes feeling emo but only lucifer knows this. barbatos is suspicious of him but doesnt have enough evidence to confirm.

his dad is like hudson abadeer from adventure time aka marceline's dad? something must have influenced him to want to unite the 3 realms + he would need the approval to do so, so his dad must be more chill than all the others before him 🧍🏻‍♀️ IDK ok anyway

currently going through his hamilton phase bc of mc. whether mc's intent was to get him hooked onto it or just to explain it bc of something he saw online, he tells everyone that he found out abt it bc of mc!

this man cannot drive his skills are only second to jumin han

not too fond of many languages but knows the widely spoken ones like spanish, mandarin, etc. if it's taught in high school he knows it

smells like a las vegas casino. not sure why but i feel like he does. but there's also an interesting & nice smell to him if he embraces you. it's a smell you cant quite identify. but it smells nostalgic, it's mysterious, and it's tempting.

barbatos

very calm demeanor but underneath hes WILD hes probably done everything at least once oof

he just has a lot of control and stability over himself (must be nice!)

on a more angsty note i feel like he might have had his heartbroken sO BAD IDK he is hurting and maybe that's why hes so willing to obey diavolo and not abuse his time lord power thingies bc he learned his lesson the hard way

mans is so smart he knows every language you could switch languages mid conversation with him and he wouldnt be thrown off. he'd probably start speaking it too.

BUT HE SPEAKS VIET P E R F E C T L Y

listens to the same stuff as lucifer but also likes eminem. likes the movie 8 mile but criticized it heavily

have you ever been to a chinese herb shop? naturally, he smells like that. his room probably smells like it too. he doesnt really have a significant smell like some of the others

when he bakes he smells like whatever hes baking tho

one of the few out of everyone listed to have been able to travel to literally everywhere

solomon

was probably on kitchen nightmares once, but only to get feedback from chef gordon ramsay. then he used his magic to prevent the episode from airing...

was in an orchestra, one of the best times of his life. played the violin. asmo watched him in the audience once, but didnt approach him until well after that performance.

he CANNOT sing. he can, however, rap.

doesnt listen to music. he listens to podcasts! but every now and then he turns on background music, but prefers it to be instrumental stuff

never wears sunglasses. also does not have a driver's license. cannot drive a regular car. could maybe fly an airplane.

due to his immortality he has learned almost every language to exist, but finds himself speaking mandarin the most. knows most dialects too

similar smell to barbatos but u can also smell some sunscreen on him too. like, generic beach day suncreen

he has a lot of pact marks, so he once had the idea to match foundation to his skin. it took him two weeks but he eventually perfected a combination. yes he will help u find ur perfect shade if u ask him to

simeon

another country music man. has also made a tiktok or two to that one song that goes "he cant even bait a hook." they are private tho

angel country music exists and simeon invented it

if he visits the human world and wears more causal clothing he probably tucks his shirt into his pants

wears a speedo at the beach i tell u, speedo at the beach

he can speak german...i can feel it

uses his pointer finger to type and holds the phone like 2 inches away from his face so sometimes his nose will push a key hence all his typos

has no signature smell. he simply smells like your favorite scent all the time. if multiple people are around him at once, everyone smells a different smell. it's pretty rad

"what does he smell like to himself?" u may be asking. hmm...a church? 💀

luke

his first pet was a goldfish and a few months before the exchange program happened, he was given a koi pond!

secretly likes hanging out with levi sometimes just to play with henry. makes him miss his pet fish back home

so his favorite movie is probably finding nemo and he threw a fit when nemo touched the butt

luke is probably learning german bc of simeon, though he'd like to learn more of the dead languages just for fun

i dont think he listens to music often or has any preferences, he just listens to whatever is playing on the radio

but he finds himself listening to the music mc listens to

smells like freshly baked goods all the time. or fresh laundry. but like, not combined. just depends on the day

[buntycake]

Hey I really liked your writing so I decided to send in a prompt. What do you think the brothers would only reveal about themselves to MC after a long time of dating? Maybe a different side of their personalities or an embarrassing interest? Thank you for the hard work 💕

I’m glad you like my writing! I hope you enjoy this headcanon.

What the Brothers Reveal to You After Dating You for a Long Time

 Pride:

Lucifer never seems to struggle. True, he has his fits of irritation as he tries to run Devildom while bringing Diavolo’s machinations to fruition. Even so, to an outsider he always seems to have a plan Z for everything.

The first time you saw him in a less than orderly state was when he called you to his office during one of his all-nighters. It was three in the morning and he had asked you to bring him a coffee spiked with poison. (This would have been alarming to you if you hadn't lived in Devildom for quite some time.)

Hunched over his desk and surrounded by paperwork, he looked exhausted. He didn’t even take the time to save his coffee like usual. It was gone in one gulp. When you asked what was keeping him up so late, he told you about Lord Diavolo's new idea. It had him ripping hair out he tried to figured out how to implement it.

Though he tried to shoo you away, you sat with him until 6 am, when he finally called it quits. This became a semiregular occurrence. (You talked him out of his all-nighters when you could.) Just your presence is enough to make the process of figuring out the impossible better.

When you're more settled in your relationship, he'll start asking for your advice and help. It's hard to believe that someone as persnickety as Lucifer would allow someone to do a job that he could do better, but he trusts you.

It's not always about work either. The conversations you two have about his relationship with his brothers are when Lucifer seems the most vulnerable. He wants to be close with them, but struggles. You are one of the few people he allows to know that.

 Greed:

Mammon being completely serious is still an uncommon occurrence in your relationship. He has his more reserved moments, sure, but not bouncing off the walls is not the same as having that solemn, focused look in his eyes.

There are really two occasions when this side of him comes out. One, when he's in DEEP trouble with the witches. You'll know that his debt with the witches has become serious when he's pacing the length of his room and muttering a string of numbers and calculations you can't follow.

Two, when he's trying to comfort someone, most often you. (After all, his brothers aren’t the type to admit when they’re feeling down.) There was once you had gotten to ruminating about the past. Those memories had whirl winded into something ugly. All your past regrets and embarrassments built up and weighed down on you until you began to cry.

Luckily or unluckily, Mammon came barging into your room at that time. He was ranting about some new opportunity for making money. In your melancholy daze, it was hard to remember. You must have looked awful because the switch was immediate.

Mammon gathered you in his arms and rubbed your back until you calmed down enough to talk. At first, he seemed agitated since he thought one of the brothers had done something to upset you. However, as you explained what happened he settled down. He was silent as you spoke and his eyes never left your face as if he was trying to gather up your every word and reaction.

Mammon is surprisingly insightful when he wants to be. What he said to you after your rant was thoughtful and wise – completely unlike his typical persona. You knew the typical fun-loving demon had returned when he said, "Anyway, forget about all that stuff. You have the Great Mammon looking out for you now."

 Envy:

Levi is extremely capable. Being an otaku shut-in, it's an aspect of him that isn't immediately apparent and that you've probably only seen glimpses of.

Levi's ability to keep up with all things otaku, while perhaps not impressive to anyone outside of the anime community, is a testament to his persistence. And no matter what normies think, Levi isn't without ambition.

It's actually a little while into your relationship that he brings up an old goal of his: creating an otaku podcast. He was timid as he began to explain his vision to you, but about an hour in it was clear that he knew EXACTLY what he wanted to do. He just needed a little nudge.

After many reassures, some words of affirmation, and a pretty drawn out planning session, he got to work. For the next couple of months, he was busy - completely hyper focused on this goal.

He reached out to some smaller creators in the otaku community to find others interested in making a podcast. The two of you went searching for a place and some equipment to rent out. There were many late nights with just the two of you drafting up some beginning podcast topics.

Levi was a nervous mess before the first recording. You sat in on the first one just to be a calming presence, but in the end, you don’t think he needed it. He had a BLAST.  Everyone seemed to play off each other so well.

When the podcast came out, it was a modest success. Those that liked it were begging for more. He was practically vibrating from excitement and overflowing with new ideas after that.

Levi undoubtedly did most of the leg work, but he'll insist to his last breath that it was all because of your support. To him, he can jump any hurdle with you by his side.

 Wrath:

Satan is disgustingly romantic. For all the rage he can store in his body, honeyed words and sweet sentiments take their place there, too. Blame it on all the romance books he's read over the millenniums.

This aspect of him was probably the clearest during your dates, where he’ll take you to some unknown, but beautiful place. Even as you take in the environmental or astronomical wonders that Devildom offers, his eyes can’t seem to part from your form. It’s as if your existence is even more surreal.

This sentiment bleeds into your daily life the longer you're together. Most notably when you start finding small notes everywhere.

In the morning you found a note on your dresser, scrawled in his neat cursive. It read, “Your smile is as refreshing as the morning dew.” The smile in question appeared on your lips and you could almost see Satan’s amused smile in your mind.

Another note that said, “Your curiosity is something to be admired and feared,” had you giggling in the middle of RAD’s hallways. You got a few odd stares for that.

Surprise, surprise, there were more in your backpack, textbooks, around your room, everywhere. Each contained a small snapshot of his feelings about you.

At the end of the day, you found him tucked away in the library with a book like usual. When you asked him why he hid all those notes, he simply said, "So, that you would have at least one happy moment each day.”

 Lust:

Asmo takes pride in his appearance, but more than that, fashion and beauty are a defensive mechanism. If he looks less than perfect, then there might be merit in what people say about him. They might have good reason to hate or resent him.

When he's at his most beautiful, he can pass those reactions off as people being envious of his perfection. It may seem like a small thing, but it's a privilege to see him before all the primping and preening.

So, when you woke up after one of your rendezvouses and found him still in bed, you were surprised. Usually, he was already up and about, wrapped in one of his silk robes.

He always looked like he woke up fashionably messy. Hair that was perfectly mussed, robe that was draped lazily over his shoulders, and eyes that seemed dewy with sleep, but the smell of bathing oils and perfume always gave away his morning preparations.

Seeing him with bedhead, rubbing at his bleary eyes, and yawning out morning breath was surreal. You thought you were dreaming until he pulled you closer and nuzzled into your chest. His lack of pretense went unmentioned for cuddles and an extra thirty minutes of sleep.

Every time he does this, know that he's choosing to be vulnerable with you. And perhaps more importantly, that he's opening himself up to your criticisms. Ones that he can't/won't deflect and will take to heart.

 Gluttony:

Beel is rarely angry. As the peacemaker of the brothers, he's often the one pacifying the others. It doesn't leave him much room to express his own anger.

More than that, Beel doesn't like to hold grudges. It makes him feel guilty. There's already so much animosity among his brothers already; he doesn’t want to add to it.

You were really worried the first time he came to vent to you. He had entered your room a bit solemnly and gathered you into his arms. Then, he’d asked your permission to disclose something to you.

At first, you thought he was sad. Beel had commonly shared moments where he felt sad or upset, but this quiet simmering anger was new to you.

He started off quietly. It was lucky his mouth was right by your ear or else you'd have never heard what he was muttering. The whole rant started off with him confessing how frustrated he was with Lucifer for still withholding information and not leaning on the brothers for help.

As you nodded and encouraged him to go on, he got more confident. The conversation drifted away from Lucifer, to his qualms with the rest of the brothers. All of them for condescending his intelligence on a daily basis, Mammon for always going through everyone’s things, Asmo for constantly stealing his cake, and so on.

Beel had completely cooled off by the end of his rant and was a tad bit embarrassed. However, as he gets more comfortable venting, he'll let you know about small things that irritated him that day. It becomes like a daily confessional ritual between the two of you.

 Sloth:

Belphie is notably cynical. However, this gets toned down by his aloof, sleepy persona. As adorable and soft as he is, he harbors numerous negative opinions of the world.

He doesn't trust easily and often expects the worst of people - demons, humans, angels, it doesn't matter. To his credit, when he isn’t blinded by his temper, he’s often right in his assessments. However, for Beel's sake, he typically suppresses this response.

With you, he feels he can air out his grievances. The first of these occurrences happened after a post-nap in the attic. The two of you were curled around each other and he began to let his woes slip out into the space between the two of you.

He talked about everything from his brothers to the exchange program to even his reservations about you. The dichotomy of Belphie cuddled into you, surrounded by a mountain of pillows while lamenting the woes of the world was frankly jarring. But when he finished, he seemed to sink deeper into your embrace like a weight had lifted off his shoulders.

As he continues to talk to you about all his less than optimistic views, they become a sort of philosophical debate between the two of you. There’s something satisfying about throwing each other’s ideals around and deconstructing them. More appealing to Belphie is that the two of you can have these conversations without judging each other (too much) or forcing your morals down the other’s throat.

[gaemkyuu]

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Warnings: death of a loved one and grief. There is one mention to drinking a bottle of wine but all characters in the story are above the age of 21. A/N: this is based off a post @ah2113​ made a little while ago! I liked the idea and decided to write a cute fluffy piece on it! Hope you like it! “Reader and Charlie are best friends and they met on JATP. Charlie and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know. The readers grandma passes away and she calls Charlie, who is in a completely different state/country, in tears about the situation. Charlie feels horrible and completely drops everything he’s doing and immediately flies out to the reader and surprises them. He is with them throughout the whole viewing and funeral and meets her entire family. Everybody mistakens him for the readers boyfriend because of how much he is doing to help and tells the reader that he is clearly in love with them.”  Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life. 

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Charlie was in the middle of an interview when his phone started vibrating. Normally he kept it on airplane mode, but today he forgot. He quickly reached for his phone and saw her name pop up on the screen, losing focus for a brief moment on the interview. 

“Pardon me? Could you repeat the question?” Charlie was trying so hard to focus on the interview at hand but knowing he was on the last question, made it all the more difficult to focus when he knew she was calling.

“Charlie, the fans want to know. Are you single?” he chuckled but since he was distracted, he didn’t give a really good answer.

“Kinda” he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth and the fact that he started blushing made the situation worse! Thankfully the interviewer didn’t press any further into the matter and made a casual joke about it. They quickly wrapped the interview knowing that Charlie had another one scheduled right afterwards, but he had a few minutes to make up a phone call.

Amelie had worked on set for season one of Julie as a hair and make up artist and shocked many at how talented she was for her age. She got along well with the cast and would often hang out with them on their days off, but for some reason she gravitated the most to Charlie. Everyone often teased them about the chemistry they had and how they would make a great couple but both of them would laugh at the comments and deny any feelings towards one another. They were simply nothing more but really good friends.

Or so they thought.

Amelie was head over heels for the brunette and Charlie for her. She loved his smile and enthusiasm for life. She admired his work ethic and passion for what he did. She would squash every thought about being with Charlie because he was too good for her. She liked the weirdest things and entertained people with the most random facts. She could spend hours in an art and fashion museum, when most people could only spend so much time. Amelie saw herself as weird and knew that Charlie saw her as nothing more than a friend.

The opposite was true. Charlie loved her quirkiness and nerdiness around the strangest things. He loved that she was always so modest and humble, even though she had all the right to brag at how amazing she was at her talents. He loved how she was always up for trying something new and that she had an eye for fashion, design and art, but he knew she didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. That still didn’t stop Charlie from always being there for her.

“Charlie?” her voice came out in a broken and quiet whisper. He could tell that she was crying and he instantly felt his stomach drop. A few sniffles came from the other line before the voice spoke again. “She’s gone Charlie... Grandmaman is gone...” he could hear her voice start to shake again.

“Say the word Amelie and I am there” Charlie glanced at his watch,8:55pm. He had five more minutes until the next interview with the pop culture podcast from Sydney. This meant that it was 5:00am in London, where Amelie was working on Netflix’s newest series. “Ams?”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just didn’t know who else to talk to...” she sniffled quietly not sure what else to say.

“What time are you leaving to get to set?” 8:57pm, he was running out of time. He saw the notification that the next interviewer had signed on to their zoom meeting.

“I gotta be on set at 7:00am so the van will be here to pick me up at 6:30am. It’s my last day on set, so there’s that” she sniffled again, feeling herself calm down with Charlie on the other line. She desperately needed him, but she couldn’t ask him that. He was doing press for season 2 of Julie and the Phantoms and he needed to be available, not off consoling his friend who was madly in love with him. 

“Amelie, listen, I have to jump onto the next interview, but try to get a little more sleep and drink some water. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. When are you flying back?” Charlie felt awful having to hang up on her when he knew she needed him.

“I’ll be on the next flight out to Vancouver. Hopefully there’s a flight this evening back to Canada. My mom’s really upset and my siblings are rushing to get home for her” Amelie took a deep breath and listened to the frustrated sigh on the other end. He was probably annoyed that she called him. “Thank you for picking up Char”

“Anything for you Ams... I’m really sorry but I have to go now... If you’re busy when I call, can you let me know when you’re at the airport?” Amelie agreed and hung up the phone, flopping on the bed and a silent stream of tears falling from her eyes again. Meanwhile, Charlie sat in his LA bedroom, head in hands frustrated that he couldn’t be there for her.

***

Amelie watched out the window as the plane landed in Vancouver. She felt an anxiousness to get off the plane and be with her mom, but she knew she had to go through security and baggage. She didn’t notice that her leg was restlessly bouncing until the nice old lady beside her placed a hand on her lap. 

“Excited are we?” she smiled at her kindly and Amelie blushed, a little embarrassed. “I was once in love too. I get the feeling”

“Actually, I’m just anxious to be with my mom... My grandmother passed away yesterday and I wanna be there for her” the old lady’s smile changed to an empathetic one and she patted her knee.

“I’m sorry for your loss my dear... I lost my sister a year ago today. It is not an easy thing to grieve and I can tell that your soul feels heavy. You might want to think about sharing that load with someone” she smiled. A flight attendant interrupted their conversation letting them know that she had priority to leave the plane. The old woman then looked at Amelie and winked. “They’re letting us off the plane now honey. Thank you miss, but my daughter can grab my bags from the upper compartment, can’t she” baffled at the kindness of the old woman, Amelie dumbly nodded and stood to help her. As they made their way through the gate, an attendant was waiting for the old woman. “You can leave my bags with this gentle man” she smiled.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that” the old woman took her hand. “Your mother is fortunate to have you as a daughter. Now go and be with her” Amelie smiled and gave the old woman a hug, and teared up a bit remembering her own grandmother. Wiping away a tear, Amelie said thank you again and headed off to get her bags. To no surprise, getting her suitcase was a gong show because they had to share a lane with another flight. By the time she got there, tons of people waited right by the carousel for their bags, making Amelie stand in the back and tippy toe to see a glimpse of her bag. She was fortunate that a man had helped her as she squeezed her way to the front, waiting for her bag. With a deep breath, she exited the doors and dialed her mother.

“Hello? Maman? What car are you in? Oh wait! I see it!” Amelie quickly rushed outside of the door at YVR to get to her mother’s vehicle. She was able to find a flight that evening and she left right away. The flight was long, but she was able to make it home to her mother’s side in 24 hours. She trotted over to her mother’s vehicle that pulled into the loading zone, flashing their hazards on, her mother getting out of the passenger side. Amelie stopped for a moment, confused that her mother wasn’t driving the car. Her mother quickly embraced her in her arms and both of them shared a tearful hug. “Who’s driving maman?”

Charlie stepped out of the driver’s seat and took Amelie’s suitcase from her, as she stood there with her mouth open. “Surprise?” she immediately felt a sudden wave of emotion wash over her and she jumped into Charlie’s waiting arms crying as he held her tight. She felt sadness and happiness while grieving over her Grandmother and feeling elated at the sudden presence of the boy.

“How?” she sniffled and pulled away, wiping her tears.

“Charlie knew how sad you were over Grandmaman, so he texted me late last night and flew in early this morning” her mother explained. Amelie’s mother knew of her crush on the boy and always encouraged her to pursue the relationship further, but she always insisted to her mother that they would be nothing more than friends. Her mother would roll her eyes at her daughter every time she said that, knowing that the chemistry and the feelings were there, but the two were just too stubborn to admit it.

“That’s what friends are for right?” 

Right. Friends.

***

After being picked up at the airport, they went straight to her mother’s house and helped her mom plan out things for the funeral. Naturally, Charlie became the chauffer, driving Amelie and her mom around the city to make various appointments with funeral directors and lawyers. Amelie’s grandmother gave birth to five children and never remarried after her husband passed away. Amelie had very little recollection of her grandfather as he passed away when she was quite young. Each of her mother’s siblings had at least three kids and each child had at least three kids, making their family huge. That didn’t include her mother’s cousins and their families, all of which would be flying in to attend the funeral in two days time.

Running around was an emotionally exhausting task, not to mention the exhaustion that came with grief. The two women were grateful that Charlie was around for them that day as Amelie’s siblings slowly started to get into town. He ordered pizza for everyone, knowing that all of her siblings would be in Vancouver in time for the funeral. Her grandmother was clear that she wanted the viewing and funeral to be combined into one day, not wanting to prolong her burial process, something that they honored. But with that request, it meant a lot had to be done.

Amelie had four siblings, all of which were older than her, making her the baby of the family. Her brother Benoit had moved to New Brunswick to live with the love of his life Maxime, and he was the second to arrive. He had work to take care of and unfortunately Maxime couldn’t get the time off. Benoit got along very well with Charlie, connecting over Dieppe and how it differed from Fredericton where Benoit lived with his partner. Her twin sisters Rachelle and Rene got into Vancouver right before dinner and actually carried the pizza inside while Charlie paid. Both sisters lived in Toronto, one training on the Olympic figure skating team and the other working in Parliament. Throughout the night, they joked about how cute Charlie was and how they were both single and didn’t mind dating someone younger. This annoyed Amelie but she wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Her third oldest brother, Theo, was the last to arrive, getting in way past dinner but before midnight. He lived in New York pursuing photography and had to finish a shoot before he could come home. Hearing this, Charlie asked him multiple questions about photography when they sat around their mother’s fireplace that night. It was nice to be able to gather as a family before the craziness of their relatives. French Canadian families were big, loud and full of personality, but Amelie knew Charlie understood this dynamic very well.

The next two days passed by in a blur with Charlie helping out wherever he could and sometimes locking himself in her mother’s office to do an interview or meeting here and there. Amelie was so grateful for him because every time she felt overwhelmed or that she was going to cry, he somehow made it to her side, comforting her and helping her be strong. Rachelle and Rene kept telling her to claim Charlie before they did, but Amelie would always insist that they were friends. But when her brothers got involved, Amelie couldn’t help but think that maybe her siblings were right. Maybe she should ask Charlie out, but how could she do that when her entire family was still dealing with the loss of her grandmother?

Just last night, Charlie sat up late into the evening comforting Amelie as she put the slideshow together on her Macbook. She could hardly look at the pictures or listen to the music without tearing up and having mini cry sessions on his shoulder, something he took in stride. It also didn’t help that she had consumed an entire bottle of wine...

In all honesty, Charlie couldn’t be more happy to be by her side at this moment. He knew how hard it was to lose a loved one, especially since he lost his grandmother before filming season one of Julie and the Phantoms. Being here for her was important to him and he wanted to show her that she could always come to him. When she passed out on his shoulder that night, he thought about how badly he wanted to be with her as he tucked her in bed. He loved how she snuggled into his shoulder as he finished up the slide show and he loved that she reached out for him and called his name in her sleep as he walked away. He kissed your forehead goodnight and hated the fact that he couldn’t just call you his.

A soft knock at the door interrupted Amelie’s day dream of her grandmother. She wiped the tears that have unexpectedly fallen from her eyes and took a deep breath. “Come in” her voice was shakier than she wanted it to be, but relief washed over her when Charlie walked in wearing a black dress shirt and tie. He smiled empathetically to her and approached her with open arms, something she gladly accepted. She inhaled his scent, burying her face in his chest, while he rested his head on top of hers. 

“You ready?” Charlie held her tight as he asked this question. This would be the first and last time Amelie would be seeing her deceased grandmother.

“I should be asking you that question” she softly giggled. Charlie would be meeting all of her relatives today, including her annoying cousin Madeleine. 

“You forget that I too have a big family. It’ll be fine. Plus, I’m here for you and not them” Amelie pulled away from the hug to stare him in the eyes, silently figuring whether now was a time to discuss her feelings or not. In the end, she decided against it and smiled softly at him, which he returned.

“Thank you for being here Char... It really means a lot” he chuckled and pulled her close for a second hug, something she would never tire hearing.

“Anything for you Ams. Anything.”

***

The funeral and mass went according to plan and soon enough they found themselves in the church basement with a slide show of her grandmother playing in the background, while guests visited the pastries and beverages being served. Amelie was occupied with the many questions her aunts and uncles had about her career and how she was doing, but she couldn’t help but worry about Charlie. Throughout her conversations with her relatives, she watched Charlie help out her mother with the pastries and beverages, stopping once in a while to entertain the younger cousins at the children’s table. She smiled at him gratefully for helping out so much, but grew a little nervous when her nosy aunts and uncles pulled him aside and started interviewing him. It seemed like he was handling himself fine, but Amelie felt even more confident when he made eye contact with her and winked. 

“Well if it isn’t the Hollywood superstar.” Amelie could feel herself cringe at the sound of the voice. It was Madeline, Amelie’s cousin. They were the same age and same stature, but they couldn’t be more opposite. Madeline pursued modeling at a young age and still continued to do it, but for some reason, she always felt that everything was a competition. Amelie wanted to simply be cousins, but Madeline would take every opportunity to upstage her or show off to their aunts and uncles. Amelie didn’t really care, but the more she didn’t the more vicious Madeleine became. At one point in their lives, Madeleine had moved to Vancouver for more opportunities and ended up living with her family. This caused a lot of drama between the two of them, including Madeleine dating several of her exes and bringing them to family events.

“Hey Mads. Long time no see” Amelie forced herself to be nice and polite, even though she felt her cousin didn’t deserve it. Her black dress was a little too tight and a little too revealing for a funeral, but she wasn’t about to bring that up. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know, living it up in Paris, traveling all over Europe for different modeling jobs. It’s exhausting, but I’m sure you know of it” anyone could hear the sarcasm and apprehension in her voice. Her aunts awkwardly moved away, making up some excuse about visiting other family members so that they could catch up. “How does it feel to be working on a children’s show?”

“I mean, I love what I do, so I can’t complain” Amelie bit her tongue before she could say anything rude. She never understood why her cousin always felt the need to announce how much better she was over her.

“So... optimistic. What’s it feel like to settle?” she felt the blood rush to her face, starting to lose control of her emotions. This was not the place or time to have this conversation, yet Madeline persisted. She took a deep breath trying to level herself and forced a smile on her face. As she opened her mouth to reply, she felt a warm hand hug her lower back and the slight smell of cologne fill the air.

“Everything alright babe?” she blushed at the name and gesture from Charlie, who kissed the top of her head. Madeline flushed and her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Oh hi, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Charlie” he reached out his hand towards Madeline, keeping the other wrapped around Amelie. 

“Madeline. It’s nice to meet you Charlie. You’re an actor from the show that she worked on, right? What are you doing here?” Amelie could hear the faintest trace of annoyance in her voice, and shook his hand. Charlie and Amelie looked at each other, a cocky smile on Charlie’s face and slight confusion on Amelie’s. 

“I’m her boyfriend and I came to support her. I’m sure you’ve been dealing with the grief as well and I couldn’t let her go through this alone” part of what Charlie said was true, but Amelie couldn’t help but blush at the mention of boyfriend. No one had actually asked Charlie if they were dating, but a lot of relatives were beating around the bush. Apparently Charlie had said that rather loudly and some of the relatives started gossiping in a hushed voice. 

“Wow Amelie. I didn’t know you had such good taste in men based on your past partners” Charlie laughed at the comment, something Madeline didn’t suspect.

“I wouldn’t say I’m good taste, but Ams if definitely a catch” he gloated and kissed her cheek, causing Amelie to blush furiously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I actually came over because your mom needs some help” if there was one thing Amelie could count on, it would be Charlie’s ability to read a situation and get her out of it. “Shall we, my love?” she nodded and walked away from Madeline flushed and confused, but also really excited. He moved his hand from her back to her hand, softly dragging her away from the conversation.

“Boyfriend?” Amelie whispered to him, inferring the comments he made to Madeline. 

“I know she ruffles your feathers, so why not ruffle hers?” Benoit interrupted Charlie, asking him if he could help put some of the tables from upstairs away. “You’re mom’s in the kitchenette, you can probably hide there for a bit. I got you a plate of pastries that I stashed in the back” she thanked him and watched him walk away with her brother. Before she could take another step, Rachelle and Rene linked arms with her on either side and rushed her into the kitchenette.

“So you’re dating now?!” Rene questioned and before Amelie could answer, Rachelle interrupted her. “When were you going to tell us this?!”

“About time” her mother scoffed, stirring another jug of fruit punch. “Okay you two, leave your sister alone to breathe for a second. Take these pitchers out to the table and find Theo. Make sure Tante Genevive hasn’t stolen him for a private photoshoot for Facebook” Amelie was grateful that her mother shooed the twins off and passed her the plate that Charlie put aside. 

“Thanks Maman” her mother smiled smugly at her, moving about the kitchenette. “Please don’t say I told you so” her mother made the motion to zip her lips as she giddily made her way around the kitchen.

***

That evening, Amelie’s family stumbled through the front door of her mother’s house, everyone retiring to their rooms for a short moment of relaxation while their mother ordered take out for a late dinner. They had stayed behind to clean up with a few other relatives and put away the church tables and chairs. Charlie didn’t complain a single time and rushed to do whatever he could to help everyone out. Charlie followed Amelie up the stairs to her old bedroom and shut the door behind him as she plopped onto the bed. Part of Amelie did this was because she was tired, but the other part of her did it hopefully to avoid the conversation they were about to have. Charlie quietly sat beside her on the bed and played with her hair, something she absolutely loved.

“So, about today...” this conversation was happening whether she wanted it to or not.

“It was really nice of you to stand up for me but you didn’t have to. I have no problem telling my family it was a small misunderstanding. It should stop them from blabbering to the media” She sat up and Charlie looked incredulously at Amelie confused at what she was saying.

“Ams, I don’t think you get it” again, she interrupted him before he could continue.

“No I do, I get it. You’re an amazing friend Char and you didn’t have to risk the rumours for-” she didn’t complete the thought because Charlie’s lips were suddenly on hers and she completely melted into them. It was like this tension that she never acknowledged left her shoulders, making her feel like she was floating.

“Do you understand now?” he searched her eyes for some sort of confirmation. “I really like you Amelie and I’ve liked you for a long time, but I’ve always thought you wanted to be friends”

“I wanted to be friends?! I thought you friend zoned me first!” he gave her a look for interrupting him. “Sorry”

“Regardless of what happened, being with you here and helping you and your family throughout all of this made me want to be a part of your life so much more. I want to be more than your friend. I know this is a bad time to say this, but I don’t think I can keep pretending that I don’t want to be with you” he held her hand in his and drew nearer to her again. “I really want to be with you if you’ll have me”

She closed the gap between the two of them and kissed him this time, something which Charlie gladly accepted. The two shared a simple but passionate kiss, as if they were confessing two years of secret feelings to each other. A bang at the door startled them.

“Put your pants on! Maman wants you guys to go pick up the take out!” Benoit yelled from behind the door. The two flushed at the comment and heard the snickers and giggles from the other siblings.

“So...boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend.”

[writers-blogck]

Creeper in the Snow ( Karasuno x Manager!Reader )

Warning(s): Weird old man lol. Is this good, probably not. This is more of a crackfic than anything in my head. But here it is! Title: Creeper in the Snow Pairing: Karasuno x Manager!Reader Fandom: Haikyuu! Word Count: 2.047

        The cold cloud escaped your lips with every breath you took. Snow still lay on the ground from that night's storm. The roads were cleared though the sidewalks still had the inch or so of snow that hadn't melted at all with the rising sun. Your shoes would be soaked by the time you got to the gym but by then you could switch into your indoor shoes. All you had to do was get there and open up the gym before any of the team got there. 

        You were in charge of getting the gym set up before the team got there, or at least starting the process. It was normal for one of the boys to arrive at six-thirty to see the doors already open, net material brought out (you were too small to set it up by yourself without one of he poles falling on you), and freshly cleaned balls. On certain occasions, you went even earlier to set everything up for the boys. You were a second-year, though you got mistaken for a first-year often. Screw you chubby face! 

        This meant that it was your second year managing for the team and it would be a lie to say you hadn't gotten attached to your little family. So, what was the harm in doing something special every now and again? On Valentine's Day, you had made everyone chocolates and put cute hearts everywhere in the gym. Christmas, you went all out. Lights, a tiny tree (with gifts included), and anything you thought could make practice a bit more special. You would only be in high school together for so long, you wanted to make the most of it! 

        Today wasn't a special day, perhaps, but you were still out in the chilly weather at the ungodly hour of six a.m. on a Saturday. Why you may ask? Well, thank you for asking disembodied voice! You decided to be nice and get to the gym before the others to turn the heat on. This way, when they finally did arrive, they would enter a warm gym instead of what would feel like the icecream fridge at Ukai's store. Weren't you just an amazing manager?  Kiyoko had early lessons on the weekends and Yachi lived farther away than you. 

        It took one small metro ride and a twenty-minute walk to get to the school, but you didn't mind. You normally liked the time by yourself, it gave you time to think. Most days you would have one of your earbuds in to listen to music or some podcast but today, your phone and headphones were tucked away in your schoolbag. Today was not going to be a relaxing trip, not in the slightest. 

        Everything had been fine until you stepped off ar your stop, one you normally left alone. All of the other passengers had other stops to get to, you were the only regular passenger that got off this stop. It was hard to keep your stomach was sinking when you noticed a man in his late thirties get off at the same station. At first, you didn't think anything of it but when you noticed the man had his phone out, your anxiety began to swell. Was he following you? Perhaps he worked in the same area. You were just being ridiculous.

        As you went over the practice plans for the day, you noticed that even after five minutes of leaving the station, the man was still following you. You thought about the phone stuffed deep in your bag, hidden by your binders and pens that you had casually tossed in that morning. Should you call someone? Who would be up this early? You didn't want to wake someone up just because you were scared. You often worried over Hinata when he got hit by one of the volleyballs and ended up being called a worrywart. You overreacted to the tiniest little thing, this was just something like that. 

        Or so you wanted to believe. 

        As you saw the gym approaching, you shoved your numb fingers in to fish out the keys. The man had slowed down his pace but you still saw glimpses of him when you turned corners. You were ready to just be inside the gym and be able to lock yourself inside. The others could knock when they arrived, they would understand if you told them what happened, right? You were so close to your paradise when a loud cough startled you enough to drop the keys in the soft snow beneath. 

        "Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." It was the man with a friendly look on his face. Everything about him screamed of a normal man. He probably was a father or some upstanding businessman. He wasn't like the creeps the metros warned girls about. 

        "It's okay..."

        "I didn't know you were going to Karasuno or I might have walked with you. I'm here for a teacher's meeting? I've come from out of state and I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go. You go here, right? I was hoping that you could help me find my way to the library." 

        See, you were overreacting. He was just some lost teacher, that wasn't so bad. You could almost hear Tanaka and Nishinoya's voices teasing you about you being a scardey cat. You spent most of your time with the chaotic boys due to being in the same grade as them which led the three of you to form a strong connection. They always made fun of you for being so jumpy like Asahi. Maybe they were right, you were too skittish. 

        "Oh, well, all you have to do is-"        

        "I was hoping you could show me where the library was, I'm not good at remembering things. I used to be able to when I was a youngin but I can't seem to remember things as well anymore." He joked, taking a small step in your direction. Instinctively you took a step back of your own, hitting the locked doors of the gym. You could feel the hint of cold metal even through your clothes. 

        "My team will be arriving soon so I don't know if I have time-" 

        "Here, let me get that for you!" The older man kept interrupting you anytime you tried to object to his 'friendliness'. He bent down to grab the keys you dropped and just as you heard the click of him phone taking a photo, everything bubbled over. It all happened so fast! You could hardly tell what had even happened until it was all over and you could look back once everything calmed down. 

        The first thing that happened was the sound of a collective cacophony of male yelling. The creep had been shoved face-first into the cold snow with a foot pushing into his left hand with no care of how much force they were using. The phone he had been holding lay a few inches away before being picked up by someone else. You blinked owlishly as you finally looked up, taking in the entire chaotic situation around you. 

        Five boys were standing there, each with a unique expression on their face. Tanaka stood out the most as he had been the culprit who pushed the man into the snow. His foot didn't leave the creep's hand as he stared down at him with a snarl. There was that well-known Tanaka glare. He was one of the team members that was the most (outwardly) protective. If Noya had been there, they would be a deadly duo. No one could win against the two guard dogs of Karasuno! Still, your red-headed kouhai seemed to be taking the place of the rolling thunder warrior. He was just as bouncy, though he was staying a few inches behind Tanaka.

        Daichi had been the one to grab the phone, the terrifying dad look on his face. Suga's arms wrapped around you, pulling you away from the mass of bodies that were piling up and the chaos that was growing. The last one who had stayed silent from the sidelines was Asahi, a worried look in his eyes. Of course, all of the upperclassmen would be some of the first ones to arrive, that was normal. It was surprising to see Tanaka and Hinata so early and so awake. How many times had Tanaka stumbled in three minutes before practice started, jacket on backward, and a wild look in his eyes? 

        "You think you can get away with being a pervert to our precious manager, huh?! Delete those picture, you creep!" Tanaka's voice echoed across the empty schoolyard, the only other witnesses of the event being the birds high in the trees. All you could do was stand in confusion as the boys figured everything out. Tanaka was one to overreact but Daichi always had a level head. Seeing him with such a rage-filled look in his eyes was scary. Sure, the guy had made you feel uncomfortable but Tanaka didn't have to be so aggressive. 

        "I-Please..." The older man's cheek was becoming a bright red as the snow from his fall was sliding off slowly. His hand had to be going numb since he wasn't wearing any type of glove and Tanaka refused to move his foot. They had spoke about pictures....what had he taken a picture of? It was too early for you to put two and two together but the boys had seen it with their own eyes. The guy had been taking a photo of under your skirt as he 'helped you' with the keys. 

        "Don't try it!" Hinata bounced up, head peeking over Tanaka's shoulder as if the upperclassmen was a shield for him. It would have been funny if you weren't so confused about what was going on. 

        "He was just trying to get directions," You murmured to Sugawara, watching Asahi grab the keys and begin to open up the gym. It felt as if the boys were split into two different groups: the ones that were dealing with you and then the ones dealing with the old man. Sugawara and Asahi ushered you inside, leaving the other three to finish up what they were doing. Before the steel door shut you off from the outside, you heard the distinct sound of shattering glass as something was tossed to the ground. 

        Then they were gone, the door blocking out any noises that may come from outside. 

        How had that all happened in less than ten minutes? The clock read 6:45, fifteen minutes until the practice was supposed to start. You would have normally been here for nearly a half-an-hour before any of the boys showed up. You were thankful for whatever reason brought the boys here earlier than normal. What would have happened if they hadn't shown up? What had even happened to begin with?!

        "Are you alright?" Sugawara's hands were hovering over you like a worried mother as he brushed off any stray snow that may have gotten on you. They were right to call Suga the team's mom, he was the best at making sure everyone was okay. He knew exactly what to say at the right moment and always was there to lend a shoulder to lean on when you needed some help. 

        "Yeah...He was just asking for some directions, he said that he had a meeting in the library today."

        "There isn't a meeting today, is there?" Asahi spoke up, more to himself than anything. Suga shot a glare in his direction causing Asahi to quickly change his tone. 

        "Don't worry about it. Let's get it warmed up in here!" Asahi offered his kind smile, his hand resting on your smaller shoulder. 

        "I was planning on getting here early to do that but then that guy distracted me..."        

        "No worries, they say the cold can do the body some good." Suga glanced over his shoulder to flash a comforting look before going back to turning on the heat. Even though the room was filled with the chill of winter, you felt warm with the knowledge that you would always have your team to keep you safe.

[damienthepious]

[a small gentle shout] happee lizz kis tues

could stay right here

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Rilla, Sir Damien (but only asleep)

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, Early Relationship, Sleep, Literal Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, (yes two in a row. SUE ME.), Kissing, Singing, Banter

Summary: He isn't used to sharing a bed, just yet.

Notes: this was. supposed to be like... six hundred words, maybe? (sigh). enjoyy????? I hope? I don't know why i'm suddenly obsessed with Early Relationship One-Shots, but!!! apparently I am??? Heck. Title from the song Cement and Sunshine by Morningsiders!

~

Arum jerks awake as the bed shifts, a flash of panic gripping his lungs and squeezing-

Attack, he thinks, and then, won't let anyone hurt them. How- who-

Amaryllis.

She makes some small noise, presses her hands against his collarbone on either side, firm and sturdy, and he manages to suck in a breath that does not feel so strangled.

"Sorry," she says, her voice a breathy whisper by his ear as her hands keep him anchored, her thumbs rubbing soothing arcs against his scales. "Sorry, sorry- didn't mean to-"

Arum remembers. Remembers Damien curled against his left arms. He remains an unbothered, unconscious weight as Arum becomes aware of him again, and he remembers Amaryllis waving them off to bed before returning to her pile of five or six books and her recorder, an unmoveable fountain of determination, remembers awkwardly managing to ask- to ask that she join them, when she at last reached a stopping point, remembers her small, fond, knowing smile-

"It- it's- it's alright," he manages in a hiss, lifting one of his hands to curl around her wrist. "I'm alright. I-"

She leans back in the dark, beginning to draw away, and the panic moves, squeezing his heart instead. He grips her wrist more tightly, still careful of his claws despite his muddled awareness.

"Wait," he whispers, and the only reason he does not lean up to follow her is because he refuses to risk waking Damien beside him. "Don't- don't leave, I-"

She stills, and though he knows it is too dark for her vision she looks towards his voice, blinking against the black. She rests her weight on him again, her palms warm on his chest.

"I'm not leaving," she says, very gently. "It's alright, I promise. Let me just grab the blanket, that's all."

Arum has the sense that he should bristle at that, at her gentleness, her comforting tone, but his heart hasn't slowed yet, and his relief is too large to deny. He makes a noise, hopefully enough of an affirmative for her to interpret, and then he releases her wrist so she can lean back and gather the sheets from where he and Damien must have kicked them in their sleep.

She tugs them up over her shoulder and settles against his side with a small sigh, arranging the cloth to cover him as well, and then she leaves one hand over his heart, brushing slowly up and down.

He tries to slow himself down, to settle, to match his breaths to the motion of her hand, and after a few heartbeats it starts to come more easily.

"I'm sorry," Amaryllis says again, her voice a careful whisper. "I didn't mean to surprise you."

His chest rumbles quietly, a helpless almost-growl, and then he cautiously curls his arm around her, pulling her just the littlest bit closer. "I didn't mean to surprise you," he echoes, low and uncertain. "Jolting awake like that."

"You aren't used to this," she says. "It's okay."

"Used to-" he cuts off, frowning, trying to focus on not letting his rattling growl grow loud enough to wake Damien as well.

"This," she says, her palm pressing down on his scales. "This," she repeats, and then she presses her lips so, so gently to the scales at the crook of his neck.

Arum freezes for half a second, and then his body relaxes all at once, as if she has cast a spell over him with her kiss alone.

She isn't wrong, of course. It had been difficult enough for him to slip into slumber in the first place. Damien had positioned himself draped along Arum's side with a sigh and a kiss and Arum had laid utterly, exquisitely still until the poet drifted to unconsciousness, and then for what felt like rather a long time afterward. When sleep did find him, it must have been a rather fragile thing, considering how easily and violently it broke at Amaryllis' entrance.

"I... I suppose..."

"I mean, I get it. It took me a long time to get used to sharing a bed with Damien, actually," she says, her tone mild, and Arum blinks, glancing down at her musing expression.

"Why?" He frowns, unable to imagine a time- unable to imagine the pair of them at all separate, at all misaligned. They fit together so easily, without any apparent effort, enough so that at times he can hardly believe there was a time he did not know how intertwined they are.

"Because I was too used to sleeping on my own?" Her mouth curls, almost wry, as she traces nonsense shapes on his scales with the tip of her pointer finger. "I spent a long time alone in my hut, and even when I found people to fool around with I didn't usually spend the night. And I'm a really light sleeper in the first place, so it was a big change for me." She shifts slightly, readjusting the arc of his arms curled around her. "He rolled over onto me once, like, the third night we spent together, and I woke both of us up socking him in the nose."

Arum snorts, then holds his breath to keep from cackling a proper laugh. He gulps in a breath after a moment, feeling Amaryllis smiling against his shoulder, and he controls his voice carefully low as he responds. "A rather rude awakening for the poor knight, Amaryllis."

"I know," she rolls her eyes. "I felt awful about it, but- you know Damien. He apologized almost as many times as I did. Dummy."

Arum's heart does something unhelpful and twisting beneath the warmth of Amaryllis' palm, and he buries some rather embarrassing thoughts about the spun-sugar sweetness of their poet before he shakes his head.

"Completely absurd," he mumbles, and then, because he knows Amaryllis cannot see him do so, he tilts his head enough to press his snout gently to Damien's curls. Not quite a kiss by their human measures, but... he feels warmer, regardless, when Damien shifts almost imperceptibly closer at the contact.

"What I mean is..." she tilts her head, kissing his jaw this time. "It's alright. It's alright if it takes a while for you to adjust to things, or- or if you decide eventually that you'd rather not share a bed at all, for actually sleeping. That's fine too, that's an answer that's on the table."

"Don't be foolish," Arum grumbles, resisting the urge to tighten his grip. She's as close as she could possibly be, he reasons. The instinct to pull her closer regardless is nonsense. "I want- I would much rather-"

"I just want you to know that you don't have to do anything just because you feel like you should, that's all."

Arum presses his lips together, torn between gratefulness and indignation, and then he sighs. "I appreciate the... the effort towards clarity. It is not that I don't want the both of you here, beside me, though. I only... I cannot seem to... I am rather vividly aware of you. It is difficult to find rest, while my mind... lingers upon you."

"Ah," she breathes something like a laugh. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"I want you here," he says, trying to round off any ambiguity on that subject, and her breath flutters with another subtle laugh. "Clearly I managed sleep eventually. I'll do so again, I'm certain."

"Well," she says, her voice tilting breathier, richer, more warm with sleep, "if you're certain. Saints know I'm too tired to get antsy about it anyway."

With each moment, her weight settles more heavily against him, a more-than-welcome echo of the pressure of Damien's body on his other side, and he feels heavier as well as her breathing begins to slow. She'll drag him down into slumber with her, he thinks muzzily, and he can't suppress a subtle purr as her fingers continue to trace light, tingling lines on the scales above his heart.

"Just want you to be comfortable," she murmurs, and then she closes her eyes, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. "You don't get enough sleep. And yeah, yeah, I'm a hypocrite, before you even say anything."

He cuts off his retort before it begins, chuckling low, and he must truly be half asleep again already, because his next words come before he can think better of them, and he is halfway through his next murmuring sentence before he realizes that he is speaking.

"I can't understand how much you both... how..."

Amaryllis waits, drawing her fingers over his scales slowly, slowly, her eyes closed, but eventually when he fails to continue she makes a humming, questioning noise against his shoulder.

Arum swallows, shoring up his nerve since he has already begun to speak- he may as well say this now, while Damien sleeps soundly in his arms and Amaryllis cannot see whatever look is on his face.

"I cannot understand... how much trust you place in me. To... to sleep like this. It feels so... you are so vulnerable, Damien out of his armor, and you- it is so hard to- to understand- to reconcile that- that vulnerability and- to settle my own mind, while you both lie helpless and sleeping beside me. I want to pr- I can't- I cannot shake my awareness of your breathing, your heartbeats, and-"

Her hand stills above his heart; he wonders dizzily if she can feel the way it beats, faster with each passing word. He feels ridiculous- of course he does, he can hardly unravel his own thoughts while they still tangle, only half drawn into his waking mind, and he cannot even say if any of this coalesces into something that makes sense.

She turns in the darkness, unseeing, aiming her face towards his own, and then she trails her hand up from his chest, up his throat until she finds his jaw, the curve of his cheek, and then she turns his face towards her own. Ridiculous, he thinks fondly, since she still, obviously, cannot see him, but then she- she angles his head, presses a kiss against his mouth, and then she tilts both of their heads until their foreheads press together.

"You... you're saying you can't fall asleep because you're worried- you're worried about us? About- making sure we're safe."

"I don't-" Arum swallows roughly, nervously, his breath clicking at the base of his throat. "I don't know. I don't know what- what worries me, truly. I know- here in the Keep I know- obviously we are safe, but-"

Amaryllis kisses him again, gentle and warm in the dark, a tender press of lips against scales until his heart slows. She tips their foreheads together again, bites her lip, exhales a long sigh, and then she smiles so, so terribly softly with her palm caressing his cheek.

"And here I was worrying that you couldn't sleep because you weren't used to being so vulnerable," she whispers, and Arum resists the urge to flare his frill in embarrassment. "You- Saints. I- fuck, I could say so many different things right now, but I feel like every single one would embarrass you. I-"

Arum clamps his mouth shut, shrugs very gently with the shoulder beneath Amaryllis, and then he risks nuzzling forward again, gratified when she graces him with another kiss. "Save it for the morning, then," he murmurs. "You can embarrass me plenty when Damien is awake to make that precious wide-eyed expression about it."

Amaryllis shakes with silent laughter against him for a moment, kisses him one more time, and then resettles at his side with a warm, contented sigh.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep again?" she whispers, her breath tickling at the crook of his neck. "I'd hate to think that I..."

"I'm certain that I'll manage, Amaryllis."

"I can... I could sing for you. If you want me to."

Arum glances towards her, a little surprised by the hesitant note in her voice, the hint of something like shyness. "You..." he pauses, swallows, thinks better of simply announcing how utterly enthralling he is by her voice in song. "That would not wake our little knight, you don't think?" he hedges instead.

"I can sing quietly," she complains, her lips drawing together into something like a pout, her nose wrinkling almost too adorably to stand. "And besides, our little knight sleeps like a fucking rock, anyway." She curls closer towards him, nuzzling her nose into his neck, beside his frill with a sleepy growl. "Do you want a lullaby or not?

"Well..." Arum trails off, taking a moment to force the breathlessness out of his own voice. "Well. If my choices while in bed with you are a song or a punch in the nose, I certainly won't complain about the former-"

She gasps, scowls in mock offense and swats at his side as he bites back the urge to chuckle, and then she settles her hand over his heart again, pressing down.

"Oh you just wait, you complete brat-"

"Are you going to sing or not, little doctor?"

"Hush," she growls, pressing her face into his neck. "Hush up and I will. Absolute brat."

Arum breathes another laugh, helpless against it, and then he settles, and after a moment her fingers start drumming a little pattern against his scales. With the rhythm of his heart, he realizes, and then a moment later she begins to sing, soft and husky and mostly breath, close against his neck.

He doesn't expect it to work, truly. She is so present, they both are, his awareness of their heat and their proximity such a vivid tether in his mind, impossible to ignore. Her song, her voice- everything about her is ethereal, stunning, gorgeous, of course, but he does not expect that even that could draw him down, pinned between their fragile resting bodies.

In the morning, though, he will not even remember the second verse.

[banashee]

Hi Folks, welcome to my third fic for the Archival Pride 2021 project! Look at their tumblr for more info :) @archivalpride

Archival Pride 2021, Week three (June 15-21) Prompts: Love Languages, Doubt, Post-Canon, Intimacy, Home

The key words I've used here are Post-Canon, Home and Intimacy

-

- Off-screen Arguments - scars - Trauma recovery - brief but canon-typical violence - References to Canon-Stabby-Stabby in MAG200 - mention of coma, no details - reference to homophobic Parent

-

 A Second Chance

 Some days, it still feels like a dream. That they are here, together, that they get to have this. A home, a life - a second chance at everything.

 It’s been almost two years since the panopticon collapsed in an explosion, almost two years since Jon and Martin woke up… Here. “Somewhere else” they called it then, but now they simply call this place “home”. More precisely, they do so because first and foremost, they are home to each other.

 Even back when in the Institute, when both of them successfully managed to convince themselves their feelings for each other were one-sided, the few and far moments where they actually had time to themselves were precious. Even when Jon had woken up from his coma and Martin was working for Peter Lukas, just a small brush of hands or a quick hug in the hallway had felt like the only safe place left in the world. Just for a moment, before they had to move on, more alone than ever before.

 By the time Martin was deep in the Lonely and Jon had pulled him out, taken his hand and not let go until they were safely in Daisy’s little safehouse in the Scottish Highlands where no one would be able to find or hurt them. Or at least, that had been the plan… It only lasted for a little while.

 Still, even though the end of the world started there, the days and weeks they had before are precious to Jon and Martin to this day. It’s those weeks where they had a chance to really get to know each other, outside of work and countless terrifying encounters with the Fears.

 Days spent talking in front of the fireplace, curled up around each other or not talking at all. Especially on the bad days, when everything hits them at once, it is a little bit easier to deal with everything while they’re together. Cooking together, stepping around each other in the kitchen when they tried recipes neither of them had ever tried before, laughing at and playfully chiding each other when everything turns into a big mess.

 Hugs and kisses shared at the most random of times, just because they realized they can do this now.

 Over time, they shared a few personal bits and pieces. After the first time they  shared the bed, to be close and to keep the nightmares at bay, they started talking about their needs and boundaries.

 “I love you, and I love being close to you. But I, I also need you to know that… Well, I won’t be able to give you more than this. I don’t…  sleep with people. In, well, in      that     sense.” Jon had blushed and stammered his way through explaining what Asexuality means to him, and it is met with love and acceptance. He started to breathe a little bit easier then.

 A little while later, Martin told him about the disaster that was his coming out to his Mum. He didn’t mean to, he said that day in the safehouse with a bitter smile as he shook his head, but he’d hit a breaking point. One too many homophobic remarks, one too many unhappy sneers.

 “One day, I just. Snapped. Couldn’t take the bullshit anymore. I don’t even remember exactly what I      said     to her, but she was... “ Martin shook his head.

 “Not happy.” He laughed, but it wasn’t happy by any means. Jon understood all too well, and reached out with one hand, an offer to hold on tight, which Martin happily took him up on.

 “She didn’t… Like me very much before, I don’t think. Or, well, I      know     that now, but… But ever since I told her I am gay, that certainly didn’t help things. She never met any of my boyfriends or anything, but, well. That’s robably for the best.”

 Only a short while after this conversation, the world ended. After months and months of walking through a hellscape, they finally   arrived back in what once was London. Back at the institute - the tower of the Watcher.

 Once they got their chance to kill Elias and destroy Jonah Magnus, things… Went differently than planned.

 Even years after the fact, long long after, Jon and Martin wake up from vivid nightmares. The memories, both real and twisted, leave them sobbing and calling out for each other. Each time, they end up wide awake for hours, holding onto one another to try and keep the other from getting lost again. Dealing with everything is very much a work in progress.

 Guilt eats Jon up from the inside. He is talking about it, at least he does now, but the feelings are still there, sitting on his chest and taking his breath away. The guilt about walking off on his own and leaving everyone else, including Martin behind is one of the worst he’s ever felt, and even though they have talked and worked through this particular issue for a long time, Jon is still struggling with it. The main problem is that didn’t see another way, did what he thought was best. Now he knows there wasn’t a right decision in the situation they found themselves in, only damage control.

 But on a personal level? Yes, he screwed up, and he knows it.

 The scar on his chest hurts those nights, like a fresh wound. Jon finds himself clutching it, without even realizing that he is doing so. If he was, he would try to stop himself from it, but every time his hands rub over the place in the middle of his chest, when breath leaves his lungs for a while, he can tell that Martin’s eyes go blank and he hates himself a little bit more for having caused so much pain. .

 How often Martin wakes up in the middle of the night, dreaming again and again about that fateful day that ended with him stabbing the love of his life with a knife, he has long lost count. But it hurts, worse than anything else, and the memory alone sends him spiralling for a long time.

 If the Fears had any more power here, there is no doubt that Martin would find himself surrounded by thick, white fog those nights, cold and damp and utterly alone even with another person in the room.

 He’d spent months - years really - keeping it together just to keep going, doing what needed to be done and be there for the people around him. It’s what he’s always done, isn’t used to anything else, but Jon knows him well enough to recognize the signs and stop Martin before he destroys himself any further.

 “Let me take care of you.      Please    - You don’t have to keep going all the time.”

 Somehow, even with all the trauma and heartbreak, the two of them manage to form one functioning human being together when they can’t manage to be one on their own. On the really bad days, that is enough.

 Martin and Jon  have their hiccups - but they know just how much they adore one another, and that is usually enough to make them see reason even when things get hard.

       Especially in the first few weeks Somewhere Else, there is a lot of confusion and pain. Years of trauma and injuries they are unable to explain to anyone, because how do you explain even a fraction of the fears and the apocalypse they have walked through? None of it has happened here. This is a world that has never ended, and although the Fears certainly exist here, they are in the shadows, where they belong. As far as they can tell, none of the rituals have happened here, and the entities just. Exist, but don’t do nearly as much harm as Jon and Martin have experienced.

 So seeking out help, let alone from professionals, is hard. Lord knows, they need it - it takes the two of them countless trials to find individual therapists for themselves, and even longer to find one to attend for couples counseling who won’t make their skin crawl with anxiety. There are issues that need to be addressed, and it is hard to start somewhere.

 Some sessions are much, much harder than others. Unpacking the baggage is logical, it is something that needs to be done in order to deal with the trauma, but for a long time, it just hurts. It hurts, having to open up about things that are so deeply personal, and even though both Martin and Jon have come up with cover stories for their situation, they still have to work on all the emotions and the things that happened to them and their loved ones.

 Some days, either one or both of them will come home from a therapy session and simply collapse into bed. Most times, all they want then is to hold each other. Other times, they talk, but more often than not, being able to listen to each other's heartbeat as they shake apart or fall asleep from exhaustion is enough.

 Especially at first, when everything is still fresh, when the scars are still pink, raised and puckering, things are hard.

 Surprising no one, coming from a literal hellscape into a normal, relatively calm world, is a total whiplash. Things are tense between Jon and Martin for a bit. They want to stay together, because they love each other deeply - there was never any doubt, not even a bit. But there are some situations, issues and decisions that they need to adress.

 While things are still sore, it results in a number of exhausted, tearful arguments that leave both of them absolutely drained and limp from overwhelming sadness. The arguments themselves never last long, because both Martin and Jon are quick to make up and apologize after, but the feelings of exhaustion and heartbreak stay for long after.

 The arguments pull on wounds and it hurts. There really is no other way to put it. More often than not, Martin and Jon spend the night with no sleep, wrapped around each other so tightly it is almost painful. Holding onto one another is all they can do sometimes to keep each other from falling apart at the seams.

 Weeks turn into months, months turn into a year and so on. Both Jon and Martin have come a long way since they arrived here - they no longer call it “Somewhere else”. Their trauma still sits deep, but has become much, much more of a quiet background pain that occasionally comes out to play, rather than being a constant, stabbing sensation that leaves them bleeding and breathless, unable to function. Those days, thankfully, have become rare.

 They start to live, instead of just surviving.

 It is around that time that they decide they want to get out of the city. London, whether back in the old world or here, is not a quiet place to be, but now that they are free, they take the opportunity and run with it.

 A little bit of time passes, and between days spent walking hand in hand through the nearby park, nights curled up on the couch with books and tea and day jobs and even occasional evenings in the pub with coworkers, they find themselves standing in their empty apartment. All there is left is a single cardboard box and a potted plant, both of which are held by the two men who spent the last year and a half there.

 “...Jon?”

 “Yes, Love?”

 “I had no idea we had      so much     stuff, until we started to pack it all up.”

 “We do. I’m… Not entirely sure when that happened to be honest.”

 “....I believe somewhere between us starting to actually       do     things, and you discovering that tiny bookshop which I’m convinced should have been empty by now, thanks to you.”

 “Yes. And also the plants. Don’t forget your leafy children, Martin.” Jon leans into Martin’s upper arm for a moment, a small smile on his face. He would have pulled him into an embrace, but since Martin holds the last of their moving boxes, filled to the brim with books, and Jon’s arms are currently wrapped around the pot of a fairly tall dracea, just leaning in must be enough. The plant pokes far over his shoulder, long, dark green leaves lazily moving with him as he holds onto it, tight and secure.

 ‘Martha’ says a small, handwritten label on the pot, carefully stuck near the edge of the pot. Giving the plants human names had started out as a joke, a throwaway sentence, but then they bought more and more plants, and so a new tradition was born.

 “...To be fair, I had no idea there were so many until we had to get them all into the van.”

 “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of space in the new house that looks empty. Not for long though, knowing you.”

 Martin smiles at him, propping the box against himself. This thing is heavy - as small as their old flat is, it hasn’t stopped Jon from starting to form their own library throughout the living room. Truth be told, he is looking forward to seeing it expand once they’re settled into their new space. It'll be a fun opportunity to bicker over the proper way to sort them.

 (“By      colour    ?? Martin, Dear, Love of my life, what the       fuck    . You’ve worked in a      Library    for years!” Jon will ramble on in disbelief, and Martin will cackle to himself, knowing he managed to rile his boyfriend up about something that isn’t important at all. He knows they actually agree that books need to be sorted by Author’s names. But where would be the fun in admitting that right away?)

 “Ready to go?” he asks, and waits for his partner's affirmative nod before the two of them leave the apartment, for one last time.

 It’s time for a new chapter in their new life, and they’re more than ready to start it.

 The first morning in their new house, they are woken up by a fresh breeze coming through their bedroom window. It carries the scent of pine needles and damp earth with it. The birds outside are already singing the song of their people and have been doing so for hours, long before most humans are conscious. Waking up like this is bliss, even though the bed is about the only thing that is actually done in this room.

 There are boxes everywhere and their wardrobe is only halfway assembled, but the bed is comfortable and decked out in fresh covers that still smell of washing powder. Everything is fresh and new and feels a little bit like they’re on a holiday. Maybe someday, it will become their new normal, but as of now, it feels like a fresh start.

 As always, it’s Martin who wakes up first. He can smell the fresh, woodsy air, and it relaxes him in an instant. There is a small forest right by their house. It is at the end of the street where only a few more old, slightly lopsided houses are nearby. It is perfect for them.

 On their search for a new home, it was clear they wanted to go somewhere more rural, somewhere remote. Ever since the Lonely, Martin is struggling with too many people around him. He can go about his everyday life if he has to, but days with too many people and too much social interaction leave him sad and exhausted from pretending to be fine and peachy with it.

 It doesn’t help that many of the houses they looked at are seaside cottages. As beautiful as they look on the photos, conveniently taken on days with clear blue skies, this is England. There are way more rainy days filled with grey, suffocating fog, and that alone is enough to send Martin back into a full blown panic attack. It’s too much, way too much like the Lonely. Needless to say, they filtered their searches accordingly.

 Eventually, everything clicks into place and they find their dream house in a small residential area with little traffic and even less people. The quiet of the countryside makes both of the breathe easier-  it reminds them a little bit of their time in Scotland, even though the landscape isn’t nearly as raw here. They may or may not have found a field of very good cows nearby though.

 The cool breeze of the morning air makes Martin shiver a bit, and he pulls the covers a little bit tighter around himself and Jon. Predictably, his partner takes this as an invitation to adjust his octopus grip that he has around him to get even closer as he sleepily grumbles,

 “...Just five more minutes.”

 “Make it an hour and we’re good, Love.” With gentle fingers, he starts to detangle the long strands of hair that surround Jon. There is even more grey than there was only a few years ago - no surprise, what with all of the stress and trauma they have lived through.

 All that Martin gets in response to this is a low hum as Jon tightens his hold around him once more as he breathes a small trail of kisses along the side of his neck and up his jaw.

 He knows that Morning-Jon is not talkative, at all, but he knows him long and well enough to understand what he is telling him, even when he is half asleep himself.

 “I love you, too.”

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 9

Chapters: 9/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

On a Tuesday in the middle of November, not long after Gerry's 28th birthday, the three of them eat dinner at Gerry's flat, as they often do these days. Jon cooks for them and after, Martin and Gerry wash the dishes and debate the book they both just finished reading.

Jon has been twitchy all evening, so they leave him to read his own book in peace.

He wanders in at one point, leaning against the counter. "Gerry, do you know what day it is?"

Gerry looks over at him in such a way as to indicate that he really doesn't.

"Our six-month anniversary?" He tries.

"No," Martin pipes up, "That's not for weeks yet."

Jon and Gerry both look at him askance. "What? Your boyfriend starts dating another man, you remember the date. I can't believe you two don't know." Martin says as if that about covers it.

"Nevermind that." Jon snaps, and even with his previous moodiness, the others are taken aback at his blunt words and even harsher tone.

"Something wrong, Jon?" Gerry asks quietly, leaning against the opposite counter to Jon and crossing his arms. His tone suggests what he actually wanted to say was 'Do we have a problem here, bitch?' but he manages to reign the actual words in.

"I want to know why you left without saying goodbye." Jon's words are filled with a multitude of frustrations, none of which are actually conveyed in his limited words.

"Yesterday?" Gerry asks, incredulous. "You were asleep!"

"No! Not yesterday." Jon snaps back. "When we were younger. It's been ten years today since you disappeared off the face of the planet."

"Oh," Gerry responds quietly, his defensive posture dropping. He leans his hands back on the table behind him, bringing his shoulders up around his ears. It’s a rare display of confident, edgy Gerry trying to shrink himself.

"I thought we were, you know. Together. Then one day you were just gone! As if you had never existed. Your mother wouldn't tell me anything at all, just sat there smirking at me, said that you were gone and she didn't know when you were coming back, or if you were ever coming back. Which you never did, actually." Jon has been pacing, his voice rising with each new word until the final words are shouted accusatorily into the space between them.

Gerry knew Jon had wanted to talk about this since the day he walked in the library and back into his life. He had waited, been patient, and Gerry had put it off in the hopes that he would never have to choke the words out. Now, that patience was obviously over, and he knew he owed Jon this explanation.

"We were together Jon. I loved you."

"So why? What did I do so wrong, that I got to wake up one day and find you gone ?" Jon's voice has become desperate, and they can all hear the tears that he is trying to hold back.

"Don't say that. You didn't do anything wrong. We weren't perfect, but we were always so good together. I... I had to get out of there. And I couldn't leave any clues behind, so I couldn't tell you anything, because it wouldn't have been safe for either of us." Gerry reaches towards Jon to soothe him, but he flinches away and Gerry doesn't pursue him.

"I don't understand." The tears have come, and Gerry desperately tries to hold back his own when he sees them.

Martin had up until that point been standing resolutely in the corner, trying not to interfere in their pre-Martin argument. At the advent of tears, Martin moves to stand at Jon's back, gripping his shoulder for comfort. Gerry looks bereft and Martin holds out a hand to get him to come closer as well. They huddle all together, both Jon and Gerry taking comfort in Martin's steadiness.

Gerry leans into Jon, sliding his hand around his neck and pressing their foreheads together. "I'm so sorry, love. I've never forgiven myself for just disappearing on you. I thought about you every day."

"I love you," Jon whispers as Martin rocks them both gently. "But I need to know."

"I love you too." Gerry shuts his eyes and wishes more than ever to erase his shitty legacy of pain and blood.

*

Martin drags them to bed and offers to leave them alone to their talk.

"Please stay," Gerry says, grasping his hand. "You both need to know, and I don't want to have to talk through this twice."

So they all pile into Gerry's bed together, sitting in a vague circle like teenagers at a slumber party.

As Gerry starts to talk, Martin drags him over toward him and begins braiding his dark blue hair. It's both an offer of physical comfort and affection (easily Gerry's main love language) and a simple way of letting him off the hook for eye contact.

With Jon staring at him quite intently, Martin doesn't think he needs any further pressure.

"Jon, you-" He starts and then halts abruptly. Jon reaches over and grasps his hand, attempting to further ground him. "You remember my mother. I know you saw how, how just off she was. Manipulative and controlling. By turns demanding and completely uninterested in me. One day I would be free to run wild for weeks at a time, the next she would have a meltdown if I wasn't exactly where she wanted me, every second of the day and night." Gerry blows a breath out, shuddering at the memory of a particularly bad incident with a vase that had left him needing several stitches over his left eye.

"Well, she wasn't always like that. I remember her being a pretty good mom when I was young, if distant. She was always far more interested in being a wife than a mother, and she loved the way my father adored her.

“When I was 7, my father was blinded in an accident at work. I remember the day the phone call came. She spoke very calmly to the hospital, before hanging up the phone and shattering every picture frame in the house." Martin is finished with Gerry's hair and simply leans into him, offering silent comfort. "He coped okay with his new disability actually, and I liked helping him learn the world again with no sight. My mother never recovered from her initial breakdown though. She was angry and petulant that she needed to help and support him for the first time in their entire relationship and became more and more unhinged over the course of a year.

"One day I came home from school to find a puddle of blood soaked into the floor of the living room. She said there had been an accident and my father wasn't coming back. She hit me for the first time when I cried. She told me that I was a man now, and tears were for useless girls and disgusting… Well, you get the picture."

Gerry pauses and glances between them. A few tears have started to run down his face, but he doesn't seem to even notice them.

"We moved a few days later, and that was all I ever knew about my father's death until I was eighteen, almost ten years later. I'll spare you the horrid details, but as I'm sure you've already guessed, she murdered him. She explained very, very graphically what she had done with the body, and that she would never be caught, no one would ever think to blame her, even if anyone could ever prove that he was dead at all."

The words hang heavy in the air between the three of them. Gerry feels the comfort of their touches, but can hardly stand the affection anymore. He gets up off the bed and goes to look out the bedroom window, arms crossed and posture hard.

"Then she looked me right in the eye. And she told me that was exactly what would happen to Jon if she ever caught me with him again."

Dead, cold silence fills the room.

Gerry turns back around to find them both watching him. "So, I packed whatever I could fit into my duffle bag, and I got the hell out of dodge. I ran. I ran because I couldn't close my eyes at night with seeing your face white and cold and covered in blood and," he breaks off and takes a shuddering breath, covering his eyes and sinking to his knees. "And I couldn't stand that she would hurt you because of me. That all your light and potential would be ripped away from you in blood and pain and nothing I felt for you could make even the risk of that worthwhile."

He lifts his head to look up at them, where they’ve moved to the side of the bed towards him. “And do you want to know what the worst part is, actually? I can’t get over the idea that even though I haven’t seen Mary Keay in 10 years, the ghost of her demons lives inside of me. That I'm really just… Her. That one day my mind will snap and I'll be a danger to you both and I'll be the one hurting you, just like she hurt him. And then I'll just be the same monster who has always haunted my dreams."

Martin and Jon exchange a heavy look. They can scarcely believe that Gerry had endured so much and yet is still… Gerry. Happy, flirtatious, loving Gerry. Gerry, who fills their lives with colour and spontaneity, always showing up when they least expected him, pushing himself into their gravity and asking for space in their lives.

Despite the rather violent nature of Gerry's confession, it doesn't change anything for either of them. Things are not yet settled between them, but they curl around Gerry on the floor and they cry together over shattered innocence and sacrificed futures, and Jon promises himself that he will never let Mary Keay come between him and Gerry ever again.

[seungsilog]

Dear Someone, I’ll Be Better Off Without You.

Pairing: Female!OC x Lee Minho

Genre: Angst, College!AU

Word Count: 1.16k words

Warnings: mentions of someone in a slump(?), insecurities, breakup

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @puffyjisung​ (send me an ask or dm me if you want to be added!)

Good morning, afternoon, evening, whatever time you’re listening to this! Welcome to the podcast, where I, Han Jisung, your host — speaking of, should I find a DJ name for myself too? Like, that one podcast has DJ Joohoney right? I should think of something for myself. 

Anyways, continuing on! This episode, a letter has been written by our Music Director, Ina! I won't make this too long, as this episode might get too long. I asked for a letter, not a novel. If only you guys can see this, holy crap. It's like 3 pages back to back, oh my gosh. I would read this all on air but it would take ages, so we just shortened the letter and might just publish this letter on our website! I doubt you would be able to read Ina's chicken scrawl, though— ok geez, I'll start! Stop looking at me like that!

Dear Someone,

I'm better off I’ll be better off without you.

Do you remember when we first met? It was freshman year, during the university's festival. You weren't as confident back then, sticking to your group of friends most of the time. The only time you left their side was when they convinced you to talk to me after they saw you sneaking a peek at me. Looking back now, I cringe thinking about our origin story, but freshman Ina thought it was cute. So cute, in fact, that I let you take me out on a date the day after. And even though you spilt soda on me five minutes into the date, the giant stuffed cat and the shy peck on the cheek made it all better.

Fast forward two years, and you managed to weasel your way into my life. You became my best friend, my lover, my anchor all in one. College life was hard, but the assurance that you would be sitting in our spot in the coffee shop on campus, waiting with my favorite drink fueled me to get through my day.

But as many positives there were with you, the negatives were also there.

I became too comfortable. I stood only within the confines of my little bubble consisting of schoolwork and my relationship with you. Everything was just the same, repeating day after day, and it took a toll on me. I made my whole life revolve around you, and somewhere along the line, I forgot that there is more to life besides those two things.

I never really improved from who I was when I entered college, but you certainly have. No longer were you the timid, puffy-faced boy I met back then. You’ve come so far, becoming one of the most confident, talented people this school has ever produced, and I can’t help but feel proud every time I realize that.

Sadly, I can’t say the same for myself.

I love you. I love you so much, Lee Minho. Thank you for always being there, for the past two years. I’ll always be proud of you, but I need to take some time to improve myself so that hopefully, i can be someone you can be proud of too. This self-improvement journey of mine might take some time, but as my mother used to say, if we are truly meant to be together, destiny will find its way to bring us together once again. See you around, I guess.

Forever grateful, 

Ina.

P.S. I think I used the wrong phrase on my keyword, so I erased it aha. I started this letter in spite... so yeah. I’m not sure if I really will be better off without you, but I guess only time will tell.

Han Jisung’s voice floated through the earbuds and into Lee Minho’s ears as he sat in an armchair, eyes filled with unshed tears. He hadn't known she felt that way towards herself, and if only he had communicated with her better-

He cuts off his inner monologue after seeing a familiar face approach his table. 

“I take it you’ve listened to Jisung’s new podcast episode, hyung?” Hwang Hyunjin, with his freshly dyed black hair, takes a seat in front of Minho, ignoring the older’s protests and settling down with his croissant and iced americano. “Come on, hyung. You can talk to me about this. We’ve known each other for ages!”

“And by ages, you mean half a year?”

“Tomato tomato. It feels way longer. I think being coped up in a studio with each other has that effect.”

“... Touche.”

“ So? How do you feel?” the younger boy inquires, taking a sip from his americano.

Minho took a while to respond, thinking of words to properly describe how he felt at that moment. 

“If I’m being honest? I don’t have a clue either. It’ll take a lot for me to get over Ina.” After taking a sip of his own drink, he continued. “Two years, almost three isn’t a short time. It was through her that I became who I am today. It was because of her, that I strived to become a better person. It was because of her that I was able to grow, but..” A soft sigh escaped his lips. 

“But at the cost of my growth came her dullness.” Hyunjin made a noise of confusion, muffled by the bread stuffed in his mouth. “Woft dwoh yu mean, hyunf?” 

“The thing that really drew me to her that day was just how… vibrant she was. Well, she was standing below a streetlight, but really. It sounds cliche, but if only you could’ve seen her. Wearing a bright yellow shirt, talking excitedly about how fun this experience was going to be. She was truly the light of the party back then, well, college happened. We’re all busy, but they were especially. Even Channie disappears for days at a time coped up in his room to finish a project. He only got a significant other this year! Ina barely had any time to do anything else aside from meeting me and doing schoolwork. I guess she realized that, and uh, yeah. That brings us here.” Minho looked up at Hyunjin, only to see him invested in something on his phone.

 “ Yah, why did I even bother telling you.” 

You see, dear listeners. Sometimes, relationships don’t turn out the way we want it to go. We think entering a new thing will all be sunshine and rainbows, and it might lead to an ultimatum; having to choose between self-gratification and self-improvement. In Ina’s case, she chose to leave not because she lost feelings, because that’s definitely not the case- ouch! When will you stop throwing things at me? But yes, she chose to leave because she wanted to grow, wanted to get herself out there for a bit, just as hyung had done. That does not mean that all hope is lost for them, though. Maybe someday, when the both of them are ready, their romance will continue again.

-`, leri’s litol notes

here is the second installment! ;-; i hope you guys like it hehe