#yes this is just after finishing Chapter 10 which talks about dream casts

[cjbolan]

My Yellowface Dream Cast So Far…

Gemma Chan/Constance Wu as Athena Liu:

Anne Hathaway/Anna Kendrick as Juniper “Song” Hayward:

Antony Starr as Justin:

John Cena as Harvey:

[androxys]

20 Questions for Fic Writers Tag Game

Thank you @cuephrase for the tag!

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

Time of posting, I have 18 fics publicly available under my name. I have one or two tucked away in anonymous collections though.

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

343,227!

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Right now I'm pretty heavily involved in the DC Universe. There are a few different characters within DC that I like to write for, but it's primarily Batman and his expanded cast. At one point I had a pretty lengthy original work series up too, but I've moved it out of the public sphere because a) I don't personally feel it's within the AO3's mission and b) I keep telling myself I'm going to polish it and see if it can go anywhere.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Can't Prove It - Murder-mystery AU where Jason never died and Tim joins the family. I understand its popularity entirely.

What Does the Fourth of July Mean to You? - Timber identity reveal fic set around a Wayne family cookout. This is also one where I understand why people like it. It's a fun romp.

Deux ex Machina - Jason and Death of the Endless. People really like the fics I write with Jason in them, and I think this one got bumped when the Sandman TV show came out.

Bernard Dowd Week 2022 - 7 fics at 500 words each celebrating Bernard. I'm honestly surprised this one is all the way at #4! This was written pretty soon after Tim and Bernard started dating, so it was fun to celebrate the relatively new status quo for Bernard.

Cautionary - Steph and Jason talking. This is the first fic I ever posted, and honestly I have to suspect that its age is what's buoyed it up. I love that people love it, but it's one I look at now and think about how I would remaster it.

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes! I love chatting with folks on AO3. I think there's only ever been one comment I ever chose not to respond to, and it was because the person was just asking me to update an unrelated fic.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Can't Prove It. I won't say any more than that.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

My Kingdom for a Thin Mint is really fluffy, which is nice. Other than that, Fourth of July.

8. do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, none so far!

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, but all my currently published smut is in anonymous collections, and the rest is still in my drafts while I try to figure out how to make this blowjob plot bearing.

EDIT: Wait I'm an idiot, yes I wrote Tim/Bart/Kon smut for a Thanksgiving joke challenge. People with superpowers like to tease their friend.

10. do you write crossovers?

I have! The Vigilante is a Welcome to Night Vale crossover, written in the style of a WTNV script. Ghost Dragon is a gen Miraculous Ladybug fic (I know, I know) set in the Batman: Reborn era that reimagines the Miraculouses as having a connection to DC's Lords of Order and Chaos. I took a break from it to dive deeper into the lore, but then never got back around to actually finishing the fic.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, and I hope it doesn't happen!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. Right now my fics live exclusively in the Anglosphere.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't, but one of my dream projects is to do a round robin-esque, comic book event style fic where three or four authors each write a single chapter with a single character following their own plot, where the chapters all add up to a larger story.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Ooh, this is tough. Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon are eternally one of DC's premier couples in my mind... they have history together, they're both stubborn, they know each other like the backs of their hands.

Overall, I'd say I'm pretty ship neutral. It's just not the primary thing that pulls me through media. Write it compellingly, and I'll probably go for it.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I had brief and lofty dreams of a reimagined Final Crisis fic that was a little more Kirby and a little less Morrison. (The fact that it would have more of my favorite characters was a perk) It's just a big project to really get into, and I don't know if it'll ever fully get there.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmm... it's always hard to pull our praise for yourself, because I think most artists often get stuck on seeing the things that didn't quite make the leap from their head to the world. That said, I think my dialogue is pretty good--I generally try to make it always sound like characters talk like real people. I'm also fond of big Plots with moving parts, though I fully accept that's something I'm still in the process of working on.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't often do it, but I do actually have thoughts about it, so I was glad to see this question! Personally, I have come to be against italicizing non-English words. I did it in Ghost Dragon when characters were speaking French, but whenever I update the fic I'm going to change it.

I only like to write dialogue in another language if the characters/readers are not necessarily supposed to immediately understand what's being said. In the case of Ghost Dragon, I had parallel chapters--in Ch 1 we know what the characters are saying, because we're meant to understand them, even though they're technically speaking in French the whole time. But in Ch 2, when it's from a non-French speaker's POV, I write out the French dialogue because the francophones are specifically trying to have a conversation between themselves, excluding those who they think can't understand them.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

First fandom I ever wrote for was either Batman or Star Wars, but which one is anyone's guess.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

I wish The Town O'Mallow got some more love, because it's probably my favorite thing I've written so far. Jean Paul Valley and Selina Kyle go into a Southern Gothic Omelas to save a soul. Other than that, I'm pretty excited for this Oracle: Year One fic I'm working on currently.

I'll pass on some no-pressure tags to @zahri-melitor @upswings @havendance @scintillyyy and @silverwhittlingknife, but if any of y'all have already done this or just don't want to, no pressure! And if anyone else sees this and wants to answer, take this as your tag! Just tag me back so I can see ❤️

[anothertimdrakestan]

Mommy Issues (Damian Wayne x Reader)

words: 2.2k

req? yes! from a lovely anon!

“Can I request a Damian x Reader soulmate AU fic where you write on your skin and it appears on your soulmate? I had this idea where reader doodles on her arm in class and Dami doodles back, and they start sending little notes in class and one day they ask for each other's names and just look cross the class and lift their arm? and then the school is under villain attack or something and Dami rescues her! I think it could be really cute<3 sorry for the long request”

this is too cute!!! 10/10 great idea i hope my writing brought it to life for you : ) hope you enjoy thank you for the req!

no notes today? you looked at the ink on your arm one last time before rolling down your sleeve. The notes and doodles had just recently started but you’d grown attached quickly- they were from your soulmate after all. However, today was silent, your notes exchanged last night had been washed off before you had woken up and there was nothing waiting for you. This seemed normal at first, whomever your soulmate is, they were always the first to remove the notes, most of the time before the sun fell for the days notes and similarly before dawn for the occasional late night writing. This was strange behavior as most everyone let their soulmates notes and doodles linger until they were just faint ink splotches, but your soulmate was diligent to never leave a trace.

You couldn’t help yourself, pulling up your sleeve to look for an answer but there was none. It was strange as whenever you were in english was when your soulmate was most active. English, what started as the most boring, dull class slowly shifted into the class you remember most fondly. Relishing in the slight tickle that comes from your soulmate drawing little pictures or little notes across your forearm you learned to appreciate the boring lectures your teacher gave as they made the perfect cover for getting to know your soulmate. 

So far, you’d learned your soulmate was a he, with some wild artistic talent, even though he was always complaining about his pen bleeding through the small crinkles in skin as he tried to draw various pictures on your arm. It had only been around a couple days or so since lettering began to show, typically soulmates can start drawing pictures and whatnot that will show through a month or two before lettering fades through the bond as well, then finally your name will bleed through onto the base of your soulmates wrist, giving away the secret to your penpal. As is fate makes you patiently wait your turn, falling in love with the little doodles and notes until you finally know exactly who your soulmate is. 

Your day dreaming was cut short by the familiar tickle on your forearm. Trying to keep calm you slid your sleeve back and watched as the beautiful penmanship appeared. As he wrote you admired the sloppy but exquisite writing, a mix of cursive for speed and lettering for flair that exuded a kind of careless confidence- at least that’s what you’d determined from hours of pouring over the little notes on your skin.

Apologies for the delay, hectic day. You smiled at the formal-ness of the message as it seemed he slipped into that type of writing when he was distracted- god, you needed to stop obsessing over every last detail of the writing. You grabbed your pen, considering what to write back before the tingling started again. 

Do you go to GCHS as well? Your heart stopped at the message. Quickly you scribbled back, Yes! I do! You waited for a reply, scanning your class realizing that anyone there could be your soulmate. 

There was no wordy reply, but you felt large swooping curves begin to bleed onto your skin meaning your soulmate was drawing something. “Y/n care to give us an answer?” your head snapped from your arm to your professor, your pen which you had been toying with sliding down your neck as you flinched, almost assuredly leaving a black line down your neck. Slapping a hand on your neck you looked at your professor who was asking about last night's reading, a section you definitely did not do. “I gotcha y/n it was in Chapter 39!” your classmate Jack called from the other side of the classroom, giving you a wink as he turned his attention back to the teacher. “That so? Can you confirm 39 was the chapter?” the teacher turned back to you with a glint in his eyes daring you to accept that answer. 

“It was 41, can we move on now?” A voice echoed with boredom from the back of the class. “Ah mister Damian, welcome back, you know I’ll have to mark you tardy for class,” you let out a sigh of relief glancing back at Damian with a thankful smile, but his eyes were cast down looking at something on his desk. 

Class got out shortly after and as you packed up your books you saw the curling black stem of a drawing peeking from the exposed skin on your wrist. Pulling it back you saw the most beautiful drawing of a large rose with vines creeping beautifully from it’s edges. You were too busy admiring the rose to realize that there at the base of your wrist in the handwriting you’d been obsessing over for days was forming a new message. 

damian wayne

Your soul just about left your body. 

Then all the windows in your school shattered.

You flung yourself to the floor covering your head as you heard shouting and the sound of bones breaking. Peeking up you saw cloaked figures tearing their way through the hordes of terrified students grabbing the wrists then throwing them backwards. You crept away until your back was pressed against the back of the classroom. Watching as they checked student after student you saw a blur flit past every cloaked figure, knocking many of them out with ease. You craned your neck to follow the blur but your vision was interrupted by a dark figure entering the classroom, following the same protocol as he grabbed the wrist of students then threw them backwards. 

When he came up to you his ice cold fingers wrapped around your arm, you yelped, trying to rip your arm away but he held tight. He just stared at your wrist, then an eery smile crept over his lips, the cheshire smile was the only thing you could see from under the deep green, almost black hood. Unlike the other students his grip held strong, dragging you out of the classroom while you kicked and screamed. 

“Look what I found” he cooed as he pulled you towards the main hallway of your school. The view from the second story of your school was shocking. There was a blue and black blur fighting alongside a green and yellow one as they both attacked a group of the cloaked assassins, all watched over by a tall woman dressed in black. Her head snapped up to you and the same terrifying smile slid over her face. “See! Was that so hard dearest?” her voice drawled as Robin looked up at you, his expression hardening. “Over my dead body mother” he said between clenched teeth as he sprang backwards, breaking into a run in your direction while (you assumed to be) Nightwing began sweeping through the figures. 

You screamed as you were tugged backwards, you had way too bright a future for this shit. With all the courage you had you wound back, and swung, your fist connecting with the mans face. You winced as you felt your ring finger click out of place against his nose but it was a good and unexpected punch, sending him stumbling back as you ripped your other arm out of his grasp. 

“Y/n!” you whipped your head to Robin who flipped past you, giving far too hard a blow to the assassin, returning to your side almost immediately. “Did he hurt you,” his gruff voice dipped into concern while you held your breath in his presence. When you gave a small nod he released a breath he seemed to have been holding for far too long, turning his gaze off of you and back down to the fight below you saw a black streak jutting down his neck. Your hand flew to your own, your mouth moving before your brain.

“Damian” his masked eyes snapped back to you. “Y/n” he answered, his tone softer and more natural. He continued, “we’ll sort this out in a minute,” as he jumped off the banister, rolling to break his fall and diving back into the fight with Nightwing against the woman. She seemed to be laughing into the fight, whispering teasing remarks that seemed to anger Damian, but Nightwing was already overpowering her and with Damian’s assistance she knew she was out played. She gracefully dodged Nightwings punch, gliding up to Damian. Giving his hair a little ruffle she winked at him “be terrible my son I’ll be back yet” and before he could reacted she ran out of the building, followed by her men. 

You sat for a second in shock, trying to let everything set in. The school was silent, most students had either fled or were huddled in classrooms still unaware the fight was over. 

“Hey! Your hand okay?” Nightwing gained your attention as he was waving his arm with a dazzling smile. “Oh uh, I hurt my finger but it’s nothing,” you replied, hearing your shaky voice echo through the halls of your school. “C’mon down I’d love to help you out!” Nightwing beckoned you, getting jabbed in the ribs from an uncomfortable looking Robin. 

A few minutes later you were perched on the roof of your school sitting with Damian while Nightwing briefed the public. Damian broke the silence, “Which finger” his gaze cast down to your hands, you held out a shaky hand where your finger was visibly bent. “You gave him a hard hit” Damian mused, taking off his gloves to more delicately hold your hand while he began to bandage it. 

“y-yeah” you swallowed, bidding your voice to stop shaking. Damian’s eyes refused to meet yours. “Do you wanna talk about the whole, wrist thing?” you whispered, casting your eyes down to notice his exposed wrist had y/n l/n written on it as well. He stayed silent, you brought your eyes up only to notice he’d been staring at you, quickly he looked back down, finishing the bandaging he released your hand with a sigh. 

“Nice to meet you soulmate” you said with a small smile. Damian glanced up at you, giving you a surprised look. “Soulmates?” he gulped as he continued, “I completely understand if you like to move on and forget about all this, I know better than anyone how dangerous my life is and if today with my mother was any sign I should’ve known soulmates just aren’t in the books for me,” you watched as his hardened expression faltered, even behind the mask Damian seemed easy to read to you. “Oh uh, that was your mom?” he gave you a pained nod when you realized you’d hit a touchy subject. “Not the point! Soulmates are soulmates for a reason and as you saw today [you held up your bandaged hand] I’m a freaking badass and can totally defend myself. I’m not giving up or forgetting anything.” you finished with a deep breath, telling yourself that this was the beginning of something epic. 

“Then, I suppose it is nice to meet you soulmate” Damian said, his lips faintly curling into a smile as he stuck out his hand. “Shaking hands with your soulmate? Absolutely not.” you teased, wrapping your good arm around him and giving a squeeze. He seemed frozen at first, but slowly but surely you felt his arms begin to caress your back in a lopsided slightly dysfunctional hug, but a hug nonetheless. You could feel him smiling against your shoulder, making you melt into his embrace as he let out a sigh, his hot breath tickling your neck. 

“Aw Dames this is too cute!” Damian scrambled out of your embrace as a tall raven haired boy joined you on the roof. “Dick Grayson, Nightwing” the man grinned at you, ruffling Damian’s hair against his protest. “You got your soulmate baby bird congrats!” you laughed as Damian huffed, a light blush peeking out from under his mask. “I’m all ready to go unless you wanna stay with what’s your name again?” before you could answer Dick grabbed Damian’s wrist with a laugh, “y/n! Pretty name isn’t it Dames” he swerved Damian’s fist half heartedly launching towards his face. “I’ll be at the cave waiting!” Dick cooed triumphantly as he careened down the stairs. 

“I should be going,” Damian agreed, getting up and offering you a hand. As you stood up he quietly said, “I���ll text you okay?” and you nodded, “oh okay! Do you need my number or anything?” you began to pull out your phone. “No, it’ll be easy for me to find,” he said honestly. You shook your head, “right, Robin, Batman- oh my god you’re Bruce Wayne’s son is he-?” “Yup” Damian flashed a confident smile at your dropped jaw. 

“See you around y/n” Damian nodded at you, pulling his hood over his head and grappling off the top of the building, leaving you standing atop Gotham still trying to process the days events. Pulling your phone out you dialed your best friend. 

“Dude are you okay? I heard shit went down at your school!” their voice echoed from your phone. 

“You’re never gonna guess but I found my soulmate” you said, revelling in just saying the sentence. “Who?” they screeched.

“R- Damian Wayne!” you cut yourself short, realizing that now you had a secret to keep for Damian. There was certainly more than meets the eye about the quiet boy in the back of English.

“HOLY SHIT BITCH YOU’RE GONNA BE RICH!” 

[candlelight27]

Chapter 2: Reach For My Hand

Summary: Sylvain has been ignoring you since you met him. You had been in love with him since you met him. College is about to offer you a fresh start. New academic year, new life. You were ready to forget him. But fate seems to have other plans… (COLLEGE AU)

Series: Seeking Your Warmth If Only For A Day

Warnings: Objetification (?), anxiety attack, curse words

Pairings: Sylvain Jose Gautier x Female Reader

Word Count: 4562

AO3: Reach For My Hand

A/N:  Sorry it took too long. My writing process is unpredictable. Besides, it was a boring chapter at first and I think I managed to make it interesting? Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!  If you have suggestions, requests, theories or whatever leave a comment of come talk to me on tumblr - same username.

Your first week of university had passed all at once. Time flew between jotting down notes, going back and forth, meeting all your new teachers and, overall, trying to survive. Thankfully, Lysithea had shared all her notes with you, so you weren’t that lost – since Claude was keen on gossiping with you in the middle of lessons…

…And since Sylvain proved himself to be a huge distraction. And an active one, in fact.

The ominous day Byleth paired you with him, Sylvain had approached you after class. Hands in his pockets, his chest a little puffed and a glamorous grin on his face, he had the perfect pose to be on the cover of a teenage magazine. And with his casual tone, he nonchalantly asked you for your number..  

“We better stay in touch to finish the project”, he added. Your heart skipped a beat – or two or three – and you nodded. You hoped that excitement would go unnoticed. There was the slightest shyness in his voice, but you discarded the thought. It was absurd to consider you’d awaken even the smallest amount of insecurity in him, regarding the fact that he was the embodiment of confidence.

“Sure”, you smiled and grabbed a pen. Sylvain stopped you muttering a ‘wait’ and took out his phone. He opened a tab for a new contact.

“Here, write your number.” You took it and started writing. Then, it hit you that Sylvain actually knew how you were called. He had edited the blank space, where you saw all the letters that spelt your name standing triumphantly. He even had added a heart emoji next to it. So, even if he had never acknowledged your existence, he was aware of it.  

“Write me whenever you feel like it,” he said with a wink. Your name rolling out of his lips was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

As he went away and followed Mercedes out of the classroom, Claude rose his eyebrows.

“Well, that went better than expected. Our plan is running smoothly,” he hit you with his elbow.

“Your plan, Claude. I never agreed to it,” you sighed, while he just chuckled and let it be.

But that wasn’t the end of the phone matter. Not at all.

The next day you met your new teacher, Catherine. She was interesting, and she made her lessons about the Evolution of Warfare quite enjoyable – which was itself a great deed, in your opinion. However, there was a downside, and it was that the blonde woman talked your ears off with her millions of tales that weren’t that interesting and definitely not exam material.

It was early and you were barely awake when you felt the light vibration of a message on your mobile phone. Who could be at that hour? You looked next to you. Marianne was as still as a corpse, Claude was probably asleep and Lysithea was fiercely taking notes, so it was not any of them trying to be discreet. Ingrid would never use her phone during a lesson, so she was ruled out too.

With caution, you unlocked the screen of your phone and placed it on your lap.

Unknown 09:45: Are you bored too?

Did Dorothea change her number again?

You 09:46: Who are you?

Unknown 09:46: Look right 😊

You did. And you came across Sylvain waving at you. You saved his number quicker than you’d like to admit.

You 09:48: Good morning, Sylvain

You 09:48: And yes, I’m bored to death

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a smile gracing Sylvain’s countenance, and you felt like a schoolgirl all over again.

Sylvain 09:49: Is Claude asleep? For real?

You 09:50: Most likely…

And that was the beginning of your academic doom.

It turned out that Sylvain was a compulsive text-writer. He wasn’t shy about sending you millions of messages at any time. And you, foolish as always, responded every last one of them. Against your will, as you typed on your phone, butterflies flied around your stomach.

The first days, he limited your interactions strictly to Catherine’s lessons and breaks. But as the week progressed, you found yourself going to sleep a little later just to share a few more words with the infamous flirter.

You two didn’t have meaningful conversations at all. You talked about high school, books, films, you shared jokes and silly occurrences… Yet it made you feel that an already existing connection tying you with Sylvain was awakening. It was absurd, to think there was a bond that had been formed before between both of you, but you couldn’t cast aside that sensation. Like a distant memory of a dream you once had. Like the primal needs our bodies feel. You felt there was something that linked you with him, and it was ancient and significant.

When Claude discovered what you and Sylvain were up, he was delighted.

“Don’t you realize that’s just what we needed for our plan?”, he opened his eyes and leaned in closer, so your classmates wouldn’t hear him.

“Again, your plan, Claude”, you shook your head. “And you seem to be making it up as it goes.”

“Well, that’s my charm, darling,” he laughed, and went on playing with his phone. You threw him your best deadpan look.

With so many distractions, the weekend arrived in the blink of an eye. It was rather cloudy when you woke up, and late, because it was Saturday and you didn’t have any obligation. You rolled in bed, throwing away your blanket and yawning.

Then, you heard a thud next to you. It was your phone. You remembered you had been talking with Sylvain when you fell asleep. You deliberated if maybe it wasn’t better to ignore him for a day. You were starting to get your hopes up, and you wanted to avoid another disappointment. But as if your hands moved on their own, you opened the conversation to see what you had missed.

Sylvain 01:13: What do you mean you HAVEN’T seen Loog and the Maiden of Wind???

You 01:15: ??

You 01:15: What’s wrong?

Sylvain 01:17: It’s Ingrid’s favourite film!

Sylvain 01:18: More like, she loved complaining about how they got all the scenes from the book wrong

Sylvain 01:18: Still she made me watch it like 1819341973 times

You 01:19: She wanted me to watch it

You 01:20: I just happen to have really good excuses 😉

Sylvain 01:25: Well you are going to watch it with me

You 01:26: Why would I?

Sylvain 01:27: It’s called solidarity

You 01:27: I don’t have that

(Unread) Sylvain 01:31: ☹

(Unread) Sylvain 01:31: Please, suffer with me

(Unread) Sylvain 01:33: C’mon I promise I’ll be good, I won’t bite you

(Unread) Sylvain 01:33: Unless you ask me 😉😉😉

(Unread) Sylvain 01:35: So I’m going to believe that you’re asleep and are not in fact ignoring me

(Unread) Sylvain 01:34: Good night, princess <3

You sighed and got up. What were you getting yourself into? And what were you trying to achieve? ‘Don’t implicate yourself too much’, has said Claude, but you were already in too deep. But your friend probably knew as much and was plotting something entirely different.

Ignoring your best judgment, you started typing.

You 09:53: Good morning!

Goddess, you felt stupid.

“Good morning”, greeted Ingrid when you left your room. “I got some pastries for breakfast.”

“Nice.”

You sat next to her and started to munch on the first sweet piece you found. The television filled the room with a comforting background noise. You were half listening the weather and the news. Your phone suddenly beeped, indicating you had a new text message. You looked at the screen with discretion and unlocked it with an unbothered appearance, trusting Ingrid wouldn’t ask questions.

Sylvain 10:01: I unilaterally decided we’re watching the film today, princess

You couldn’t hide your expression, and Ingrid looked your way.

“Who are you texting?”, she tried to use a teasing tone. “I’ve never seen you so hooked on your phone. Is it Claude?”

There was no use in lying, so you’d answer thruthfully. You could even get some intel about Sylvain without revealing your game if you played your cards well.

“Oh, no. It’s Sylvain?” You feigned disinterest.

“Is he bothering you? I could scare him off,” she offered, with her eyebrows furrowed.

“What? Don’t do it.” A small and nervous laughter escaped your mouth at the idea.

“Don’t tell me he’s done it”, Ingrid said, and she rested her head on her hands, her attention focused on you.

“What has he done?”

“Charming you!”, she replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ingrid, I was paired with him for some project. That’s all,” you assured her.

“Well, just don’t fall for him. He can be very disgusting sometimes. He’s a good friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend.” She hummed. “As far as I know, of course.”

“Don’t worry,” you smiled, appeasing, “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s weird, though. He never texts anyone on his own accord. He always says it’s a waste of time.”

“It’s for the project. No biggie,” you affirmed, yet you knew you’d have to keep in mind that fact.

“Ah, that must be it,” Ingrid shrugged. “He may be always chasing skirts, but he’s very diligent with academic matters.”

You 10:15: I have a better idea

You 10:16: Let’s go to the library and start Byleth’s project

You weren’t ready for watching a film with him. In the best-case scenario, you’d faint like Bernadetta on your high school days.

Sylvain 10:17: The library? In this era of technology?

You 10:17: Yes.

Sylvain 10:18: Okay, fine

Sylvain 10:19: You are right, old-fashioned university professors love their bibliographies filled with books :/

Sylvain 10:19: But you owe me one film

You 10:19: … we’ll see.

You 10:19: Let’s meet at the library at 6 p.m.

“I’m going to the library with Sylvain today,” you commented to Ingrid.

“Do you mind if I invite Ashe over?”

Well, you weren’t expecting that. You noted mentally to compare notes with Dorothea, because now you didn’t have any doubt that there was something going on between her and Ashe. Never ever had she invited a guy before that wasn’t Felix, Sylvain, or Dimitri.

“Oh, yeah, go ahead, I don’t mind,” you encouraged her.

“Cool!”

 You were getting ready, mulling over what you were going to wear. You didn’t want to try too hard, this wasn’t a date, but nevertheless you wanted to look good – despite the fact that if anyone ever asked you, you’d completely refuse that thought had crossed your mind. It was absurd, but denial helped you to keep going.  

As you struggled to decide, you heard Ingrid biding you goodbye and the door being closed. You supposed she was going to meet Ashe and bring him to your place. You grinned to yourself. Immediately after, your phone started ringing. It was Dorothea. She had a distinctive melody that she sang herself for you. What on earth could have made her call you? She was the queen of voice messages.

“Yes?”, you began.

“You better tell me what the fuck is happening!”, she yelled with her usual dramatic twist.

“What is happening?” You were quite confused and tried to go over all the things she could be referring to.

“Don’t play dumb. First, Ingrid is all starry-eyed when she talks about Ashe and now you have a date with Sylvain? Is the water in your apartment poisoned?” You wondered how she found out, but Dorothea had a sixth sense for love affairs.

“Well, Ingrid is the one with an actual date,” you pointed to divert her attention. “I’m just going to the library because-”

“Because a project? Why does it sound so familiar? Ah, yes, it’s what I told my parents when I was going to make out with a classmate in high school. And don’t distract me throwing Ingrid to the wolves.”

“What do you want of me?”, you exclaimed out of frustration.

“A confession!”

“Who are you? Seteth?” You could hear Dorothea’s sweet laugh at your joke.

“How could I be so stupid? Your crush has been Sylvain all these years!”, she was creating a fuss on the other side of the phone. “I’m not going to lie, I didn’t expect that, not in the least.”

“You are assuming way too much.”

“Shut up! I guess Sylvain is a whole reason himself to keep it a secret, but you should have told me.” Dorothea made a pause. “My poor baby suffering all those years in silence! Aunty Dorothea is here to comfort you!”

“Quit the joking. Now tell me what I should wear for my not-a-date”, you said indignantly.

“Oh, right. Do you recall the Red Canyon? You definitely should put on that thing you wore. It will catch his eye, but it doesn’t seem way too elaborated.”

“Thank you, Dorothea, you are a genius. Are you reading my mind?”

“Really? I can see right through you”, she giggled. “You haven’t changed. And I would you why you are so worried about your clothes when it’s not a date, but you’d just mutter any excuse and ignore me altogether.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Now, inform me of you not-a-date with Sylvain when you’re finished right away, okay?”, she finished with her motherly intonation.

“Fine, fine! Goodbye, I have to go now!” You saw the time and it was really late.

You got dressed in a hurry and grabbed your laptop, some notebooks and a couple of pens.

 By the time you arrived at the library, Sylvain was already there. He was looking around, his bag grabbed laid causally on his back, hold by the handle with his strong fist. His other hand was resting in his pocket.

While his appearance was laid back, you were a bundle of nerves. As soon as your gaze found him, you felt a knot form in your gut. You denied that the young man could have that kind of effect on you, but the evidence was overwhelming. Why did it have to be so difficult in person? It had been so easy when you didn’t have to see his face – so handsome it was unnerving. You were the opposite you had been on your telematic conversations, far from your calm, charming and charismatic charade.

He was wearing a simple long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. It was a mystery for you why he didn’t opt for a modelling career. You forcibly reminded yourself that despite his beauty, he was a Don Juan, totally uninterested in you. You chanted Claude’s words ‘see what happens, don’t implicate yourself too much’ as you approached him.

Suddenly, his tan eyes focused on you as he recognized your figure, so you composed yourself the best you could. His lovely lips displayed a soft smile.

“Hey, Sylvain”, you greeted with an affected amiability. Still, you were tense.

“Hello there, princess.” He winked at you. “It’s nice to see you outside the classroom.”

“Yes, it’s refreshing,” you nodded.

You entered the big building with Sylvain at your side. Neither of you said anything, justifying yourself in the mandatory silence of a library. Some girls giggled as you walked past them, pointing at you two. And you noticed Sylvain looked a bit annoyed. The next thing you noticed was your teacher Catherine distracting the black-haired librarian with her nonstop chatter.

You turned your head to comment something to him, but he grinned, and you forgot your words. You simpered back, and he seemed content with that.

At last, you were in the ‘working-group’ area. The library itself was almost empty – but Dorothea told you it would be filled to the brim during finals week. There were some students chatting and taking notes, but not too many since most of the would be probably going to bars, pubs, and discos. And it was right then when it hit you that Sylvain was not in some sort of date or in a quest to gain the favours of a pretty girl.

So far, you had detected two oddities in his behaviour. Texting and spending a Saturday evening in the library. And the common factor was you.

“Where should we start?”, asked Sylvain as he took a seat, startling you since you were absorbed in your thoughts. You mimicked him and made up your mind.

“Let me thing”, you said. At the same time, you took your laptop from your bag and turned it on. “Since we have to talk about the early history of Faerghus… maybe we can cover the foundation first?”, you suggested. Sylvain had a notebook and a pencil and started scribbling an outline of the project. “We’ll need… a biography of Loog. Or two. And a history book about the 8th century.” You peeked his handwriting. It was neat, with small letters. His S’s had an characteristic flourish.

“I have a good book on the Crescent Moon War, which is also a theme featured in our project”, he said, staring at his sheet. “Well... it’s Miklan’s”, Sylvain grimaced as he added that part, “but I can borrow it.”

“That’d be great.”

“Do you know what’d be great?”, he looked at you. “Watching Loog and the Maiden of Wind! I don’t know what you have against films. It would have been a perfect way to spend our Saturday.”

“Again?”, you laughed.

“It’s for research purposes. No fishy business here.” He placed the palm of his hand over his chest. “Scout’s honour.”

“If I accept will you focus on out project?”, you bit your lip.

“Yes! I promise.”

“Okay. How about we watch it once we’re finished?”

“It’s a deal.” He winked again, looking satisfied with himself. Then, he stood up. “I’ll look for the books we need. In the meantime, you can search on the Internet some good articles on the controversies of Loog’s biography.”

At the moment he vanished, you breathed deeply to calm your heart, since you could almost hear it thudding in your chest. This meeting had been more awkward than you had expected, at least on your part. You wondered if Sylvain was feeling it too, the rusty mechanism of two people who knew each other but had never held a whole conversation in real life.

And all the same… It didn’t feel bad, being next to Sylvain. It was great, even if you were on edge. If you didn’t know it was impossible, you’d describe that sensation as familiar. A déjà vu of some sort, as though you had gone over this stage with Sylvain a million of times and every time your pulse shot up.

You tried to concentrate on looking for articles. You found a couple of them that could be useful, singed under big names of the field that would increase the credibility of your work.

You were absentminded during the rest of your search, trying to figure out how to be natural in your next conversation with Sylvain. You were a little insecure, even when Sylvain seemed to be comfortable with you. Your head was full of what ifs.  

“I got our books!”, Sylvain announced cheerful, interrupting your worry.

He sat again next to you. And you swore he was closer than he was before. You could feel the heat emanating from him, warming your arm. And you could hear him breathing. His scent reached you. He had used just deodorant, which along with his natural smell was intoxicating. His shoulder bumped into yours in what looked like a premeditated manner.

“We could split the work. Maybe we could work together on the main structure and the final draft, and work on the information on our own…”, you said as you tried to concentrate on the pile of history volumes rather than any matter related to Sylvain. Otherwise you’d forget how to speak.

“That seems fair.”

Sylvain made himself comfortable, resting his chin on the hand opposite to you. This way he had a perfect view of what you were writing on your computer – and your face, but you refused to believe he was that interested in you. He was invading your personal space in every way and he didn’t care.

“What do you prefer?”, you asked, all professional. You weren’t going to move away.

“I don’t mind, love,” he shrugged. “What do you prefer?”

“Sylvain, we are a team. You should give your opinion.” He remained silent and you dared to turn your head away from the screen of your laptop. He was smiling, but his eyes were half-close, as if figuring out what you were thinking. “Sylvain?”

“Ah, yes.” He blinked. “We’re a team.” He stopped, savouring the word. “I’ll take the Crescent War Moon in that case.”

He then wrote a couple of lines on his notebook. You could see he was writing down a list of ideas on bullet points. You did the same on a sheet of paper you had on you. After a couple of seconds, he talked again.

“Thanks for taking into consideration my preferences,” he placed his arm around the back of your chair.

“Why wouldn’t I?”, you questioned seriously. You were at total lost with him, so you leant in closer. You couldn’t care less, you were just playing his game. He acknowledged it, because you could see him narrowing his eyes at your movement.

“Let’s say some people is not as nice.”

You didn’t answer. What could have you said? It was not what you were expecting him to reply.

Breaking the bubble that you both had formed around you, two girls appeared out of nowhere. They were the ones you had seen before when you entered the building. Instinctively, you distanced yourself from the redhead.

“Sylvain?”, one of them started. They both were wearing fake grins.

“Do I know you?”, Sylvain asked, showing a bit of discomfort.

“Of course? We had a date in summer!”, the girl continued. She hadn’t taken the hint. “So, my friend and I were wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight, go to a bar, then you could come to our apartment, you know…”

You opened your eyes in surprise at the girl’s forwardness. And judging by Sylvain’s astonishment, he wasn’t expecting either such a direct and shameless offer. Did Sylvain have to deal with that too often? It made you feel uneasy. Of course, Ingrid would say he’d deserve it, because he had cultivated his reputation himself, but every part was so wrong. The way they talked to him as if he was a piece of meat, they way they looked at him.

“I’m afraid I must decline your offer, darling,” he talked in his most conciliatory voice.

“What? Really?”, said the other friend, huffing. “You said he’d agree.”

“Well, I’m working on a project with my friend, so… I’m quite busy.”

“I can’t believe you are rejecting us, Sylvain,” she made a disgusted face. “Anyways, your choice. Enjoy your new girlfriend, but I guess it will last like one week before you can find someone better.” Then, they turned around, looking behind a few times and gossiping.

“What the hell?”, you wondered, bewildered.

“Just my routine”, he sighed.

“We can continue another day, Sylvain”, you tested the waters. You sensed something was wrong and that he wanted to go home, and you had the feeling that he wouldn’t admit it by himself. “It’s getting late anyways.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re right. Let’s go” He put the piece of paper inside one of the pages of a volume he was going to take. “We can meet other day to put everything together.”

“Of course.” You started putting away your things back in your bag. Sylvain was no longer smiling.

“Can you pass me that book?”, he pointed at the red one you had on your side.

You took it and offered it to him. He extended his hand, and when he placed his fingers around it, they brushed yours. Your heart started to beat fast.

Yet before you could make sense of the occurrence, a stabbing pain stroke you. It felt like a spear had pierced through you, right below your chest. It was so real, so shocking, tears started to form on your eyes. You felt blood coming out, but when you looked for it, there was nothing there. The pain was beginning to expand, a wildfire burning your torso.

You put your palm where you felt the pain, unable to breathe. Suddenly, Sylvain realised something was wrong. You were opening your mouth to take in oxygen, but it was in vain.

“What’s happening?”, he could be shouting your name, but you couldn’t listen because the only thing you heard was a rush on your ears.

He grabbed your arm, but it only made it worse. It made all those strange phenomena more sharp and real. You whispered a faint ‘let me go’, and Sylvain moved away immediately. His steps were so fast he hit the chair and it fell down.

All of a sudden, when his skin wasn’t in contact with yours, everything subsided.

“Are you okay?”, Sylvain asked, alarmed. You hadn’t seen him that serious in all your life.

“Yes. I…”, you didn’t finish the sentence. Instead you recovered your breath slowly.

“Stop making so much noise! And don’t break the furniture!”, a kid appeared from behind one of the bookcases. His hair was dark brown, and he wielded a broom that he used to threaten. You felt a little embarrassed, so you muttered an apology before grabbing your things and almost running to the exit. Sylvain followed you closely.

“Are you okay?”, Sylvain repeated once you were on the street. As far as you could tell, he was concerned, but more than worry, his eyes displayed suspicion and curiosity.

“Yes. It’s nothing, I just had a problem breathing… maybe it was the dust”, you brushed it off.

“It might have been an anxiety attack. Some people have a lot during their first year at university”, he noted. His smile came back, reassuring. It was incredible how his demeanour could change so quickly. “What a day, huh?”, he laughed. “We should meet again soon. I had fun despite everything.”

“Despite the awkwardness too?”, you replied, both playful and too exhausted from the experience to second-guess your interactions with him.

“What do you mean? That was the best part!”

“C’mon Sylvain!” You denied with your head.

“I don’t know, okay? It just felt nice. You make good company.” He was staring off inro space, and you hoped in the most obscure part of your heart that he was being honest.

“Oh, and you realize that now?”, you teased.

“Better late than never,” your classmate added.

“I suppose.”

Step by step you started walking in the same direction. You were in silence. Each of you had much to make sense of. You weren’t paying attention to the time, until you reached a familiar crossing.

“I’m going this way”, you said as you signalled your direction.

“I’m happy we got paired up in class,” he stated. He was just as handsome as when you met him, but he had a sadder air.

“Me too. See you later, Sylvain.”

“See you.” He stood there, watching you disappear into a corner. Then, he talked to himself. “What a day…”

[mesaprotector]

I finally finished the Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni VN today after three-plus months of inching through it!

I'd already watched the 2006 anime (as well as every OVA I could find - yes, including Kira). I've also been intermittently watching the new anime, Gou, but with close to no knowledge of Umineko or any other related series.

My thoughts under the cut.

In short, the VN was absolutely worth playing even having seen the anime. While I still do love it, the shorter time it has to spend on comfy slice-of-life scenes and character backstories mean it does suffer a little bit, in particular:

Keiichi is so much better in the VN. In the anime he had his moments, but I almost felt like he was mostly there to make the cast into a pseudo-harem. In the VN, he's just great, right up there with all of the other kids (well, except Rena, but more on that later).

Meakashi was already my favorite arc in the anime, but in the VN the tragedy hits so much harder, especially with Shion's final line, "I wish I hadn't been born".

The Keichii/Rena fight in Tsumihoroboshi felt weirdly offputting in the anime, and I felt the VN did a much better job of slowly shifting from the dark mood of most of the arc to its almost-happy ending as Rena relearns how much she loves having fun with her club.

Irie's behavior is pretty concerning in the anime, but in the VN he feels a lot more like a genuine good person who just jokes around a bit too much.

I remember already feeling that Miyo was a kinda compelling villain, but the part in the VN where she just grabs all of her pain and hurt and channels it into an incredible drive to excel and succeed (Matsuribayashi, Chapter 4) is freaking amazing, and thanks to that I'm always going to associate its BGM with Miyo, even though it's also played when Akasaka rescues Rika.

There were a few pretty small things I felt the anime improved on:

The anime-original "Reunion" episode and the Yakusamashi-hen arc were really good, and in particular the latter has my favorite Ooishi scene when he just freaks out in frustration over how powerless he was to stop the disaster. I really like Detective Delicious in general, but that one scene, even more so than any of Rika's, was really the moment I felt most "God, please help these kids".

Some of the perviness is slightly toned down in the anime, or rather, confined to the fanservice OVAs. (The exception is Irie, as mentioned above.) I did start to tolerate the story's humor a little better as time went on, but it's still a little much on occasion. 

The VN getting more in-depth was generally good, but there were certain parts where I felt it could have been condensed. Like, instead of cutting repeatedly to Akasaka during Matsuribayashi, just have him show up and rescue Rika (it's set up well enough with the fragments mini-game).

Speaking of the pacing, I initially played the Steam version but at a friend's recommendation installed the "07th Mod" with full voice acting and updated graphics for Himatsubushi and Meakashi. But I switched back to unmodded afterwards, since while the voice actors do a really good job, it slows the story even more, which is generally fine during dramatic scenes but causes the comedic ones to be something of an ordeal (the mahjong chapter of Himatsubushi, not least since I have no freaking clue how to play, was slightly torture).

I also feel that having voice acting changes the atmosphere to something much closer to that of an anime. If you're planning on only playing the VN, I'd recommend doing it all with the VAs, but as I'd already heard Rika say "Nipah" about a million times I was looking for a bit of a different experience.

===Some Thoughts on the Whole Story===

Higurashi's overarching message - that all that's needed for a happy ending is for everyone to come together - is something I often disagree with, and a lot of my other favorite stories take almost the opposite perspective. One anime whose ending I absolutely adore has the main character go off by herself and talk the main villain into a puddle of tears, winning the "final battle" of the entire series thanks to character development gained mostly from introspection.

But in Higurashi, for all that, it really, really works. Ryuikishi07 absolutely goes the extra mile, and as idealistic as it often feels, you can't help but come out of the story feeling that just about everyone deserves more trust, compassion, and understanding. One of my favorite quotations, from a book I read in middle school about a rabbit, is "things only seem impossible before they happen". Maybe it feels like two people, or a village, or a nation couldn't possibly meet in the middle, but they actually can, and they can accomplish things nobody would dream of with their shared will.

(I guess you could nitpick and ask "hey, when does Teppei show up to help defeat the Yamainu"? - lol - but I think the story does a really good job nevertheless.)

One other thing I just have to praise Higurashi for is that it actually resolves nearly all of its mysteries with a minimum of hand-waving, which is pretty uncommon for a mystery story, and I know that at least when I first watched the anime I was sure it would kind of invent an ending out of nowhere. There are magical elements, but they're pretty well set-up, and the one "miracle" that occurs feels very natural.

Rena is still my favorite character, even though Tsumihoroboshi was middling as an arc (meaning still amazing). When she’s sane, she’s the best friend anyone could ever have - Mion and Keiichi try, but their specific flaws mean that they’re dumbasses sometimes when they just want to help. It takes a lot of skill to write a believable, super emotionally intelligent character, which is what Rena is. That - and the scene where she hides in her happy place in the car during the rain was atmospheric as all heck. Being all by myself somewhere out on a rainy night is my comfort and my healing. Fortunately my own problems are more manageable than what she had to deal with in Ibaraki.

Overall: 9.5/10, whatever you might imagine that number means to me. The anime gets one point less, but it's still really good.

[srhlsx]

master | chapter 8 | CHAPTER 9 | chapter 10

As you walked up to the hotel entrance you saw the waiting figure of Iwaizumi’s fiancé, her face covered with a pair of sunglasses as she looked down at her phone. Hearing you call out, she immediately tucked the device away and smiled brightly at you and waved with enthusiasm.

“Ah, I’m so excited for some girl time!” She sighed, falling into step with you as you both made your way down the busy main street. “For the longest time I didn’t have anyone, then Hajime and Tooru came along, but they are so obsessed with one another.”

She continued to ramble on as you both walked, you added a few comments here and there but otherwise it was fun to hear about a different side of Oikawa than you previously thought you knew. 

“Hajime acts like Tooru is a big pain, but he'd be totally lost without him.” She rolled her eyes dramatically as the two of you entered a shop in the market park square. 

You looked at her with your head slightly tilted, “How so? He seems like more so the rock in that dynamic.”

“Oh he definitely is, don’t get me wrong.” She waved her hands in front of her as if clearing the air. “Take us being in California, for example? Hajime never would’ve applied to the program if it weren’t for Tooru.”

“Really?” You toyed with the hem of a random dress as she continued on, leaning against the rack of clothes you were looking at. 

“Oh yes, see our school year doesn’t match up with America so originally we were both going to go to the local university.” She began, getting a little more animated with her hand gestures as she talked. “But when Tooru told us that he was going overseas to chase his dreams, that got Hajime thinking. Eventually we both decided to say fuck it, and now years later he’s finishing up his master’s so the two of them can ‘go back home and kick some ass’ or however he said it.”

Her laughter distracted you for a moment until you registered the words that had been said. You didn’t think much of it and laughed along with her and continued on your shopping. 

“It seems like the three of you were really close?” You said some time later as you sat down for a bite to eat. 

She choked a little bit on her food before speaking. “For sure, the boys were inseparable growing up,” she said. “But Gods no, I didn’t get to be a part of that until our last year of high school.”

“That’s when you and Haji- Iwaizumi started dating right?” You tried recalling some of the stories Oikawa had told you about his friends. 

“Mhm!” She nodded her head as she chewed her mouthful of food. “Thanks to Tooru. Has he ever told you about the big scheme he cooked up that year?”

You shook your head no and soon the words were spewing out of her mouth. She told you about this wild proposition that Oikawa had come to her with, how they managed to convince their entire school they were dating - all so Oikawa could focus everything on volleyball. She then started to tell you about how things with Iwaizumi started happening, at this point you were leaning forward to listen to her like every word she spoke had you on bated breath. She explained how Oikawa figures things out, how he had been selfless enough to not care about volleyball distractions anymore because he could see how his two friends were miserable and eventually he pushed them together. 

The way she spoke about Oikawa cast him in an almost heavenly light. She talked about how even years later he still gave up things for them and how she really owed him more than he probably knew. You could feel a warm sensation bubbling in your chest as you learned more and more about the type of person Oikawa was. You had had an idea, of course, having gone through your own emotional trauma that he helped you with - but to hear it from a third party really hit you like a brick wall. 

“Anyways,” she waved her hand around again. “I’m just glad to see him happy. You two seem like you’re really good for each other.”

“Oh,” You jolted a little bit at the compliment, feeling your cheeks grow a little warm. “It’s so new, we-“

“I can still tell,” she smiled. “I was worried for a while that he might be running away from his problems, but I’m not so much anymore.”

-

That night happened to be the birthday celebration of one of the guys on the team. Everyone was excited for an excuse to go out and party, Oikawa being no exception. The bar was divey and dark, but had a group of live musicians who knew every song under the sun - which is how you found yourself and Iwaizumi’s fiancé being twirled mercilessly around the dance floor by Oikawa’s teammates. 

Your head fell back in cheerful laughter, the atmosphere and mix of a few drinks making you much more carefree around the group of men than you normally would be. From a distance, posted up against the bar, Oikawa watched you with a spark in his eye that Iwaizumi hadn’t really seen in quite some time. 

Stumbling away from the dance floor with an ache in your feet, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders and pull you close. Iwaizumi’s fiancé was laughing breathlessly, making a joke that made your eyes widen and your own laughter escape. Oikawa and Iwaizumi watched the two of you, mischief clearly evident in your gazes as they flickered back and forth between the two men. You laughed into your hand and nodded, eyes catching the brown ones of Oikawa only briefly before huddling away again. 

“They’re up to something,” Iwaizumi growled, eyes narrowing over the bottle of beer he was drinking from. 

“Oh lighten up,” Oikawa laughed, slapping his friend on the back. “They’re just having a good time.”

Iwaizumi shook his head, setting his drink down but never looking away from you and his fiancé. “No,” he said. “I know that look, she’s cooking up an idea.”

You broke apart from the group, slipping away through the crowd to slide up to the bar unnoticed while Iwaizumi’s fiancé returned to the two skeptical boys. “Having fun?” Oikawa asked. 

“I certainly am!” Iwaizumi’s fiancé grinned at her long time friend. “San Juan is awesome and (y/n) is just-“ she dramatically blew a chef’s kiss into the air. “- so great.”

“Yeah, not sure how you managed it,” Iwaizumi teased, causing Oikawa to become flustered. 

Not a moment later you slithered your way between Oikawa and Iwaizumi from behind, holding four small glasses of alcohol precariously in your grasp. Both boys’ eyes widened in a look of almost fear as Iwaizumi’s fiancé clapped her hands happily and reached for two of the glasses - handing one to Iwaizumi. You handed the last one to Oikawa, quirking your eyebrow with a smirk as he shook his head at you. 

“I leave you two alone together for a few minutes…” He grumbled, although you could tell he was anything but upset about what was going on. “What are we cheersing to?”

“To new friends!” You beamed towards the group, lifting your glass towards the center. 

“To (Y/n) having to put up with Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi added. 

“To being reunited back home again!” Iwaizumi’s fiancé finished off the cheer, clinking her glass against everyone else’s. 

It was the second time that you had heard her mentioning that - home. Japan.

You tried not to falter too much, tilting your head back and allowing the alcohol to slide down your throat with practiced ease. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you coughed lightly before turning to Oikawa with the best grin you could muster. 

You hoped it didn’t show that something was in fact bothering you. The slight dimming of the spark in your eyes. How the smile from your laughter didn’t stretch your face as genuinely as it normally would. However, after months of getting to know you inside and out, in the most intimate ways, Oikawa saw it. 

Of course he saw it. 

So later that night, as Iwaizumi and his fiancé waited down on the street and Oikawa walked you to your door, he brought it up. 

“Look, about the whole reuniting back home thing…” He looked uncertain, one hand reaching up to rest at the back of his neck while his other hand braced his weight against your doorframe. 

You paused unlocking your door for just a moment, a fraction of a breath, before continuing and getting your door open. Turning around with what you are sure looked like an impressively fake grin, you looked up at him. “Don’t even worry, Tooru.” You waved a hand around dismissing his concern. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Oikawa looked like he wanted to say something more, the words catching on the top of his tongue but losing their momentum when it came time to be heard. Instead he let out a sigh, reaching to cup the side of your face delicately and brush his thumb across the top of your cheek. You leaned into the touch, letting out an involuntary hum of satisfaction at the simple gesture. 

With a soft kiss on your lips and his forehead pressed against yours, Oikawa bid you goodnight and left to join his friends downstairs. You locked your door behind you, leaning against it for a moment, thinking in the silence of your home. 

How were you going to bear losing someone you loved - again?

TAGS: @akasuns​ @edensxgarden​ @carefreeloner​ @mush-boom​ @angrylittlezizi​ @lovedanii​ @oliolitumbler​

[danadeservesadrink]

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 8

Hope You Didn’t Have Any Big Friday Plans

In which Scully learns of motherhood. Read on AO3 here

Tagging @today-in-fic

“Dana Scully speaking”

“Hope you didn’t have any big Friday plans”

“Why? Missy what’s wrong?”

“Well there was a bit of an accident at lunch today…”

“Melissa you tell me what’s wrong right now.”

“Mom’s in the hospital. She tripped down the stairs, fractured her leg”

“I’ll be right there”

“I didn’t even tell you which hospital!”

“Georgetown?”

“Yes. The emergency center. Room 305.”

“I’m already in the car.”

Scully rushed into the hospital, hurrying past doctors and nurses alike until she got to the emergency ward. A receptionist questioned her but must have seen the panicked look on Scully’s face before showing her on to room 305 at her insistence, where she walked in to find her mother laying propped up on a hospital bed, leg already casted.

“Jesus Mom what happened?” Scully asked, immediately fussing over her despite Maggie’s attempts to wave her daughter away. Scully made a mental note to ask for her chart later.

“It’s nothing dear, I’ll be fine. I tripped on my way downstairs, fell down a whole flight…”

“Did they check you for other fractures? Do you have a concussion?”

“Yes Dana, they checked everything. Apart from some minor bruising the only thing wrong is my leg.” Scully went to interrupt her again, but Maggie shot her a glare that silenced her. “I’ll have the doctor give you a copy of my x-rays but honestly there’s nothing you can do sweetheart. The doctor is very nice, and seemed quite competent.”

Scully seemed to relax, choosing to walk around the side of the hospital bed and sit in the vacant chair beside it, still critically eyeing the cast on her mother's leg.

“I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re ok.”

She reached out and grabbed her mother’s hand, who held it with a squeeze by her side. She looked around the room and only then noticed the absence of her sister.

“Where’s Missy?”

Maggie, sighed and dropped Scully’s hand.

“That's what I needed to talk to you about…”, she pressed her hand to the bridge of her nose, clearly thinking heavily on her next words. “Melissa took Emily home for her nap. And with me going to be out of commission for at least the next few months, were going to have to discuss who will be taking care of Emily.”

And the realization dawned on her that Scully had been so preoccupied with her mother and sister, she had completely forgotten about the whereabouts of her own fucking daughter.

“Oh. Can Melissa watch her…” she knew the answer before the question had even finished coming out of her mouth.

“Dana, your sister has her own life, her own job. She cannot just drop everything to look after your daughter.” She wasn’t shocked by the words, but by the frustrated tone with which her mother scolded her.

“Mom…” Scully felt her cheeks flush with shame. Maggie carried on, staring sternly at her daughter in the chair.

“You do remember that she is your daughter, right?”

Despite her mother being the one in the hospital bed, Scully felt like the one receiving surgery. She attempted to choke out a response but found her voice wasn’t working properly, she simply sputtered at her mother’s sudden accusation. Maggie’s eyes softened, but her voice remained firm.

“Dana no one knows more than me how much you’ve been through. And you know I will support you in any way I can but she’s your daughter. She’s your daughter and you’re going to have to get to know her some day.”

Scully stared at the linoleum floor tiles, her eyes mapping the grey outlines of the squares one by one in an attempt to stop the tears she felt forming. She could feel her mother’s gaze burning into her cheek.

“I don’t know how.” Her voice cracks as she speaks, and she hears Maggie sigh, but still can’t bear to look at her. “I don’t know how to be a mother to her. I’m scared I won’t do it right.” A rogue tear slips down her cheek. “She doesn’t even like me.”

Her mother grabs her hand again, and Scully can only see her concerned look out of the corner of her eye.

“Baby, none of us know. You don’t go into motherhood knowing exactly what to do, you just try. If you try your best, that will be good enough for her.”

Scully was still staring forward, so Maggie gave a gentle tug on her hand to get her attention. She looked up, the figure of her mother blurry through a haze of tears. Maggie leaned into her despite her restricted leg.  

“When Bill came along he didn’t like me much either. Cried every time I picked him up. He refused to eat, refused to nap”.

Scully had to laugh. Of course Bill was difficult, even as an infant.

“But I kept trying. I kept holding him, feeding him. And one day, he just stopped crying. I held him in my arms and he looked up at me with his little eyes and smiled. And I knew I had to have done something right. You kids all turned out ok, anyway.”

Scully smiled up at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze back.

“Yea Mom, you did alright.” Both women laughed, and finally the tension was released.

“You have to give yourself a chance Dana. Give yourself a chance to be a good mom.”

-

Why was it that staring into the face of her own daughter made her feel so nervous? It wasn’t like she was scared of a baby. Or was she?  

Emily was sitting in her play-chair station, bouncing happily and spinning a little plastic ring. Scully sat with her hand propped up on her hand at the kitchen table watching her. She’d been stuck there for at least 10 minutes, just watching the child bounce and play, unable to interact with her but refusing to walk away to safety. Her child. Her mother was upstairs in bed, she’d put her there herself, insisting she needed rest. Melissa left to go back to her apartment, and she was now alone in the kitchen with a one year old, who she was quickly realizing she was more terrified by than any person she had ever known.

Dana pull yourself together. She’s just a baby.

“She’s your baby”, she whispered to herself, partially as reassurance and partially as a reminder.

When she first got back, after the shock of it all had worn off, when she had rational thoughts running through her head again, she ordered a DNA test for Emily. She didn’t tell her mother, or even Missy. She gets it done through a friend at the hospital, and she handed her back the results in an unmarked folder over private coffee. A manila folder holding a potential explanation of what had happened to her and it had taken her almost 2 weeks to open it. She was torn between wanting desperately for the truth and being terrified of it. Of course, she had thought through the possibilities before hand, being the logical person she was.

Option 1) She was already pregnant when she got abducted. It wasn’t out of the realm of extreme possibility. She had been seeing someone occasionally, the time-frame matched up, and though they had been careful, she knew the percentages. It was unlikely she hadn’t shown any symptoms, but again, she had read of instances where women hadn’t shown pregnancy symptoms until late third trimester. Altogether unlikely but not improbable.

Option 2) Emily was someone else’s daughter. This is what she had rationalized as the most likely answer, given her lack of pregnancy symptoms. The FBI suggested that other women may have been abducted by the same man. She may have stolen the child away during her escape and simply lost the memory. And when she held her, when her mother placed her in her arms and introduced Emily to her as her daughter, she had felt a startling lack of maternal feelings. Usually mothers who reconnect with their children document immediate connection, feelings of easy recognition, familiarity. She could have been holding a lively loaf of bread wrapped in a blanket for all the connection she felt to the little bundle of joy placed in her arms. No, Scully had convinced herself quite quickly that she was in possession of someone else's offspring. But that was before Emily sprouted little red curls from the top of her head. Before her mother pulled out a baby picture of little Dana and even she herself had to admit the resemblance was uncanny.

She opened the envelope at the kitchen table at midnight after she padded downstairs, long after her mother had gone to bed. She’d had another nightmare. Tests, needles, bright lights, the usual vague images plaguing her mind and dampening her brow with sweat. But that night, for the first time, she dreamed of her. Dreamed of the cry of an infant through the blinding lights, and felt her heart lurch at the sound. She woke with a scream just short of her lips, so scared not only for her, but for the child. It was then that she realized. She needed to know.

It was a flip of a coin, option 1 versus 2, neither one a best or worst case scenario. But she miscalculated. With some sick twist of the universe, the coin managed to land perfectly on its side and the rational Dr. Scully was presented with the previously unknown option 3.

She was hers, oh yes, that was undeniable. 46 chromosomes of Scully, in fact. She read the report 3 times, looking for the tiny differences to indicate the presence of two distinct genotypes combining to form one unique human, the way she was taught even back in her undergraduate classes. The natural order of things. The only viable way. She found no differences.

Emily was genetically identical to her, a perfect clonal match, down to the individual base pairs in her DNA.

Option 3 provided little answers and generated so many questions. So many questions even the well educated mind of Dr. Dana Scully couldn’t comprehend. The only solace was that when her mother asked her over tea at the dining table about the ever-so-sensitive subject of maternity, she didn’t have to lie.

Of course, that only spurred her mother on more. She kept subtly leaving the baby with her, asking her to hold it while she prepared a bottle or ran to the garden. It was obvious what she was trying to do, although Scully was obstinate to her intentions. To be honest, the idea of a daughter wasn’t what frightened her. She had always seen herself as a mother one day. She used to play dolls with Missy and Charlie when they were little, and she had fond memories of rocking little plastic dolls to sleep, pressing bottles to their unmoving lips and bossing her little brother around the playhouse insisting that she was too busy with the baby to take care of the chores. She worked with kids at the hospital, mostly got along quite well with them actually. She would have been happy to have a daughter of her own.

But Emily wailed every time Maggie dropped her into Scully’s awaiting arms. She screamed her lungs off for the first few months of her life every time Scully was even in the room. While Scully previously saw the merit of her mother’s actions, it slowly turned into a torture for both of them. So much so that Maggie stopped trying all together. After months of stubborn fits from both Scully girls, Maggie found it best to simply keep Emily in her own arms.

Until now.

She cursed the stairs, cursed her mother’s socks and their hardwood floors, cursed God, who was probably looking down at her and laughing. She cursed herself, a pathetic mother, scared of her own child.

Emily stopped spinning the little plastic rings. She grabbed at a stuffed duck, tattered and stained, perched on the side of the activity seat, babbling happily to herself. The duck managed to elude her little grasp however, and instead fell to the floor.

Immediately, Emily’s eyes welled with tears, and she banged her fists against the plastic surroundings of her seat, bouncing up and down and shaking the entire structure. The screaming started shortly afterwards.

Scully’s eyes widened as well, and she sprung out of her chair, dropping to her knees in front of Emily and grabbing the duck. She placed it in front of the wailing toddler, still bouncing and shaking in her seat.

“Look, here’s Ducky. Ducky’s here.” She shook the toy in her line of site, willing Emily to calm down, if only for the sake of her sleeping mother. Emily opened her eyes and saw the toy in front of her, suddenly ceasing her tantrum. She sniffled and took the doll from Scully, grabbing it rather aggressively by the neck. Scully laughed, despite her trepidation, as the duck was strangled by the fists of a toddler.

Emily looked up at her then, little blue eyes wide, satisfied by the presence of Ducky and intrigued by the giggle Scully let escape her lips. They were face to face, and Scully felt oddly self-conscious. She fixed the collar of her shirt as Emily regarded her. She didn’t cry, though her tantrum induced tears were still dewy on her cheeks.

Scully found herself bringing her hand up, slowly. It was shaking, in fact all of her was shaking, with nerves, emotion, whatever . She brought a hand up to Emily’s cheek and carefully brushed a wet droplet aside with her thumb.

Her skin is so smooth, she thought. She was scared the act of contact would cause the kid to burst into tears again, but still Emily simply returned back to looking at Ducky, who was arguably more interesting than Scully.

She likes the duck more than you. It was a ridiculous thought that caused her to chuckle again. Immediately, Emily’s eyes were back on hers. This time, she pursed her tiny lips, as if in deep thought. She looked down at the duck in her hands, back up at Scully, and then suddenly thrust the yellow duck towards her.

“Ducky” Emily said, leaning again towards Scully and pushing the toy at her. Scully responded with only a baffled smile, which Emily then returned in full toddler exuberance. A gummy, wonderful toddler smile, and for the first time, Scully felt a little twinge in her chest as she looked at her.

She took the duck. Emily clapped her hands together, giggling her own twinkling laugh, like windchimes in a gentle breeze. She then turned and went back to spinning the little purple plastic rings, unbothered by the exchange she had just participated in.

Scully, however, looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Or witnessed a miracle. She held the cloth duck like scientific proof of the unexplainable event, unwilling to let it go, gazing down on it in awe before the tears from before resurfaced.

On the floor of her mother’s kitchen in the soft light of the evening, Scully cried over a cloth duck. She cried over the softness of baby skin, over chromosomes and unknowns, and over all the shit she’s been through. She sank down off her knees and sobbed an apology to the little girl in front of her. She felt her body shake as she sloughed off the moths of feeling like a stranger in her own home, avoiding the kitchen during feeding time and her mother’s disappointed smile. She pressed the duck to her face, feeling the soft fabric absorb the tears off her own cheek, and she inhaled the scent of her daughter.

When the tears had subsided, she looked up at Emily still preoccupied with the little plastic puzzles. She leaned in, clearing her throat, and danced the duck along the top of the seat. Emily’s eyes lit up, and quickly she grabbed at the duck, pulling it in close to her face and hugging it with all the ferocity of a child’s love. She looked up and smiled at Scully again, and the idea that it was all a fluke flew out of Scully’s mind.

Scully reached over and brushed a tiny red curl out of her baby’s eyes, again feeling awed by the softness of her skin against her fingertips.

“Hi Emily”, she whispered into the still air of the kitchen, and Emily smiled at the sound of her name, clutching Ducky closer to her chest.

“I’m your mom.”

[queenmaracasandlove]

Love Of My Life Series - Ben Hardy x F!Reader - How They Met

Word Count: 4500

Summary: Y/N works in her local hotel when a film crew arrived to stay there, making her take a break from her book. 

Warnings: Mention of break up and layoff.

A/N: The ‘Love Of My Life Series’ will be a series of short One Shots featuring members of the BohRhap Cast x Reader. Although you will be able to read them indepedently, they will all follow the ‘same couple’ if that makes sense. I got a little carried away with this one... Sorry !

MASTERLIST

gif found on @rogermeddow​ ‘s blog

Y/N was not really happy to be working in that hotel, it was not exactly how she had planned her summer. She was supposed to be in Ibiza with her now ex-boyfriend. To be honest she did not even want to go to Ibiza in the first place. She was dreaming of much simpler thing, a road trip in Ireland. But now she was stuck in her hometown, working for the local hotel while Jack was enjoying the trip she had paid for. 

Everyone around her was filled with excitement and all the town was talking about was how a big hollywoodian production was going to be filmed in their modest village. But Y/N was absolutely not thrilled. All she wanted was some peace and quiet, some time to figure out her life and move on to the next chapter. Working in the hotel used to be her summer job when she was younger, she worked there during holidays and whenever she could and was needed from her sixteenth until she eventually finished her studies and found a suitable job. 

She had lost everything in the last few months. First her job, the small company for which she was working faced bankruptcy and only a few weeks after she found out her boyfriend of two years was cheating on her. She had tried to stay in the big city but without an income and with the pain, she had agreed to go back to her parents’ house, at least for the summer.

She thought she would be able to do as she used to, work without really working. Saying hi to the old couples who were used to stay here every summer, greet the new customers here and there, help with cleaning the rooms when there were more than 10 rooms occupied (the hotel only had 24) and spend most of her times reading books behind the reception desk. But now she would have to deal with a full hotel and help with the restaurant during the week-ends. More money but more trouble. 

The crew was supposed to arrive today. Rumours were saying that the biggest stars would stay in the hotel as they would feel close by and the rest of the crew - number of rooms being quite insufficient - would stay in the nearest bigger town. Y/N was not really in the mood for divas and their demands. As much as she pretended like she did not care, she had taken a few extra minutes to get ready on that morning. 

She was so deep into her reading that she did not hear the footsteps in the lobby. Her feet were on the desk and the bookmark between her teeth as her eyes were rapidly going from one word to the next one. 

‘Excuse me’ a voice echoed in the room

Taken by surprise, Y/N almost lost her balance on her desk chair. A blond man was standing in front her. He looked amused and uncomfortable at the same time. Y/N almost cursed but knew how to remain -at least when not taken by surprise- professional. 

‘Welcome to the Katherine’s’ she greeted him with a smile ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I’m… Well I’m Ben Hardy. I’m working on a film and…’

‘Oh yes. Absolutely.’

Still smiling, she looked at the computer. This thing was so old she thought, the owners -Katherine and Georges- were nice and their hotel was enough for its regular customers but some things deserved to be updated. Thankfully, she had managed to convince them to invest in better WiFi coverage. He had looked surprised that she did not who he was. But Y/N was not a big cinema fan, she preferred her books and did not care if it had hurt the blond man’s feelings. 

‘Indeed’ she said, spotting his name ‘Room 13’

The rest of the exchange was quick and polite. Y/N kept smiling as she gave all the necessary information and Ben walked towards his room as the next customer was entering the hotel. People kept coming in all morning and Y/N completely forgot about the blond man. 

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

Everything had been so crazy for the past few days that Y/N barely had any time for herself. She was used to work without really working but now there was an uninterrupted stream of people coming in and out of the lobby. Everybody seemed very busy but to her greatest surprise, most of the crew was also extremely polite, some of them even remembered her name. Still, she was so happy when she heard they all went early when she arrived on that morning. Apparently they needed the morning light for a scene -Katherine was aware of every little detail- and would not come back before the afternoon.

Y/N finally had some time and enjoyed the warm sun on the back terrace, a book on her knees. This new book was not very long and if it was interesting enough, she hoped to finish it before having to go back behind her desk. And indeed it was gripping, so much so that when she finally looked up -the need to go to the toilets being too strong now- her heart skipped a beat upon noticing another person on the terrace. 

It was the blond guy, the first member of the team she had checked in. He pinched his lips seeing her almost falling but she knew he wanted to laugh. She wanted to hide away but she suddenly panicked. What time was it? Had everybody come back already? Did he need anything? It would not be the first time that she would not be behind the desk because she was hiding up here but Katherine probably would not be that understanding this time. She looked at her watch but it had only been forty-five minutes since she had come here and it was only quarter to eleven.

‘I am so sorry’ they both said at the same time

He scratched his head as she played with her bracelet. She was so surprised by him apologizing that she did not know what to say. 

‘I didn’t want to disturb you’ he went on

‘What? No… I thought that nobody was around. I am sorry. Do you need anything?’

‘It’s fine. I wasn’t needed this morning so I stayed in bed quite late. I just wanted to enjoy the sun.’ he smiled

He did not seem upset. Y/N did not move although she wanted to run back behind her cherished desk and pretend to work as if she did not want to hide away for the rest of her life. But it was as if she was hypnotized by the man. She properly looked at him this time, his broad shoulders, his luscious lips and his mesmerizing eyes. For what seemed to last much longer than reality they both looked at each other, without a word being said. It seemed like the sun had warmed their skin all of a sudden, or maybe was it something else. 

‘I…’ she hesitated ‘I should go back inside. If you need anything, please ask’

‘What’s your name?’ he asked

‘Y/N’ she smiled ‘Enjoy the sun’

She almost asked for his name, but before doing so she was hiding behind the curtain of the lobby, her hand over her mouth to hide a smile. She went to sit but was unable to focus on anything for a while, this encounter had got her completely unsettled. She eventually decided to do some work and overlooked the planning of the week. Once it was done she almost hesitated as her hand was reaching for her book but as she was doing so, she saw the man coming back inside. 

‘Mr. Hardy, can I do anything for you?’ she asked as he approached

To be perfectly honest she had checked his name on the registers when he had come back inside, remembering that he was in room 13, one of the best ones. 

‘I was just heading back to my room’ he politely said

‘Of course, yes’ 

‘Is it interesting?’ he asked’

‘Excuse-me?’ she frowned, unsure of what he was talking about

‘The book you’re reading’

‘Oh, it’s alright’ she smiled

‘What is it about?’ he asked, looking truly interested

‘Well’ she started, surprised ‘It’s about two children who are sent to Australia in the 1930s’

It looked as if he was going to say something but his phone started ringing in his pocket. He apologised and answered the call. Y/N looked back to her computer, heat rushing through her body. She could not remember the last time someone had asked her about what she was reading. Usually people did not mention it or told her that she should live in the real world and not in between pages. But when she was reading outside he had just sat, making no noise and truly seemed saddened by the idea that maybe he had interrupted her in her activity. She tried not to listen to the conversation he was having on the phone and he left the hotel before even hanging up and she saw him getting in a car. 

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

The blond guy did not reappear before the end of YN’s shift that day. She tried to no think about it too much but she found herself eavesdropping as she was shopping in the local supermarket. People were talking about the film and for the first time she was interested in what was said. Apparently the actors where quite famous and they had been seen in the village this week, an information that was not particularly interesting to Y/N. She didn't even know what the film was about. She sighed and after paying started heading home. She wanted to pay a visit to the local charity shop before going home for good. She had finished her book as planned and wanted to see if they had received anything interesting. There was something about second hand books that she loved. The idea that this object already had one, even several lives maybe, that this story was being shared. She always looked for traces of the past owners, dog-eared page -although she hated doing this herself-, spilled tea or coffee, forgotten bookmarks, sand -she always imagined these books being carried around during someone’s holiday, most probably unfinished and sometimes, dried teardrops marks. 

The shop was quite small but she knew it so well, most of her purchases in her younger years had been made here. She was greeted by one of the volunteers and made her way towards the books. There were often some recommendations from the people giving their time to the shop but Y/N rarely paid attention to those. Still, one of them intrigued her ‘the book that is being turned into a film in our own little parish’. She raised her eyebrows and picked the book. She knew the name of the author but she had never heard about this particular book, which surprised her. Without thinking she walked towards the cash desk and paid for the item.

Y/N walked back home, thinking about the book. She had not read the summary. It was one of her habit. If she knew she wanted to read the book even though she did not know much about it, she wanted to discover it from with as little information as possible. She kissed her mother’s cheek as she put the groceries away in the kitchen before going to her room. Y/N played with her fingers for a bit, her mouth twisted. She was now thinking about the client from the hotel. She wondered what he was doing in the film. At first she thought that maybe he was part of the production team but she could not forget his charisma. There was something that emerged from him, and his face was so perfectly made, like a greek statue. Y/N concluded that he was most probably an actor. After debating with herself she finally decided not to look at his name on the internet. If she had a chance to, she wanted to discover him without summary, they rarely did justice to the real work. 

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

Y/N had her head in the clouds as she was helping with breakfast on the following morning. This was mainly due to the fact that she had spent the night reading. She had not been able to finish her latest purchase, the book was quite long and she knew she had to work on the next day. She was now obsessed with the idea of finishing the novel. Working at the reception desk was one thing but she had never been very talented with the position of waitress. Usually the little restaurant managed by the hotel owners was only opened in the evening but the film crew had requested catering for breakfast. 

‘Y/N !’ someone called her ‘Order for table 4’

‘Sorry chef, on my way’ she said, grabbing the two plates

She managed to bring them to the table without spilling anything and although she thought it was almost time to close the kitchen, she saw two people walking in, Ben Hardy and a woman. She recognised the woman immediately, she was a well-known actress. She was so bad with actors but her ex could not stop talking about her and now she understood why. She was absolutely stunning. Maybe it was an actor thing, she thought, but her too had this kind of aura around her. She shook her head and moved towards the table. 

‘Good Morning’ she said ‘ What can I do for you?’

‘Obviously same thing as usual, your cook should have my dietary requests by now’ the actress sharply said

Y/N tried not to look too surprised by the remark but she had to prevent herself from saying anything that could get her in trouble. 

‘Of course. I am sorry.’ she tried with a crooked smile ‘Sir?’

She looked at Ben, ready to hear something similar but she perceived a saddened look in his eyes.

‘Scrambled eggs please, with coffee. Thank you very much’

‘My pleasure. I will be back with your orders’

‘Make it quick please. I have to be with hair and makeup in 45’ the actress added

Y/N pinched her lips, preferring not to say anything as she could hear another nasty comment behind her ‘I hate this hotel. I am used to a lot better’. Y/N was now too far to hear what Ben said to her but she imagined that he was agreeing. When she explained what had just happened to the kitchen crew they all laughed. Apparently it was not the first time that she was acting like a diva. Y/N knew nothing about it because she had managed to get Katherine’s personal phone number and only referred to her. There was nobody else in the restaurant anymore and Y/N waited for the order, chatting with her colleagues. She suddenly realised that she had missed quite a bit of drama as she had been determined not to care about what was going on. 

One of the cook, Kevin, was telling her everything he had heard since the film crew had arrived, and there was much to say. Y/N knew the man as they had grew up together, or at least in the same area. She was one year younger than him which meant that they had never been together at school but the village was small enough that they spent some time together. They had started their work in the same summer, but Kevin had never left the kitchen and he seemed to be perfectly happy like this. Y/N was almost sad to see that the order was now ready in front of her. This meant she would not here the end of Kevin’s story and she would have to face the diva once again. She sighed before carrying both to the designated table. 

‘And here you are’ she said with a big professional smile ‘Sorry again for the misunderstanding. Enjoy’

‘Thank you’ Ben said

Y/N had to wait until they finished to get rid of the dishes and she would finally be freed from waitressing duty. She went to a corner of the room, as far as she could to be able to see them and be ready to help if needed without bothering the actors. As she tried to occupy her mind, Kevin’s head appeared and looked at her ‘Hey Wormy, come back when you’re down. I’m making you some special pancakes’. Y/N immediately waved him away before hiding her face inside her hand. She looked at the occupied table to apologize but the woman was already going out, her phone going to her ear. Ben seemed to have finished so she went to clear the table. 

‘I am so sorry’ they both said at the same time

They both laughed a little, it was the second time that it was happening to them. But although Y/N was curious to know why the gentleman was apologizing for, she did not dare to ask. 

‘I am sorry for my friend’s intervention.’ she started

‘Nothing to worry about’ he smiled before changing attitude ‘I am sorry for her attitude’ he added waving at the empty chair ‘It’s just…’

‘It’s nothing’ Y/N said ‘I should have checked. It won’t happen again sir’

‘Please, call me Ben. You don’t have to apologize Y/N, really. So your...’

And before he could add anything, a man came inside the room and asked for Ben to hurry as he was expected to be going on the filming site. Y/N was disappointed without really knowing why. 

‘Have a nice day’ 

‘Enjoy your pancakes’ he waved

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

Y/N indeed enjoyed the pancakes in the kitchen with Kevin when all she could think about was the actor. He had remembered her name she thought, it was not unusual that regular customers did but they had only talked three times. A few days had passed and their paths had only crossed twice, never long enough so that they could exchange more than just the usual greetings. Once a week, Y/N had a night shift. She did not mind, it was usually her easiest moment as it was rare to see any clients. 

She was reading the same book for the second time. The ending had surprised her so much that she wanted to read it again, paying attention to any details that could have helped her foreseeing the unexpected ending. Suddenly, she heard some footsteps in the stairs and put her book down. Y/N immediately recognised the guest.

‘Ben. May I help you’ she asked

‘Good evening Y/N. Not really, I just wanted to enjoy some fresh air.’

‘Of course. I’m sorry I have closed the door but I’ll open it for you’

‘Oh non don’t worry. I did not know it was closed’

‘It’s not usually.. It’s just, well I’m alone and it’s quite late so I thought’

‘Naturally’ 

He sounded like he truly understood and patiently waited as she grabbed the keys behind the desk and went to open the double doors. The air was fresh but not cold and Y/N embraced it, closing her eyes for a second. Ben was patiently waiting behind her and she moved on the side to let him out. She stayed against the frame, watching the stars. Ben had fetched his cigarettes in his pocket and lit one before looking at her. 

‘Are you waiting for me?’ he asked

‘No. Sorry I did not want to stay. Please, take as much time as you need’ she answered, ready to go back inside

‘Do you have much to do?’ he sounded like he wanted her to stay

‘No, not really. Nights are rather quite’ she admitted

‘Were you reading?’ he enquired

‘Well, yes’

He looked absolutely gorgeous under the moonlight. They were lucky enough that it was a full moon so that did not need any artificial light. His blond hair looked like silver and as he was drawing on his cigarette, a red light reflected in his beautiful eyes. The shivers that were running down her skin, Y/N had not felt them for a very long time, even when she was with Jack. She could barely remember when her ex-boyfriend had made her feel like this. It was stupid she thought. He was just a customer and probably felt sorry that she had to spend the night alone. 

‘Is it the same book as last time? The one about Australia?’

The fact that he remembered what the book was about warmed her heart a little more and she decided to join him, going completely outside. 

‘No in fact… It’s… It’s the book that your film is adapted from’

‘Oh, interesting. What do you think?’

‘It is an amazing story. To be honest I had not read a book that surprised me this much for a while. The style is very peculiar, but I like it. At first the rhythm was a little slow but it really helps you get into the story. The characters are well developed and you never feel like the author is saying too much or not enough. And the subplot is so intelligent and yet, so well balanced. I am reading it for the second time because I read it so fast the first time I wanted to enjoy it again’

She finished talking and suddenly realised that she had got carried away, as she always did when she was talking about a book that she liked. But he was not looking at his phone or staring at her as if she was crazy. She was used to it, especially with Jack. But he was smiling timidly.

‘I am glad you liked it. To be honest when I read the script I immediately bought the book. I really wanted to be part of the project’

‘Is it as good? I mean, I don’t know much about cinema but… I feel like it could make a good film’

‘I hope it will. But I think so’

And they started talking about the project. He told her about the film, how they changed a few things. The author was no longer alive but they had asked for advice on the adaptation. In fact, it was the first time he was part of the production of a film, he truly believed in it. She felt at ease with him, he acted so so warmly. They both sat one next to each other, facing the moon. It happened naturally, neither of them wanted to go back inside, or at least put an end to this intimate moment. 

‘I just…’ she started ‘I just feel it is weird that hum… the actress that you had breakfast with is playing the main role. She just seems… A lot more confident than the character.’

Ben laughed, but not to make fun of her. He appreciated her candour.

‘You know that our job is to play different character Y/N? And… even though she can be… well let’s say she can be a lot. She is an amazing actress.’

‘Sorry’ she quickly said ‘I didn’t want to be mean. And I don’t really think you look as mad as your character’ she joked

‘Enough about this film and me. Tell me about you’

‘There is not much to say’ she looked at him, disconcerted

‘Do you live here?’ he asked, brushing away her remark

‘Yes, no… Well. I used to live in London but… Life happened.’ her voice suddenly lower

‘I’m sorry’ he apologised ‘I didn’t want to make you feel bad.’

‘It’s alright. It’s just so cliché that’s it’s laughable. I lost what was the closest thing the job of my dream, was cheated on by a stupid guy that never really loved me and now I’m back in the little village, living with mom and dad. Pathetic’ she sighed

He looked at her, not with pity in his eyes but with true sadness. 

‘It’s not pathetic’ he assured ‘I am sorry it happened to you. But you don’t give the impression to be someone who give up that easily.’

‘Thank you’ she simply replied, grateful that he sounded sincere

‘What is your dream job?’

‘I want to be a book publisher. I mean… I was working in a very small publishing house but it was great. Unfortunately they bet a lot of money of dreadful book and… they had to put an end to the story’

He kept asking questions about it. On the one hand he was not surprised to see that her life revolved around books and she could not help but smile seeing that he found it remarkable rather than sad. She asked him about his work. On the other hand he was surprised that she did not know who he was, but not in a bad way. So he told him about his career, how he was not seeing himself becoming an actor but how life found a way. 

‘Of course you were in EastEnders’ she exclaimed ‘My nan love this show, I was sure I saw you somewhere’ 

He laughed. She was so spontaneous. He was glad she had left her ‘professional’ attitude at the door. They kept talking, on and on. And then the sun started to rise and they realised that they might have been talking for a little bit too long. She apologized profusely. 

‘It’s fine’ he said ‘It was probably going to be a sleepless night anyway. I am glad I spent it with you’

‘What do you mean?’

She thought she might have crossed a line but they had spent an entire night talking after all.

‘Acting can be quite a lonely life’ he simply replied ‘And sometimes loneliness is a lot’

‘Loneliness is a bitch’

He smirked. They looked at each other and they saw, that they both knew what they were talking about. How hard it was not to have someone to talk to. Not a friend, no. Someone special, someone who cared. Someone who listened carefully and held you in their arms. For a few seconds they stayed like this, wondering if they should make a move. But they exhausted and it had been a long night. Still, Ben came closer to her and once hugged her. She let her face rest on his muscular torso as she enjoyed the embrace. They parted and smiled. 

He eventually made his way towards the stairs, wishing a good night, or a good day, he was not too sure anymore. Y/N went back to close the door, taking a deep breathe of fresh her before doing so. For the first time in a while she felt like the outside world was more exciting than what she could read in her books.

[pilyarquitect]

War for Genius - Chapter 10. Relations and news

Hello everyone!! Here’s the newest chapter! I want to thank to Empro8 for her help editing it 😊. You’re really helping me a lot with this.

This chapter is quite emotional, it has some family feeling moments, and OMG! I really feel sad for Donald, Dewey and Louie in this one.

Even that, I hope you’ll like it, so here we go

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

Donald was desolated. A week had passed and there was no news from Huey. Every passing day made the sailor-dressed duck feel more and more desperate. Ten years ago, he lost his sister, and that hurt him… almost as much as the disappearance of his oldest nephew. But the difference between Della and Huey was that Della was an adult who made her own decisions, even if he hated the consequences it brought.

Huey in the other hand was an innocent child who was forcibly taken away from his home and kept separated from his family.

"Calm down Donald, we'll find him.” uncle Scrooge had told him, but... was his uncle really convinced of it?

Donald didn't know what to do. They didn't know why Huey had been kidnapped. But there was one thing that Donald was certain about, and it was that the culprit is Mark Beaks. They had no physical proof of it, but Donald felt the surety inside him and inside him knew it must be Mark Beaks.

"He’s given us access to all building’s parts, including the restricted section. He has even offered to be present when we register his other properties." that was what the officer Cabrera had told them when she and her agents finished their Waddle’s building registry.

Although Beaks’ cooperation with the police force might look like a sign of innocence, the sailor-dressed duck that wasn’t fooled. To be fair, Donald didn’t understand much about police investigation, but after years of seeing his uncle’s work the sea duck had a hard time believing that the leader of a technology company would be so cooperative, especially running the risk that with those registers’ information from one of his secret projects will be filtered.

Everything was too suspicious.

Donald sighed. So far, whenever the police had contacted his family, it had been to tell them the same thing: That they still had no clue to the whereabouts of the red-dressed triplet. It seemed as if the boy had vanished in the air.

Donald sighed again. He was perfectly aware that he wasn’t the only one suffering. His uncle Scrooge seemed to be moving heaven and earth trying to find his eldest grand-nephew, hardly even minding the expenses if it meant his nephew home safely.

Beakley had turned to keeping the family together as much as she could, knowing that she couldn’t allow them to lose hope that Huey would return.

Duckworth had become very silent. Although it was true that the ghost barely knew the boys, in the short time he knew them he had grown fond of them. Knowing that one of them was missing... left the Ghostly butler quite affected.

With regard to children... Webby kept searching maps and more maps, trying to determine possible places where Huey could be hidden. In addition to drawing a kind of network centered on Huey, his hobbies, likes, friends, enemies and, in short, all the information related to the triplet dressed in red. A commendable task, but Donald knew that it would be very difficult —maybe even impossible— for the young girl to determine the location of her missing friend by applying that search method.

And finally, Dewey and Louie. Donald knew that his nephews were probably the ones having the worst time. Well, even if they didn't admit it as openly as Huey, they all liked being triplets, and to know that one of them was missing... it was as if they were missing a part of themselves, and both ducklings were aware of that.

Donald understood that feeling perfectly. It was the same with Della. Both were twins, and when Della disappeared... Donald felt a deep emptiness that he didn't know if he could ever fill. But over time, and thanks to his nephews, Donald managed to (more or less) fill the void that Della left. Yes, his nephews saved him. Each one of them had certain attitudes, gestures, procedures, and small details that, to a greater or lesser extent, reminded him of his sister. And that made Donald feel that he hadn’t lost her at all, not while he had the children with him.

But Dewey and Louie... they needed their older brother, much more than Donald needed him. Without him, the two younger triplets seemed lost, like souls wandering aimlessly.

Speaking of his kids, maybe it wouldn't hurt to see how the boys were doing. So, the uncle went to the triplets’ room and slowly opened the door. At first, he was scared when he didn't see any of them in their own beds, but then he realized that they were both curled up and sleeping together in the older triplet’s bed. Donald couldn't help but be moved by that, it was as if Dewey and Louie felt that by sleeping there, they had their older brother closer.

It made his heart ache.

Donald closed the door again, not realizing that the two ducklings were dreaming... or rather having a nightmare, and even more incredible, they were both having the same nightmare.

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

Dream

Huey was sitting on the floor in a small, completely dark room. His back against the wall, his legs against his chest, and arms hugging his knees underneath his chin. The triplet dressed in red seemed thinner, his cheeks looked a little sunken, as if he wasn't eating all the food he needed.

He looked quite tired, and it was also quite clear that the boy had been crying... a lot, just as the traces of tears on his cheeks showed.

To the dude, a bucket with a roll of toilet paper could be seen, which made brought attention to the denigrating situation in which the older triplet was in.

Huey's head suddenly perked up when a noise was heard, like a spinning key. The boy instantly stood and approached the door, anxiously waiting for it to open. The door opened a little, allowing a thin line of light to enter the small space, but it didn’t open long enough for the duckling to squeeze through. In that space, Falcon Graves’ figure appeared. The duck looked up at the hawk with pleading eyes and said:

“Please let me out of here. Even if it's only five minutes.”

New tears were forming in his eyes as he watched Graves, waiting for an answer. The hawk looked hard at the boy, as if saying: ‘Get away or I’ll close the door again.’

The dressed in red duckling's eyes widened in fear and slowly backed away, allowing the hawk to enter the small space with a plate of food and a glass of water, which he left on the ground. After doing this, Graves straightened and crossed his arms looking at Huey, as if indicating that he would stay there until the boy ate.

Huey looked at the food sadly and let out a tired sigh. After accommodating himself as best he could on the ground, he began to slowly eat what the hawk had brought him, alternating it with a sip of water from time to time. It was as if the young boy knew that this was all the food he was going to eat who knew how long, so he needed to savor it.

When he finished eating, Graves picked up the empty plate and the glass and prepared to leave the room, but stopped when he felt a tug on his jacket. Looking down, the hawk saw Huey looking at him again with pleading eyes.

"Please..." said the boy in barely a whisper.

Falcon frowned and shoved the boy away, sending him staggering, but it was not enough force to make him fall.

When Huey looked up again, he saw the door close, casting the room in darkness ones again. The duckling's beak began to shake, and new tears rolled down his cheeks. All he wanted was to get out of there and return to his family... but... every moment the boy spent there, alone, in complete darkness, he felt his hopes slowly vanish like clouds on a windy day.

In the end Huey fell to his knees and his body fell forward, the only thing that prevented him from making contact with the ground was that he rested all the weight of the upper part of his body on his hands’ palms. And so, in that position, the duckling began to sob openly. Between sobs, the boy said with trembling, barely audible voice:

"Please... someone get me out of here... I don't know how long I can take it,"

And then he added:

"Uncle Donald, guys, Webby, Uncle Scrooge, Mrs. Beakley, Launchpad, Duckworth... I want to go home."

End of the dream

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

Dewey and Louie suddenly shouted their older brother’s name, the scream was so sudden and unexpected that Donald jumped when he heard it and quickly returned to the triplets’ room to see how his nephews were.

When he saw them, they were both crying, hugging each other. Donald wasted no time and climbed to the upper bed, his boys needed comfort, they needed him.

As soon as he climbed into the upper bed, the two children threw themselves into their uncle's arms, crying, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. Donald hugged them tightly, because there was little else, he could do. He couldn't talk to them until they calmed down a bit.

The boys’ scream must’ve alert the rest of the mansion’s inhabitants, because soon all were gathered in the triplets’ room, contemplating the scene between Donald and his nephews. After a few minutes, the boys seemed to calm down enough to explain what happened. Donald broke away from them and asked:

"Boys, what happened? Are you alright?"

Dewey after drying his tears, looked at his uncle and answered:

"I... I had a nightmare about Huey, uncle Donald. He was locked in a small, completely dark room, and they wouldn't let him out of there..."

Louie suddenly added:

“And he was thinner, as if he was barely fed and it also seemed that he was crying… a lot.”

Dewey looked at his younger brother and exclaimed:

"Exactly!"

Scrooge who, until then had remained silent, suddenly spoke:

"Wait a minute, lads. Are ye saying that ye had the same dream?"

The two younger triplets looked at each other and then back to their great-uncle, answering:

"It seems."

Scrooge frowned slightly and then focused on the triplet dressed in green. He said:

"Okay, so... Louie, what happened next?"

The boy dressed in green seemed surprised by what his great-uncle asked and explained:

“A hawk opened the room’s door carrying a plate of food and water.”

Scrooge nodded and leaned forward urgently, asking:

"That hawk... how did he look like?"

Louie thought for a moment and replied:

“He was tall and muscular, brown plumage, dressed in a suit, hard look, thick eyebrows and head feathers combed back.”

After that description, Scrooge turned to his other nephew and asked:

"Does his description fit yours with, Dewey?"

Dewey nodded and replied:

"Yes, and he was Falcon Graves."

Donald raised his eyebrow and asked his uncle:

"Where do you want to go with this, Uncle Scrooge?"

The older duck looked at his nephew and patiently explained:

“I think the lads had more than a dream. What they saw was what Huey is experiencing.”

Webby eyes widened as she heard that piece of information. In an excited voice asked:

"Really? Like some sort of brotherly connection??"

Scrooge looked at his honorary niece and replied:

"I think it's quite likely, it is said that twins and triplets sometimes have a kind of link that holds them together even though they are physically apart."

Then he turned back to the two younger triplets and continued:

"It is likely that what you two saw in that dream was the result of this connection you have between you. Tell me, what happened next?”

Dewey took a deep breath and continued explaining:

"Graves gave Huey the food, and stayed there with him until he finished eating it. When he did..."

Dewey's voice went out, so Louie continued with the explanation by saying:

"Graves left the room and closed the door, leaving Huey again in the dark."

After finishing, the two children looked at each other with a worried expression, an expression that didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of those present. So, crossing her arms, Beakley asked:

"Boys... is something else going on?"

The children looked down and then Dewey said:

"Huey... he looked like if he..."

Louie took a deep breath and finished what the they both were thinking:

"He seemed about ready to give up."

Dewey thanked his brother that it was he who had concluded the explanation, and then, looking at his uncle Donald, the little duck dressed in blue said in a slightly anxious voice:

"We’ve got to hurry to find him, Uncle Donald, he needs us."

As if it were waiting for it’s cue this whole time, Scrooge's mobile phone rang at that moment. Everyone stared at the gold apparatus while he answered:

"Yes? Who is it?... Ah Gyro, wait I'll put you on speaker.”

The billionaire duck activated the speaker phone and said:

"It’s done Gyro, you can talk."

Soon the scientist's voice was heard throughout the room. The chicken explained:

“Yes, as I was explaining to you Mr. McDuck, my intern had the idea of ​​designing a device capable of hacking any computer system that was within a twenty-meter action’s radius. We believe that by doing this, we could discover more information about what Beaks could be hiding from us.”

There was a sepulchral silence in the room after this explanation, until Scrooge managed to articulate:

"Gyro that's..."

Dr. Gearloose finished for him by suggesting:

"A complete stupidity?"

But Scrooge with an excited voice simply replied:

"No, genius! When could yeh have it ready?"

Gyro said:

"Oh, it's ready, you just need to install it. When would you like to do it?"

Scrooge looked at the rest of the room’s occupants, saw their determination, their readiness, and knew instantly what answer he should give. He did so by answering:

"Immediately."

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

And here ends this chapter. Since it’s been a week since Huey’s kidnapping, I thought it’d be good to show how’s the family facing it. Also, I really wanted to put Dewey and Louie dreaming about Huey and what is he going through. I hope you liked it. If it’s so, please don’t doubt on leave a review, they’re always welcome 😊

Also, poor Donald, after his sister’s lost, he’s to face the possibility of lose another family member. When I first wrote this in Spanish, someone wondered how would this situation be for Donald if he hadn’t had Scrooge’s help. Imagine Donald losing Huey before he reunited with Scrooge again. He’d surely be completely lost at this point.

Well, as always, I want to tank to all the people who’s read this story, the ones who commented, those who reblogged it and: @dragonsareawesome123​ @hakuneki07​ @greatgamedota​ @ray-of-color​@alphatheplant​ @squackcrowquack​ @gamerfansims389​ @softlemonboi​ @infamousquack @gandra-deee​ @queenveryrandom​ @i-cant-find-any-creative-name​ @jennamberking​ @gizmovi​ @hopeless-chicana​ @lilmissradio​ @intergalacticinterference​ @marshmeadow12​ @thesuperepicawesomefireninja​ @worldsbesteagle​ @falcongraves​ @welovelouie​ for the likes. Thank you very much, you’re amazing!!!

[golbrocklovely]

the chosen daughter // colby brock - chapter nine

A/N: hey yall sorry it’s been a hot minute since i posted a new chapter of this story. i’ve been really unmotivated to write but i’m finally in the mood again and so i finished this chapter and i plan to write out some more of some of my other stories too. so hopefully i can post another chapter soon, no guarantees tho. hope you enjoy this chapter! let me know what you think :)

story description

taglist: @far-to-many-bands , @idfk-tbh-oops , @muted-mayham , @ughwhyislifesohard , @justtanerd , @ashyoungxblood ,  @cmburgos

trigger warning: cursing, mentions of: wound, fighting, vampire powers, blood

word count: 1594

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the Caleb incident, it was hard to get back to my regular life. Staying at the Trapp Haus became a nuisance: not being able to sleep between the hours of nine P.M. to two A.M., the constant cases Sam, Colby, and Jake would take caused them to really never be home, my job being far enough away that commuting was a bitch, and the fact that Kat was staying over more frequently since her and Sam had gotten together.

I wasn't sure why but Kat was extremely standoffish towards me. Ever since we both felt that spark or shock, it's like she's tried her best to stay clear of me, which is hard to do in such a small apartment.

Plus, I've been having dreams about her. In them, I see her using powers, but not the one she has. She's almost like a witch, casting spells and saving us. We're always fighting something, but I can never tell what it is. It's always just a black blur but it kills us off, one by one, leaving me last.

So... moving out of the Trapp Haus was probably the best decision for me.

After a week of not seeing everyone, I decided I had to go back. I needed to know what was happening with Cyrus. I hadn’t seen or heard anything about him so I wondered if maybe he left, or disappeared for good.

As I entered the apartment, I saw Colby and Mike sitting on the couch. They both looked up at me, Colby standing up first. “Oh good. We were just talking about you.”

“Don’t you know when you speak of the devil, she appears?” Mike deadpanned.

I sent a glare towards Mike, turning my attention back to Colby. “What do we need to talk about?”

“Mike and I were talking, and we believe that you might be in danger.” Colby’s voice lowered.

“Like more danger than before?” I gasped.

Colby sighed, nodding his head. “Yes. There has been an overall spike of killings in the city, particularly in areas that Cyrus used to hang out in. The difference is… the bodies aren’t drained.”

“Couldn’t that just be a regular killer than and not a vampire?” I questioned.

“It’s highly unlikely. Mike checked out one of the cites earlier today and the body was torn to shreds.” Colby remarked.

“Nothing a human could do,” Mike hid a devilish smirk. “But a vampire… easily.”

“So, it has to be Cyrus. Why though?” I crossed my arms uncomfortably.

“Vampires don’t kill for the hell of it, and to waste that much blood would be stupid. So, most likely, he is putting himself into a bloodlust state. When a vampire barely feeds but keeps killing, he will begin to lose his mind. Once he picks a target and attacks, he’ll be almost unstoppable.” Mike informed.

I sputtered. “He’s doing this because of me.”

Colby moved closer to me. “He’s getting ready to kill you. So that’s why we gotta teach you how to defend yourself. How to fight.”

I took a step back. “Wait, if Cyrus is getting ready to attack me, why hasn't he yet? I've been home for over a week.”

Mike grinned, walking towards the apartment’s front door. “Colby's been watching over you. Like an emo guardian angel.”

My eyes widened, turning to Colby. “What?”

Colby glared at Mike quickly, clearing his throat. “I-um. Sam told me to. Besides, I don't really sleep at night anyway.”

“Whatever you say brother.” Mike responded, opening the door and starting down the stairs.

“Like... every night?” I whispered, glancing at Colby.

“C'mon lovebirds! We're burning daylight.” Mike laughed.

~ \/ \/ ~

“Is there a reason why you guys had to take me to an abandon warehouse?” I questioned.

I glanced around at the dirty building, some windows were smashed out or boarded up. Surprisingly there were lights in the place, but somehow the warehouse was still dark. As we walked into the center of the open space, a table with stakes and needle-less syringes sat next to a punching bag that was badly dented and taped up. Laid out on the ground was a wore-out mat.

“The apartment is too small to fight in. This is where we go to fight and practice.” Colby explained.

Mike flexed his muscles, flashing his fangs at me. “How you think we got this ripped?”

I rolled my eyes. “Right.”

Colby grabbed a stake from the table and tossed it to me. “I want you to square off against Mike. He’s extremely good at fighting, very similar to Cyrus.”

“And… you’re just gonna stand there?” I sassed.

“I’m gonna coach you. Watch what you’re doing and tell you what you can do better at.” Colby stated.

“Alright.” I took a deep breath and walked towards Mike, gripping the stake in my hand. I raised my hands up, staring Mike down.

Mike chuckled. “Come on Jade.”

He began to run at vampire speed, appearing at one random spot of the warehouse and moving to the next, slowly getting closer to me. Finally, he stopped back in front of me, smirking.

“Let’s go.”

For the next hour, Mike and I fought on and off. I would throw as many punches and kicks as I could, but Mike always had the upper hand. Being as fast as he was, it was easy for him to see my next move before even I could. I was getting more and more pissed off, I could feel my heart banging in my eardrums.

I think to some degree this was my advantage.

Mike originally was very playful in how he was fighting, seeing me as an easy target, but as we kept fighting, I could tell something was starting to get off with him. I wasn't sure what it was, but his eyes were dark. Intense.

He looked lost in thought for a moment, and this was my chance to take him.

I elbowed him in the ribcage as he wrapped his arms around my body from behind. I took my foot and put it behind his ankle, pulling him over my shoulder and flipping him onto the ground. With the stake shoved up against his chest, I stared down at him angrily.

"There!" Colby exclaimed. "You got it!"

I turned my head to Colby smiling. I exhaled deeply as I tried to catch my breath, my stance still over Mike. As I glanced back down at him, he yanked the stake out of my hand abruptly, shoving it forward into my side.

I shouted out in pain, covering my side. I fell to the ground as Mike jolted up.

"What the fuck Mike?! What was that for?" Colby hollered.

Mike shrugged. "She needs to learn to keep her eyes on who she's fighting."

"You didn't need to... hurt.. her." Colby trailed off, his voice falling to a whisper.

I stared up at the both of them, their bodies turning towards me. Mike's face changed suddenly. His eyes became crimson in color, veins slowly pulsing down from under them. His fangs extended, his mouth watering. Colby gulped, his eyes slowly doing the same.

I looked at my hand that was clutching my side, blood covering it. The slice from the stake had become a large gash, blood soaking my shirt without me even realizing it.

Mike took one step towards me. Colby grabbed his arm. "Don't."

“What do you mean 'don't'? Aren't you curious?” Mike hissed.

“About what Mike?” Colby glared at my wound, unable to move himself.

Mike retorted. “Why she smells so much better than any other human? Why her blood made Caleb stronger that night? Don't you wanna try some? Don’t you wanna know?”

Colby shook his head. “No, Mike. We're better than that.”

“Yeah but I'm really hungry. And so are you.” Mike grunted.

“Please don't.” I whimpered, trying to back away.

“Why don't we do it? Together?” Mike grabbed Colby by the shoulders. “We don't have to drain her dry, we can leave her alive and just keep getting stronger and stronger whenever we want. Come on, Colby. I know you crave her.”

Mike whipped around towards me again, smirking as he sauntered over.

"No Mike please! Stop!" I pleaded.

Colby jumped in front of Mike, his voice a demonic growl. "Snap out of it!"

He swung at Mike, fist landing into his jaw and launching Mike half way across the warehouse. Mike’s body slammed onto the ground, the noise echoing off the walls. Mike jumped up, staring Colby down.

"Leave. Get something to eat from someone willing." Colby demanded, guarding me.

Mike glanced at me for a moment and then disappeared.

I breathed heavy for a moment, unable to calm myself.

Colby suddenly moved, walking over to the table and grabbing a first aid kit. His eyes landed on mine. His face was normal again, no signs of hunger anywhere.

"Do you want me to patch you up or do you think you can do it?" He asked quietly.

"I-I can do it." I stuttered.

He nodded his head. He stepped towards me again and lightly placed the kit on the ground.

"I'll wait outside for you." Colby motioned.

"Okay." I mumbled.

A silence fell over as neither one of us moved. I exhaled and grabbed the kit as he began to walk away. As I opened it, he spoke again.

"I'm sorry. I wouldn't... have hurt you." He admitted.

I gazed up towards him, my breath suddenly gone. Then in a flash, so was he.

<< CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 10 >>

[btsrmono]

Trial & Error | chapter 10

Main Pairing: (jimin): student/idol x (main): foreign student 

Side Pairs: main x taehyung, main x (nct) jaehyun

PART 9

Early in the morning, you were alerted by the blaring sound of the typical iPhone alarm. The one that everyone in the entire world loathes. Your body began to wake itself completely up, you slowly rolling over to the other side of your king sized bed before accidentally hitting something--someone, making you stop.

You then heard a groan, which caused you to finally open your eyes fully. For a moment, you forgot you had company. Kayla started to sit up, rubbing her eyes. You grunted, following her movements and stretching. 

“Heejin, wake up,” Kayla called her in a low tone.

You looked on the floor to see Heejin knocked out, one of your pillows covering her head. “How did she end up there?” you asked, eyes slightly squinted.

Kayla started to take the blanket off her bottom half as she got out the bed, bending down to grab Heejin’s phone. “She tends to do that sometimes,” she explained, gently kicking Heejin while turning off her alarm. “Come on, Heejin. If you don’t get up, you’re gonna be late.”

Heejin finally woke up, rolling on her back, whining. “Just five more minutes, please.”

Kayla rolled her eyes, sitting back down on your bed. “It’s seven, hun. We have to get ready and be there by 9. The audition is in Itaewon, that’s 20 minutes from here by train, come on.”

She took a deep breath and sat herself up on her elbows, looking at you. “Y/n, is it okay if I use your shower?”

You shook your head, not minding in the slightest. “Of course you can. You both can. I’ll whip up some breakfast for us real quick and get ready also.”

They both nodded in approval and you all stood up to get ready for your day.

~~

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

You and Kayla both turned to look at Heejin who was in chair between you both. You guys had only been at the audition place for twenty minutes before she started panicking. 

“Of course you can--”

“No, I don’t think so,” she cut Kayla off. “Look at them.” She was referring to the other contestants surrounding you all, practicing their dancing and singing before being called back. “Should I be doing that too?” she questioned.

You sighed, knowing that it was eating up her subconscious. “Just take a few breaths, Heejin. In and out.”

She took five deep breaths, following your advice, then paused. “Yeah... It’s not working, y/n.” She then started tapping her right leg anxiously. “I know you want to help, but  look around. The competition is real. BBC are only accepting a handful of girls right now, there are at least 100 of us here.”

“But are they you, Heejin?” you began. “Come on, you’ve been wanting this forever now, this is finally your moment to make it happen. I saw what you could do last night, you’re amazing. Don’t let everyone else in this room stand between you and your dream, babes.”

Kayla grinned at you as Heejin slowly began to shake her head, letting what you said sink in as she started to re-scan the room. “Yeah... You’re right. You’re right. I can do this, I got this--”

Just as she was finally starting to to feel comfortable, a door to the back burst open, letting out Group C of auditioners, some of all of them taking the closest exit out of the building, sulking. It seemed none of them made it. However, Heejin’s eyes grew wide when not long after, you all saw a familiar face come out of the back with a judge, handing her paperwork as she slightly bowed and took a seat in the Next Round area, alone. 

“Oh no,” Heejin started. “I do not got this...” She gulped, staring at Jinsoul, whom was reading over the paper just given to her. 

“I-it’s just Jinsoul,” Kayla stated, knowing deep down inside that there was more to it. 

“Just Jinsoul?” she looked at Kayla as if she were crazy. “She’d make a monster trainee, do you know how many companies she’s turned down? That girl is real competition!”

Kayla paused as you bit your lip, understanding what Heejin meant. As Jinsoul’s former best friend, you knew how serious she took every audition she went to, whether she walked away with an offer or not. She had a passion that you had never seen before. In better words, Heejin definitely had reasons to feel worried.

“Well, let’s go ask her for advice,” Kayla suggested, sitting up a bit straighter.

“What?” Before Heejin even got the chance to further protest, Kayla stood straight up, quickly walking over to the Next Round area. 

 “Jinsoul!~” she called out.

Jinsoul prepped her head up, taking her steady eyes off of the paper she had been reading to now focus on Kayla, whom was then taking a seat next to her and talking.

You turned back to a jittery Heejin and gave her a soft smile. “Hey,” you spoke softly. “It’ll be okay. Maybe you should get some pointers from her, she’s been to way more auditions than you.”

“Exactly. Meaning she wants this just as bad as I do, if not, more.” She folded her arms, sighing. “She would never help her opponent pass an audition if it means she may not get it.”

“That doesn’t mean she wants it more, hun... It doesn’t hurt to try. Come on.” You grabbed her hand and stood up, dragging her over to where they were.

Upon arriving, you noticed Jinsoul giving you a silent grin as her eyes glistened. You returned it as you took a seat next to Kayla.

“Look, all I’m asking is that you help Heejin out,” Kayla pleaded. “She needs this more than anything right now.”

Jinsoul scoffed, taken aback. “And I don’t?” 

“Please, you and I both know they're letting more than one girl pass today.”

Jinsoul paused, silently looking at the two girls, reading their faces. She seemed to have been thinking it over. As she suddenly crossed her legs, her eyebrows began to rise, showing that she clearly now had an ultimatum in mind. She then smirked. “What’s in it for me?”

Kayla scrunched her face in disbelief. “Yah! Are you ser--”

Heejin lightly slapped her arm, signaling for her to calm down and keep it cordial. Kayla let out a huff as she rolled her brown eyes, looking back to Jinsoul. “Fine,” she said. “What do you want?”

Jinsoul leaned in a bit. “Get me into Johnny’s party tonight and we have a deal.”

“Wait, that’s all?” Heejin questioned, a smiling growing on her face. Jinsoul nodded in response. “Then it’s done! Just come with us.”

Meanwhile, Kayla looked confused. “You mean to tell me you weren't invited to Johnny’s party?”

Heejin cocked her head in annoyance. “Not like its any of your business... but no. Which I find to be extremely shady, so that being said, I have no choice but to go now.”

“Yikes.”

“If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t invited either,” you chimed in. You honestly hadn't heard a word about the party until just then.

“Yes you were,” Kayla stated, mimicking a Duh tone. “You just wouldn't let me finish telling you before you rejected the idea.”

This made Jinsoul chuckle. “Yeah, that sounds like y/n alright.”

“True, it does,” you agreed.

“Okay, hello? Back to me,” Heejin said, pointing to herself.

Jinsoul looked at her, focusing back on the sole reason you guys were over there to begin with. “Right.” She cleared her throat as she finally started to give her some tips. “Firstly, they’re looking for someone with personality. You can't go in there being quiet and shy and thinking that you’re going to pass. Basically, just try not being so.... you, Heejin.” With a grimace, she placed her arm on her shoulder. “No offense.”

Heejin awkwardly chuckled, scratching the back of her head in doubt. “N-none taken.” But it was obvious that some offense was, indeed, taken.

“Secondly,” she continued. “If you mess up, just act like you didn’t. Continue as if nothing happened, if you stop in the middle of your audition to apologize, they're not going to look at you twice. Thirdly, do not overdue it. Do not. I have seen so many people go a little too out during these things. It just makes it look like you’re trying too hard and unnatural. They want to cast someone who can do an amazing job while making the shit look effortless. Are you keeping up?”

Heejin shook her head eagerly, showing she was very much interested in what she was saying. Jinsoul then continued on, giving her more than enough advice before time flew and it was finally Heejin’s turn. You all wished her good luck before she and the other 4 girls in Group D walked through the doors of the audition room.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry I took so long to upload this chapter lol everything that I wrote got deleted and I had to write it all over again. This definitely isn't as good as the first time I wrote it 😭 But it’s okay bc it’s still damn near the same thing smh. Anyway, stay tuned for the next chapter to see who passes the audition and what goes down at Johnny’s party!! 

PART 11

[dear-wormwoods]

--> Playlist: Eddie Kaspbrak Makes a Change <--

All of this new content inspired me to finish fine tuning the Eddie playlist that accompanies the Richie one I posted last week. I’m super excited about this one because it has some incredibly meaningful songs on it and Eddie is REALLY hard to make cohesive playlists for because he’s so complex. This is like, the 6th incarnation of ‘my Eddie playlist’, but it’s by far the most cohesive one.

So, as with the Richie one, this follows the plot of IT as is, except that Reddie happens. Which... may not be as canon divergent as we all thought, now! The narrative here follows Eddie’s attachment to Bill, realizing the truth about his mother, falling for Richie, moving and regressing into mom dependency and sedative abuse, then returning to Derry and ultimately dying in Richie’s arms.

Detailed explanations underneath. Spoiler alert: shit gets depressing.

1. Intro: Like I said in the Richie playlist, I like to start out with an instrumental that sets the right tone for the story that follows it. Intro has a really whimsical, dreamy vibe, which is how Eddie’s chapters always read, to me. 

2. Like the Dawn: This song is... so Eddie. It represents Eddie meeting Bill, his idolization of him, and the feeling that Bill can give him the world and therefore his world depends on Bill. It contains a lot of biblical imagery, which I love when it comes to Eddie songs. Most meta lyric: “and you will surely be the death of me, but how could I have known?”

3. Futile Devices: This one is also about Bill, but at this point Eddie is trying to figure out what category his feelings for Bill fall under. He grapples with the idea of it being romantic, but ultimately he realizes it’s familial - brotherly/fatherly. 

4. Glass Ceiling: This one represents Eddie’s gradual separation from his mother throughout his time with the Losers. At first it’s just, I only know what I’m told, I only do what I’m told. He says what Sonia tells him to say and acts the way she wants him to act. But as time goes on, he feels trapped and starts breaking out of this mold - and what’s more, he realizes this is something he has to do for himself, not something he will be saved from by a third party (no knight in silver armor shining). Most meta lyric: mention of losing an arm, rip.

5. Secrets and Lies: OOF. This song. This is after Eddie finds out about the placebos, when he’s in the hospital with his cast, channeling Maturin to fully and sternly stand up to his mother. At least for now, he knows exactly what she’s done and who she is, and he’s not going to take it anymore. 

6. breathin: Self explanatory. Eddie has an anxiety disorder and the Losers help him deal with it and keep going, even while he’s freaking out. This song also signals the beginnings of a shift in how he feels about Richie, who is the most adept at distracting Eddie from his panic and getting him to just breathe. Most meta lyric: “How do I know if this shit's fabricated?”

7. Meet Me in the Woods: This one represents the sewers and the first battle with IT. “There ain't language for the things I've seen, and the truth is stranger than my own worst dreams.” There’s also a reference to Holy darkness, which connects Eddie’s experience with IT to his issues with religion and spirituality.

8. Cigarettes in the Theatre: After that summer is over and things go back to normal, Eddie and Richie’s relationship spends the next couple of years changing. This song mirrors ‘Rules Don’t Stop’ on Richie’s list. It’s that initial excitement of starting something new, a trip to the movies that doesn’t feel the same as it used to, and quiet conversations under the stars that one day just seem deeper. My favorite line is ‘tell me your favorite things’ because of how invested Eddie is in Richie’s interests in the novel. 

9. Fire in My Bones: This song mirrors Richie’s ‘American Money’, but has a much more uncertain, anxious, Eddie feel to it. While Richie spends their brief teenage relationship thinking nothing can go wrong, Eddie is continuing to battle with his fear. Both songs are full of whimsical references to weather, geography, and open hearts, painting this exciting picture of that specific brand of young, idealistic love where it feels like the world is yours. Both songs also reference flying kites, which represent their newfound freedom to be open with each other. In Richie’s song American Money, the kite comes from Eddie (”you started flying a kite, at the end was the key to my heart”), who has always given him the freedom to be himself. However, for Eddie, the kite is waiting for him at the end of a tunnel - it exists in a bright light, representing the freedom Richie could give him, but the tunnel represents his mother, still attempting to close him off. 

10. Don’t Forget About Me: Richie moves out of Derry before Eddie does. Although he swears they’ll get through the separation, Eddie isn’t so sure - after all, Bev left, and then Bill, and they hardly heard from either of them again. In this, he’s begging Richie not to forget him, not to leave him behind for good. We all know how that turned out. 

11. Mother: Once Eddie is left with only his mother to turn to, and once his memories start to fade when they move to New York, he regresses quickly. This song represents Eddie’s repeated attempts to exist outside of Sonia’s security blanket and his repeated choice to return to her. He can depend on her to protect him, make him into what she thinks will be best, etc. There’s also some religious reference here, sort of implying that ‘Lord’ and ‘Mother’ are on equal footing - which, to Eddie, they always have been. 

12. Numbers: Over time, Eddie grows more and more dependent on prescription pills to get him through life. At some point he has to turn into the guy at the beginning of the novel who has every sedative in the book in his medicine cabinet and actively muses on how great those highs are, so I imagine that habit would begin in his 20′s. During this time period, he’s also seeking out sexual relationships with men who he thinks will make him feel better, or feel something, but they never do. At this point he doesn’t realize how big the hole in his heart is because he doesn’t remember who Richie is. 

13. Cough Syrup: As time goes on, Eddie starts feeling restless within this numb, sedentary, safe life he’s stuck in. He dreams of running away and doing what he actually desires, but he still stays put, and stays “sick”, because he’s always too afraid to take a chance. 

14. Wake Up: He gets Mike’s phone call and starts to see things clearly again. Memories start to come back, he starts to open his eyes to what has become of his life, and how it didn’t have to be that way. This is Eddie figuratively throwing off the shackles and eagerly running back to Derry.

15. Home: Pretty much self explanatory. More so than most of the other Losers, besides maybe Bev, Eddie is the most eager to go back ‘home’, to his childhood friends, and the memories there. 

16. Dear Wormwood: Ohhhh Dear Wormwood... my old friend. I’ll just summarize what I’ve said about this song before: this represents the moment when, as an adult down in the sewers, Eddie is able to overthrow his mother’s voice in his head for good. Now that he’s back in Derry and his memories have returned, he can see her for what she was, what she did to him and still continues doing to him even after her death. He understands her and pities her, but he’s not going to fall into that trap anymore. Her voice no longer matters. Most meta lyric: “I have always known you, you have always been there in my mind... But now I understand you, and I will not be part of your designs.”

17. Blur: Okay so THIS song is literally about IT and literally about Eddie. At first it talks about IT coming back, and then ends with the iconic ‘we all float down here’, but this is the verse that matters: “My throat's cracked and beaten, my back's whipped and torn. The glasses you once wore won't have a use anymore. Where do we go? What will we eat? The only promise I can keep is the one where I say ‘I'll meet you again’, reborn from the sand. The glasses you once wore don't have a use anymore.” So breaking this down, the first part refers to Eddie’s anxiety, his throat tightening. The ‘my back’s whipped and torn’ is a reference to when they fought IT as kids and he was attacked by Mike’s bird (when IT was targeting Eddie for beating the crawling eye for Richie) - his shirt and back were torn by its claws. Then obviously the glasses part is a reference to Richie, now an adult, having switched to contacts. Then the ‘promise’ he can keep is a reference to his own death. All he can do is promise to meet Richie again in the afterlife, or in the next life.

18. The River: This one is like, the beginning of Eddie’s death scene, when Richie stumbles to him. Eddie’s encouraging him to let his emotions out instead of bottling them up, because he knows that’s Richie’s coping mechanism and he knows how unhealthy it is. He wants to make sure Richie is going to be okay, and continue to be himself after this.  

19. Yes I’m Changing: FUCK. THIS SONG IS MY FAVORITE, IT’S SO FUCKING TRAGIC IN THIS CONTEXT AND I LIVE FOR THIS SHIT. Okay so this song is like, technically about a break up - whatever. It fits so much better as a death song. Specifically Eddie’s death song. This song fully represents his moment of self acceptance at the very end, and how at peace he felt as he died. The saddest yet most graceful death ever.

“I felt the strangest emotion but it wasn't hate, for once” - a glorious representation of Eddie feeling okay with himself for the first time in his known memory. 

“There's no future left for you and me. I was holding and I was searching endlessly, but baby, now there's nothing left that I can do, so don't be blue. There is another future waiting there for you.” - He needs Richie to accept that this is it, but he shouldn’t be sad, because Eddie is okay with it and knows Richie will lead a full life after this is over. 

“Yes I'm changing, can't stop it now, and even if I wanted I wouldn't know how. Another version of myself I think I found, at last.” - He’s changing in death to this cleansed, spiritually light version of himself he’d like to preach upon if he could. He’s been so miserable for basically his entire life, and dying isn’t so bad.

Repeating that the world is calling Richie’s name, as in he needs Richie to go on without him and not get stuck on this grief. “Arise and walk, come through. A world beyond that door is calling out for you.” - I love this outro especially because in this context, it acts as a reference to the door to ITs lair. There is a world outside of this place and that’s where Richie needs to be, he can’t stay here. 

20. The Trapeze Swinger: Okay. :) I don’t even know where to begin. This song has everything, it’s full of childhood references, biblical imagery, and visuals that inexplicably connect to even the most obscure parts of Eddie’s character. Plus the added layer of irony that he’s begging to be remembered in the afterlife, while Richie is desperate to forget, which makes it extra tragic. I’ve wanted to write a full meta about this song in particular for a very long time, but I’ll settle for a breakdown of some of the lyrics:

“Please, remember me, happily, by the rosebush laughing. with bruises on my chin” - Refers to the rosebushes by the house on Neibolt street where Eddie got entangled escaping from the leper, as well as his tendency to find humor and excitement in pain. 

“Someone caught us in the kitchen with maps, a mountain range, a piggy bank, a vision too removed to mention” - Refers to Eddie’s constant daydreaming about running away, his navigational skills, and the fear and guilt he feels whenever he let himself think about doing this. 

“The pearly gates had some eloquent graffiti, like 'We'll meet again', and 'Fuck the man', and 'Tell my mother not to worry'” - Refers to eventually reuniting with the Losers, his desire to rebel, and his continuous habit of putting his mother’s feelings and needs above his own as a child.

“And when the morning came, I was ashamed, only now it seems so silly.” - Refers to the shame he felt about his sexuality throughout his life, and then the clarity and acceptance he felt as he died. 

“And now you're lit up by the city, so please, remember me, mistakenly, in the window of the tallest tower.” - Refers to Richie now living in the city, and hoping he will remember him sometimes as life goes on, even by accident. Also lowkey refers to Bev seeing his ghost in their window reflection along with Stan’s.

“Just like the gates around the holy kingdom, with words like 'Lost and Found' and 'Don't Look Down', and 'Someone Save Temptation'” - Refers to his lifelong fear of being locked out of heaven. The phrases each refer to losing/finding the Losers, facing his fears, and accepting his “temptation” (aka his sexuality). 

“Please, remember me, as in the dream we had as rug-burned babies among the fallen trees.” - Refers to exchanging secret goals and aspirations with Richie as kids while playing in the Barrens. He wants Richie to remember that. 

“A fleeting chance to see a trapeze swing as high as any savior.” - Throughout this song, the trapeze swinger symbolizes love/relationships. Richie and Eddie’s window of opportunity to be together was fleeting, but it was more meaningful than anything else they’d experienced. 

“Please, remember me, my misery, and how it lost me all I wanted.” - Eddie spent his life being scared and stagnant, always miserable but never having the guts to change his situation on his own, which ultimately cost him a fulfilling life. He wants Richie to remember that and avoid making the same mistake. 

“... and chasing trains, the colored birds above there, running in circles ‘round the well...” - Refers to Eddie’s obsession with traintracks and freedom, the birds he watched fly away from Derry that brought tears to his eyes, and the cyclical nature of his life that he could never escape. 

“You turn from me and said 'The trapeze act was wonderful, but never meant to last.'” - Again, the trapeze act symbolizes love/the relationship. Richie and Eddie’s time together was limited and exciting, but couldn’t last forever due to the circumstances of their lives.   

“The clown that passed saw me just come up with anger.” - lmao I can’t even deal with this line. Self explanatory. IT is what tore them apart, both times. 

“Please, remember me, finally, and all my uphill clawing.” - He doesn’t want to be remembered for his previous failure, but for his determination and how he ultimately overcame the things that were holding him back. 

“My dear, but if I make the pearly gates, I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer, a boy and girl, an angel kissing on a sinner, a monkey and a man, a marching band... all around the frightened trapeze swingers.” - Eddie never thought he would go to heaven or ‘make the pearly gates’, but in his dying moments he finally feels like it’s possible. If he gets there, he’s going to preserve the memory of the Losers and their experience in the afterlife (the ‘drawing’). God and Lucifer represent Maturin and IT, the boy and girl represent Ben and Beverly, the angel kissing on a sinner represents he and Richie (who is who? Eddie would say he’s the sinner, but Richie would say the opposite). The monkey and the man refer to ITs timelessness - that the entity was here long before the evolution of man and witnessed all of human history unfold - it’s also a reference to Mike and Richie’s experience in the smokehouse. The marching band refers to the Losers as a group, working together as a unit. The frightened trapeze swingers again symbolize the relationships, how scary and thrilling love is, and that “love and desire” are stronger forces than memory. 

YIKES that was so much. I expect virtually no one to read all that, but I hope y’all enjoy the playlist!

[brideofedoras]

The Loft: Redemption

Chapter Two is up!  I’m not particularly happy with this one, and tbh I bullshitted my way through a small part.  

Disclaimer: I only own my OCs.

Word count: 3400+

Warnings: Anxiety.  It’ll be a bit before the warnings kick in.

Link to Chapter 1

“He tried talking you out of the job?”  Kenna’s blue eyes widened.

Sam nodded as she grabbed the takeout bag.  There was no way in hell she was going to tell Kenna how she felt Mr. Stevens checking her out when he’d arrived.  She’s felt the heated burn of his gaze on her, had heard the huskiness in his voice.  Nor was she willing to admit that her heart had nearly skipped a beat when she’d turned to look at him.  It had scared her, his thinly veiled interest, but for the first time in her life she felt a spark of attraction.  “Yeah, he did,” she pursed her lips into a frown.  “He didn’t even properly interview me, either.  Mrs. McIntyre alluded to the fact that I had the job in the bag before I even came in, but yet he tried hard to make me change my mind.”  She glanced over at her cousin.  “I know you don’t want me working for him, but, Kenna, I need this job!”

The blonde nodded.  “I know, Cuz.  Just… be careful around him, and if he makes you uncomfortable, get out.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” she shook her head. “I didn’t just step out of my comfort zone, Ken, I sling-shotted myself out of it.  I need to face my fears head-on and finally put everything behind me.”

“Thing is, Sam, you’ll never be able to fully put what happened behind,” Kenna pointed out.

“I wish I could,” she shuddered, closing her eyes and willing away the memories threatening to crop up.  “But I’ve already come a long way.”

Her cousin smiled, “Yes, you have.” 

 “Good morning, Dear,” Linda greeted Sam when she walked into the office at 7:35 the next morning.  “We’ve got a busy day today, Vincent has two meetings in the conference room at 10:15 and at 2:45, as well as a conference call at 11:30,” she frowned.  “Which means he might not be able to leave for lunch.  He’s not picky about what he eats, so I usually order from a nearby restaurant that delivers if he gets tied up.”

Sam nodded.  “Does he have a favorite?”

“Heavens, yes, he absolutely loves Gordy’s, the burger joint a couple of blocks from here.  Do you like burgers?”  Linda’s kindly brown eyes swept over Sam’s petite form.

She smiled.  “Yes, I do,” she replied.  “I don’t indulge very often, though.”

“We’ll place a lunch order from Gordy’s today, then, and I will make you a list of all the restaurants he likes and what to order from them,” the older woman nodded.  “Here, let me put your purse with mine,” she offered.

Sam handed it over and watched her slip it in the bottom left drawer of the desk.  “What time does Mr. Stevens usually arrive?”

“Seven-forty-five on the dot,” Linda answered, looking up at the clock on the wall by the bathroom door.  “I always have a pot of coffee ready, and breakfast sweets on hand,” she pointed to the table with the coffee pot and a box of donuts.  “When I first started working for Vincent he was stressed and irritable.  I’ve found he’s much more personable after he eats something sweet.”

Sam grabbed one of the chairs on the visitor’s side of the desk and carried it around to sit beside Linda.  “What bakery do you go to?”

“Sugar Pie, it’s along my route to work,” Linda told her.  “I’m afraid you’ll be driving out of your way if you decide to stick with them.”

“I drove by a bakery this morning on my way in…  Heavenly DeLights, I think.”

Linda’s eyes narrowed in thought as she scooted closer to the desk and pulled the keyboard drawer out.  “Let’s see here,” she pulled up the internet browser and searched for the bakery name.  “The one on 38th?”

Sam nodded.  “Yes.”

Linda pulled up the bakery’s website.  “This one has daily specials,” she murmured.  “Tomorrow is dirt bombs…  I’ve never heard of those before.”

“If you want, I can stop by in the morning and pick up a box,” the younger woman offered.

“You do that.”  She bookmarked the website.  “Oh, I forgot to tell you yesterday in all the excitement of welcoming you to the firm.  You can listen to music if you wish, as long as it’s not loud and doesn’t make his ears bleed as he says.”

Sam frowned.  “I’m not listening to smooth jazz, easy listening or classical,” she barely realized she was curling her fingers into her pantlegs as she struggled to keep herself in the present.  

“Vincent will listen to just about any kind of music just as long as it’s not death metal, rap, or that new hip hop crap,” Linda hastened to assure her.  “Dear, are you all right?  You’ve gone pale on me,” she turned her chair to face Sam.  “Sweetie?”

She drew in a slow and deep breath.  “I’m okay,” she pasted on a smile as she exhaled.  “I just…  I have some very unpleasant memories tied to the music I can’t tolerate.”

Her mentor frowned.  “Sam, if you need to duck out of the office for some fresh air, you won’t be in any trouble.”

“I’m fine, I’m okay,” she whispered.  “I like eighties music and classic rock.  I listen to those all the time.”

“Then that will be what we listen to today,” Linda managed a smile before looking toward the door when it opened.  She glanced at the clock before her face took on a stern expression.  “You’re late, Vincent.”

“Accident on I-495,” he shot a mock glare at the assistant.  “Had to take a different route.”  He nudged the door shut with his foot before he headed to his office.  “Morning, ladies.”  His eyes lingered on Sam a moment, his mouth curving slightly when she murmured a soft greeting.  “What’s on tap for the meetings today?”

“I picked up an assortment of muffins and cookies for the meetings when I stopped for donuts this morning,” Linda told him.  “I made sure to get extra chocolate Baileys muffins and macadamia nut cookies, which,” she leveled a look on Vincent, “you will have to share with Sam.  She loves those cookies, too.”

“Linda, you know I don’t share,” he returned the look. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Dear,” the older woman smiled at her protégé.  “I made sure to set aside extra for you.”

“Thank you, Linda,” Sam smiled back.  “You didn’t have to.”

“If the two of you are through tormenting me…” he trailed off as he walked into his office.

Linda chuckled with a shake of her head.  “He hates days like this,” she murmured softly.  “Usually he doesn’t have more than one meeting and a few important calls.”  She sighed heavily.  “It took him months to get used to the idea that I would efficiently set up the conference room for the meetings, make arrangements for having food brought in.  His previous assistants…  Well,” she snorted disdainfully as she nodded toward the conference room.  “They weren’t dedicated to the job.”  She stood up and motioned for Sam to follow.

Once they were in the conference room, Linda walked over to the head of the table and picked up the stack of portfolios they’d put together yesterday afternoon.  Sam followed suit and picked up the pens.  As they worked together to set up for the first meeting, the platinum-haired grandmother-to-be sighed heavily.

“Vincent had a string of bad luck before he gave the temp agency he was going through for secretaries a piece of his mind.  All the so-called assistants they sent him wanted one thing, and one thing only.”

Going by the look on Linda’s face, Sam understood immediately.  “I promise you that’s not why I applied,” she whispered, too shocked to find her voice.

“I know, Sweetie,” Linda reached over and took her hand.  “They were all local, they’d heard the stories, they’d heard the rumors, they’d seen his photo plastered all over the news.  Vincent Stevens is a very good-looking man.”

“I know,” she blushed when Linda gave her a warm smile.  “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“You did, Dear, but I know you’re not here to find out if he really is a god in bed like a lot of women have claimed.  Those others…  I’ve heard from the girls working the front desk that they would come to work dressed like tramps and not a single one of them lasted a month before quitting.  They quit because they didn’t get anywhere with him.  He's determined to rebuild his image.”

She shook her head.  “I’m here because I want this job,” she stated quietly.  “I’ve heard about his past indiscretions, I’ve heard about the arrest, I've heard that he was cleared of the charges.  I didn’t know him then, that’s in the past and quite frankly it’s none of my business, nor is it my place to judge.”  She met the other woman’s brown eyes, her jaw set with determination.  “I’m here to do a job to the best of my ability to help him run his company as smoothly as possible.  And I hope to be here for the long haul because…  I don’t want to be just a secretary for the rest of my life, I’d like to actually do what he does, design buildings and bring visions to life.”

Linda smiled.  “I believe you will, Dear,” she reached out and gently brushed her hand down Sam’s arm.  “And I believe our Vincent will help you achieve that dream.”

 Vincent stalked out of his office at 9:59, his tie draped around his neck.  “Conference room set up?”  He barely cast them a glance as he headed straight for the coffee. 

Sam frowned as she caught Linda’s eye.  Linda merely rolled her own as she shook her head.

“Sam just finished setting out the refreshments,” the older woman assured Vincent.  “I think you should lay off the coffee.”

“Not a chance in hell, Mother,” he snarked back.  A grin teased at the corner of his mouth.  “It’s my lifeline today.”

Linda shook her head.  “Everything will run smooth, just you wait and see,” she assured him. 

“I hope so,” he muttered, draining the cup of coffee he’d poured before setting the mug down and stalking toward the bathroom to tie his tie.  “Wish I didn’t have to wear this thing.”

“He hates ties,” Linda murmured to Sam.  “He doesn’t like how constricting it feels on his neck.  The only time you will see him wearing one is if he has a meeting.”

Some muttered curses from the bathroom caught her attention once more before Vincent walked out adjusting his tie.  She ripped her eyes away before he could catch her gawking at him.

Never in her life had she found a man to be attractive and it scared the hell out of her.

Linda pushed away from the desk and turned to the cabinet on the wall behind her above the shelf.  “Sam, he keeps a bottle of bourbon in here for a celebratory drink, or for an emergency cool down,” she advised as she grabbed the bottle and a tumbler.  “He rarely imbibes at work, and I certainly don’t condone it, but this, I believe, is an exception.”  She poured the drink and passed it off to Sam. 

She stood up and walked over to Vincent.  “Here, Mr. Stevens,” she offered quietly and pressed the tumbler into his hand.  When his hand curled around the glass, his fingers brushing hers, she shivered and quickly stepped back.  “I should take the coffee into the conference room and make sure everything’s all set,” she babbled before rushing off to do her self-assigned task.

 Vincent turned toward the window and closed his eyes, drawing in a slow, deep breath.  Fuck my life, I do not need this right now, he mentally berated himself.  Do not let her get under your skin, Stevens. 

“Too late,” he muttered under his breath before he drained the glass of bourbon she had given him.

His fingers still tingled where they'd accidentally brushed hers a moment ago.  He had felt her shiver, had seen her pupils dilate behind those damned glasses.  For a split second he thought himself a fool for hiring her, thought she was after one thing and one thing only.  But she had retreated, she had immediately created distance between them by focusing on the job.

Something the former assistants had never done.

He knew he should be relieved that she had done the right thing, but dammit that only intrigued him that much more where she was involved.

He needed to make sure that distance was maintained, that their relationship was nothing more than professional.  He needed an assistant who knew what the hell she was doing, who could run the office efficiently.  He just needed to convince his damned libido that she was off-limits.

He just needed to figure out how.

 Sam felt her skin crawl when the men attending the first meeting started arriving.  Five men with wandering eyes.  It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep from visibly shuddering, and she dreaded going into the conference room with them to take notes for Mr. Stevens.  She picked up the notebook and ink pen she'd set out before taking a deep breath.

"Are you all right, Dear?"  Linda asked with a concerned frown.

She nodded.  "I will be," she murmured before she headed to the conference room.

She shuddered to feel five pairs of eyes tracking her every move to the far end of the table.  She gave a cursory nod as she took her seat before turning her attention to Vincent.

"Before we get down to business on discussing the Mason project, let me make a quick introduction," he stated.  "This is Samantha Monroe.  She will be taking over for Linda once she retires."

As much as she did not want to look these men in the eye she knew she needed to as Vincent introduced each one to her.  She was unsettled to learn they worked for other firms in the building who were vested in the project Stevens was designing.  She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with their lingering stares.

The meeting droned on as the men discussed the project and argued over a few ideas.  Sam looked up from her notes to find Vincent pinching the bridge of his nose, jaw clenched in frustration.

"Mr. Stevens, if I may," she spoke up against her better judgement. 

He dropped his hand to look at her.  "Ms. Monroe," he leaned back in his chair as he acknowledged her request.

Sam pulled her copy of the portfolio closer and flipped to the rough sketches of the building.  "With all due respect, the type of glass vestibule you're suggesting is terrible."

The man who had suggested it (she couldn't remember his name other than she'd secretly nicknamed him Leering Larry) glared at her.  "And why is that?"  His tone held a bit of an edge to it.

"Masters," Vincent warned.

"The apartment complex I live in has glass vestibules at every exterior entry point, including the courtyard," she said.  "Quite frankly it is an eyesore and not very economical.  They are drafty, they leak when it storms, and the hand prints...  Someone would have to be responsible to clean those windows every single time someone touched the glass.  The company that owns the apartment complex has had to replace at least one door and five window panes already this year, due to hail damage and teenagers thinking they're hot stuff."  She held up her hand when Masters opened his mouth.  "Maybe they used the wrong kind of glass, maybe it was built in a hurry, or maybe it wasn't sealed properly, I am aware of every argument you could put forth.  But the fact of the matter is this will only drive the cost of rent for these apartments up to offset the cost of repairs, not to mention the cost of electricity to heat and cool the building around the entry points.  It would be more cost effective and aesthetically pleasing to have an inset vestibule."  She frowned in thought as she looked at the design.  "Mr. Stevens, which direction will the front of the building face?"

"Southeast," Vincent frowned at her.  "Why?"

"Sunlight reflecting off the windows of an exterior vestibule will blind drivers on their early morning commute at this time of year," Sam pointed out.  "It will be a safety issue for drivers."

Masters' eyes narrowed on her.  "You're just a secretary.  What do you know about architectural design and cost effectiveness?"

Sam felt her face heat up.  Before she could formulate a polite rebuttal her boss spoke up.

"Jackson, I will say this only once," his voice was low, even, and a touch frosty.  "And this goes for all of you.  Please do not speak to anyone in my employ like that again."  His hazel eyes flicked from one man to the next before settling on Sam.  "Ms. Monroe has pointed out some very valid issues with the exterior vestibule.  I was thinking the same damned things myself."

Sam noticed Masters getting ready to argue once more.  She also noticed Vincent's barely concealed agitation.  "Mr. Stevens, may I suggest we wrap this meeting up so you can prepare for your conference call?" 

He looked down at his watch and grimaced.  "Yes, thank you, Ms. Monroe.  Gentlemen, we will arrange another meeting in two weeks' time to go over updated designs and budget."

Sam gathered her portfolio and notebook and headed out of the conference room.  She stiffened when she felt several pairs of eyes following her. 

Before she even cleared the door she heard one of the men mutter, "Stevens, you lucky sonofabitch.  You lucked out with a looker with brains this time."

Her stomach churned at that, the all too familiar tone bringing up unwelcome memories. 

She barely made it to the bathroom before she lost what little she had in her stomach.

 Vincent bristled at Johnson's comment.  He'd had the very same thoughts himself, last night in the god damned shower.  He shot the man a hard look but kept his mouth shut as he walked out of the conference room.

He frowned when he heard Linda knock on the bathroom door.

"Sam, are you all right, Dear?"  The older woman looked over at him. 

"What's wrong with Ms. Monroe?"  He asked, focusing on his assistant.

"Poor dear bolted into the bathroom and started throwing up," Linda shook her head.  "She wasn't feeling well earlier this morning, either."

His frown deepened.  "If she needs to go home, tell her to go home," he said before disappearing into his office to prepare for the conference call.

 Sam flushed the toilet before turning to the sink and gripping the edge of the marble vanity.  Her legs still trembled but at least she was no longer nauseous.  Sucking in a deep breath she looked up and grimaced at her reflection.  Her eyes were bloodshot and watery, her eyeliner smudged.  Her chest was red and splotchy. 

It had been a long time since she'd last gotten sick like that. 

She washed her hands and dabbed at her face, wondering how the hell she was going to rinse out her mouth to get rid the nasty taste.  Rinsing with warm water was not going to help.

She jumped when she heard a knock on the door, but didn't answer when Linda called out to her.  When Linda didn't repeat the question Sam looked around, nearly crying in relief when she saw a bottle of mouthwash on a small shelf near the mirror.  She didn't care that she would have wintermint fresh breath (she despised most mouthwash flavors) if it meant she wouldn't be tasting that awful stomach acid.

She walked out into the office a few minutes later.  She gave Linda a soft smile.  "I'm all right, my nerves bubbled up," she lied.  "I went toe-to-toe with one of those men about a suggestion he'd had.  I just hope Mr. Stevens isn't upset with me for crossing a line."

Linda shook her head, her brown eyes studying the younger woman.  "Our Vincent values any impute we might have, Sam.  Are you sure you're feeling all right?  If you need to go home..."

She shook her head.  "I'm not about to flake out during my trial week, Linda," she smiled again.  "I feel much better, honestly." 

"If you need to step out for some fresh air, Vincent won't mind," Linda suggested.  "If you like, I could order lunch and you could pick it up."

"I could do that," Sam nodded. 

[dreamercail]

nanowrimo musings 2.0

so like five years ago I did a little nanowrimo retrospective where I talked a little bit about each story I wrote and what I thought about it. I’ve been thinking of doing another one while also avoiding other responsibilities so join me on this walk down memory lane:

PUTTING UNDER CUT CUZ IT’S A LOT OF WORDS WHOOPS

Silicon (2009) - Oh geez, I hate to even count this one, but it was my first ever nano attempt so I gotta. A story about Theresa Lee, a girl who unknowingly is an android (closer to a cyborg?), and the team running the experiment. I don’t even think I made it to 10,000 words. Features: first attempts at an intergenerational friendship and an interesting framing device. I don’t think I’ve opened the file in at least 10 years. This is probably for the better.

Relapse of Vernadora (2010) - my first NaNo win! Originally started off steampunk inspired but I have no idea what the final product was (there were airships?? and that was really it). A story about a half dozen Chosen Ones™️ who represent ~elemental abilities~ and they have to...save the country they’re in?? Because it happens every couple hundred years?? I don’t really know. Featuring: a fun first half of interconnecting stories and dialogue that sounds like bad anime fan fiction. Overall a yikes from me but I still love Chira Chronum as a character and will until I die.

Colossal (2011) - I will always label this one as the most read amongst people I know. It’s a pretty simple story about a group of teenagers who can see giants and have to go on a road trip to stop the guy who’s bringing them back from the dead. Featuring: a literal ripped from tv tropes 5 man band set up and entirely okay if not weak narration. In the end it’s hard for me to go back to and read because I’ve gotten a lot better but I’m still proud of it. Also the five main teens have such a special place in my heart and I’ll probably never be fully done with them. Also I think my only nano with a sequel?? (that took me like six years to write lmao)

Extinction Could be a Lot Worse (2012) - 300 years after global cataclysm, and humans have become a minority, giving rise to insect- and fish-humanoid hybrids known as Entosaps and Aquacrans. Arata is a kid with a guitar looking for one of the last major human settlements on earth. Featuring: half baked concepts, heavy handed and misguided messages about racism, and one actually decent speech at the end. Ehhhhhhhhhhhhh I’ve never felt great about this one. It didn’t take me long after writing it to realize my messaging was super mixed and not as woke as I thought. Also like a few super problematic parts that make me cringe hard. Not the worst thing ever but not one I go back to.

How to be an Urban Legend (2013) - oh thank god the streak of straight protagonists has been broken. A really fun deuteragonist set up! Aliya is a party girl in need of a job. Morse is a down on her luck, awkward girl with a penchant for local urban legends. Each encounter Mackenzie Fylan, an urban legend known as a parsinct, a person who goes through overwhelming tragedy and emerges with supernatural abilities, and chaotic teleporter. Through a series of events the two girls uncover some peculiar goings ons in the basement of their office building. Featuring: a plot where like not a ton happens and a fun chapter naming convention. In the grand scheme of things an entirely okay story. Not a story with a ton of stakes but it marked a turning point in my writing as far as description writing and narration go. Aliya and Morse are an unstable couple, but I think I take a little too much joy in their dysfunction.

Scribed. (2014) - Most famous for not being finished, rip. In a world where writers are assigned particular individuals to “scribe” their lives, Ariel Hess accidentally discovers he’s being written about by the inexperienced scribe, Maiara Snow. It would’ve been a fun kind of breakdown and commentary on the stories we consume and the protagonists we choose to write about but it never quite made it off the ground (partially due to life being a lot that year). Featuring: really not much but some fun with style/formatting.

The Incredibly Consequential Life of Charlie Zappala (2016) - After having to skip 2015, this was a fun one to write. Also, chaotic cuz I dallied the first half of the month then ended up writing like 22k in 6 days. Charlie is a disillusioned 20-something who always thought they were made for something greater until real life came and beat them with a stick. That is, until an interdimensional elf herald pops out of their refrigerator and claims they’re the Chosen One. From there Charlie has to balance the world of their dreams with the world they know and figure out which is really meant for them. Featuring: first nonbinary protagonist and a whole lot of swearing. Charlie as a character is such an outlet for a lot of processing of what it means to be an adult in this day and age. I love them a lot. Of course, in the manic way the story was written the pacing is wonk and needs some work before it’s the best it can be. Also the only nanowrimo (save the unfinished ones) that never got a proper edit.

a.u. (2017) - HEY DID I MENTION THIS ONE WON AN AWARD. I’m sure I have. To go from no one reading my stories to now thousands of folks having checked this one out is A Lot but also probably one of the coolest things to ever happen to me. Damian is a fresh out of college fuck boy, Alexander is a hipster barista. They meet in a coffee shop, we all know what happens then, right? If by that you meant that a mysterious earthquake comes every morning to the coffee shop and leaves the two with the only memories of it happening, then yes, we all know what happens. A story meant to be an exploration of fan fiction tropes and AUs, but also with an underlying message of what it means to find yourself when the world around you is constantly changing (#kidswhomovedalotproblems). Very admittedly nervous that I was gonna come across as fetishizing mlm relationships just by nature exploring the typical “””””BL plot””””” so that’s probably what’s stopped me from out right asking people I know to read it haha. Featuring: boys kissing and some actually damn good analogies that I have yet to replicate. Did I mention it won an award? And currently has 30k reads?? Anyway read it online. No shame.

Road to Arcadia (2018) - Boy does this one have my whole heart. Set in a very nearby future (about 30 years) in a world where we did jack shit about climate change (so like current trajectory), Kai Gilling sets off to the desert to look for something better. On the way he encounters a pair of siblings and a woman who says she has a map to Arcadia, an urban legend rumored to be the only city thriving during these hellish times. Cue: desert road trip story. I’d been wanting to write a desert road trip story for ages and the route the characters follow is nearly identical to one my dad and I took on a road trip the preceding summer, so it all came together. Featuring: a main cast where none of the characters are cis/het and Jeep Wranglers. The letters Kai writes back home have some of my favorite writing and some raw emotion and thoughts from me. It’s not perfect in its execution and it doesn’t have the playfulness that a.u. has, but it’s really special to me. Also available online! (not as many reads tho working on that one)

EXCAVATOR: Tales from the Twelve Vessels (2019) - Probably my first real big step into hardcore sci-fi and another deuteragonist tale. In the future, out in the deep recesses of space, flies the jaundian coalition, a group of twelve spaceships housing orphaned races from across the universe, most notably the sapiens (ya humans) and the nkrey (kinda like a mix between grey aliens and high elves). The story follows Meera, a wide-eyed Idealist looking to work planetside and Sauk, a convicted criminal who would like to do not that. Shenanigans ensue. It’s definitely out of my comfort zone to write something in a world so unfamiliar and it was hard to do a nanowrimo story when half the time needed was for world building. Also still not fully finished to this day. I got the 50k but still have a lot left to write in terms of plot. Featuring: ALIENS and sassy teammates. One that I probably won’t know how to feel about until at least another year or so.

Thanks so much for reading!! And oh man I’m only scraping the surface of a lot of this. If you ever wanna know one thing I could talk forever about it’s my stories and characters.

[theskytraveler]

So, here’s the deal.

I’ve been a terrible internet friend lately to the lovely @dreamwritesimagines​. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pull a Houdini, you know? In my defense, it’s been one of the craziest years of my life, but now I’m BACK! For good! And I know I said that before, but now it’s FOR REAL.

Btw, thanks for always tagging me in your work, it truly means the world.

Anyway, I need to make up to you, so here’s a little surprise 😉 Instead of reading each and every chapter I haven’t read yet and writing my lovely comments on them – spamming your notes with me in the process – I wrote this little thing here.

To you, Dream, here are my long overdue thoughts on your recent incredible work.

To you, my followers and whoever else might be reading this, here are some incredible fic recommendations. You’re welcome.

Since this is partially a fic rec post, I’m gonna write about everything available on your Masterlist, Dream. You know my thoughts on most of these, but ah well. I’m on a roll.

Series I have already finished: (so you can skip it if you’re curious about the ones I haven’t talked about yet)

First, my all-time favorite series you have ever written, the phenomenal Bad Habit. I guess this started as a one-shot and it became so much more. This series has it ALL! Great characters, smart and funny dialogue, fantastic character development and plot twists that hit you out of nowhere.

Oh, and the Y/N here is basically my spirit animal.

Btw, I reread this series a few days ago, and I wanna know: where is my sequel? Where’s the Christmas themed one-shot? My little Zoe acting as Matt’s sidekick and falling in love with Peter Parker (I still remember this anon headcanon, yes, and I still ship it, yes). Gah, I love this series.

While we’re on the Ben Barnes train, let’s talk about Daddy Issues. It’s a Westworld fic that doesn’t take place in Westworld. And it is GREAT. Logan and Y/N are so cute and the ending was perfect. And I still want a one-shot of a proposal, thanks.

And before we get into the more angsty stuff, we gotta talk about Invisible. It’s the softest series ever. I know it’s on a long hiatus for now, but I still think about Y/N and Steve and the fact that I lowkey ship her with Billy. When you find the inspiration for this series again, I’ll be ready. Also, what the hell happened in Detroit?

Ah, Don’t You Love Me. Don’t I love this series. (Sorry, terrible joke. Don’t you love me?). One of the best character developments ever. Y/N here is so flawed and struggling with so many things. It just makes her so human and real. And her road to recovery was a joy to read. And Steve is Steve. The most perfect puppy of a man. And how could I forget my favorite villain in all your series? Trent is GREAT! I STAN A PERFECT ANTAGONIST!

And, finally, it’s time to talk about Faint of Heart. Another one where the character development we see Y/N go through is astounding. I love Queenie, my favorite Y/N ever. This series had the most perfect ending I could dream of. And not just Queenie, I mean, this series has the most amazing cast of characters, I love all of them! The ones from the show and the new original ones. Queenie, Bree and Eric are my babies. AND I WILL DEFEND THAT SOMBER LITTLE PASSAGE WITH MY LIFE OK? THAT IS MY FAVORITE PART IN THE SERIES, NOBODY TOUCHES THAT!

From this point forward, be aware that there WILL be spoilers for new readers.

Series I started, but you have no idea who I feel about the ending because I never told you and series I haven’t started yet: (again, my bad, sorry).

There is never enough Billy Russo, is there? So, Once a Year. The one I never finished. UNTIL NOW THAT IS! Two dysfunctional people falling in love, ah. Or realizing they’ve been in love all along. Billy and Skittles give me the creeps, but I also couldn’t help but ship them. As I recall, the last chapter I read was Chapter 9 and I had a LOT OF QUESTIONS. Like, what the hell is actually going on kind of questions. AND WHAT HAPPENED LAST YEAR kind of questions. Here are my final (and edited, because this post was already super long, so I had to do some compromises) thoughts on this series:

Chapter 10: My desire to kill Krista is alive and well, I see. Carter is still a puppy and I see myself in Karen, because I too want to see all the drama up close. Skittles and Billy “broke up” and I am SAD. And also curious as to WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?! Always questions, never answers;

Chapter 11: THEY KISSED, OMG, STOP EVERYTHING THIS IS SO GREAT, SO FINALLY, OMG, I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS FOR LIKE 84 YEARS, NOBODY TOUCH ME! THEN HE SAID HE WAITED OVER 10 YEARS FOR THIS, EXCUSE ME DREAM HOW DARE YOU? YES THIS IS HAPPENING IN A PUBLIC BATHROOM, DON’T STOP THEM NOW! (This five steps game is so cute btw, BUT WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS NOW)! HE BROKE UP WITH KRISTA? YAY! JSFOIAHFI IT’S HAPPENING;

Chapter 12: THEY ARE SO SOFT, I CAN’T- and now everything has gone to shit. Well, it was good while it lasted. Why can’t they just communicate? Tell him what is going on, Skittles. Why are you marrying Carter? AT LEAST TELL ME! Oh, wait. They’re communicating. WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT! EXCUSE ME, WHAT THE FUCK? Bring me this Aldrich dude, I’ll kill him;

Chapter 13: This whole “second wedding” thing is cracking me up, I laugh every single time. Aldrich has some nerve showing up in the gallery. And I am reminded yet again of how much Skittles and Billy scare me hahaha it’s great;

Chapter 14: It really is one step forward and two steps back with those two, huh? I love my girl Karen! She ships it and her being confused about the situation is the funniest thing ever. And then she gives the best advice. Gotta love her. And now, back to the Skittles and Billy show… COME ON, MAN! Wait. IS SHE BREAKING UP WITH CARTER? Man, I’m so glad I don’t have to wait to find out, which brings us to…

Chapter 15: Oh, geez. I feel for Carter. Dream, set him up with Rose or something, I’m suddenly so sad. Carter is such a great guy. DAMN IT, BILLY! There are only two chapters of this left, how are you messing things up, man? Oh, wait. MERMAID! Oh, I just remembered that these two CREEP ME OUT. Jesus, Billy. That’s not romantic, man. Skittles and Billy need professional help, my GOD;

Chapter 16: Poor Carter. I’m not really a beach kind of person, but I’m glad Skittles and Billy are happy in a remote location. “BEYONCÉ TAUGHT ME BETTER”, THIS IS THE BEST QUOTE OF THIS SERIES, I’M DEAD! Awn, the gallery is so cute! I love it! OH NO! Rawlings. Of course you needed to give us on last plot twist, why am I surprised? EXCUSE ME, HOW DARE YOU? YOU WRITE AN EPILOGUE OR SOMETHING RIGHT THE FUCK NOW! OH MY GOD! WHAT THE FUCK.

I just...

Of the new series I haven’t started yet, how could I not begin with Crown of Hearts? After how much I loved Faint of Heart there is a sequel? GIMME! Let’s break this down chapter by chapter (again, I had to edit my comments, because they were just too long):

Chapter 1: OMG I’M SO EXCITED. Ah, Queenie’s childhood was so sad, I’m glad she won’t let the same happen to her children. EITR, THE BEST FALCON, I MISSED YOU! The domesticity between Ivar, Queenie and Ragnar, I can’t. It’s too cute. BJOR AND BREE! I missed them too! And Gala and Hvitty. Where’s Ubbe? And Torvi? Btw, I don’t trust any of these new people;

Chapter 2: “Baby shark”. I’m gonna laugh every time I see that. “BWE” OMG! I LOVE THAT! Oh, yes! Flashbacks! I love those. Ok, I’m warming up to this Osmond guy, but I still don’t know if I trust him. Threats everywhere, they really can’t catch a break, huh? STOP EVERYTHING, ERIC the love of my life IS HERE! I am so ready for more Eric content. Can he fall in love with that dog loving shieldmaiden of the headcanons now, please? WAIT, QUEENIE, DON’T LEAVE! I WANT MORE ERIC CONTENT! NO! ERIC, FOLLOW HER! That was cruel, Dream. Wow, those rumors about Queenie. People sure are creative in defeat (burn people from her home country, burn). QUEENIE IS A LEGEND PEOPLE, YOU TELL THIS RAYDON GUY;

Chapter 3: They are really talking about teaching poisons and swordfight to a baby? Of course they are. Oh, they’re waiting until he’s seven. That’s better. I hate Queenie’s mother. Such a vile woman. Ok, I like Osmond. Can we keep him? Make him fall in love with a Viking girl! Or boy! I see him falling in love with someone rather clumsy. I ship it already. “Who did Ivar kill?” AHAHAH I LOVE THEM. It will happen, guys. But oh well;

Chapter 4: I love them all ganging up to tease Hvitty. Poor guy, but still. It’s so entertaining. DAMN BREE, WAY TO GET ME EXCITED LIKE QUEENIE OVER NOTHING! I want this wedding, damnit! But, sure, go off on a raid instead, I guess. “THE BJOR INFLUENCE” AND “IT’S LIKE A CURSE” I’M SCREAMING AHAHHA. Ok, Bree, you convinced me. Go chase your freedom. Excuse me, but WHO THE FUCK TOOK BABY RAGNAR? I’LL END YOU;

Chapter 5: Bree is a godsend. Bless her heart. Taking care of Queenie during this mess. This entire situation is awful, btw. That was MEAN, Queenie! This fandom has raised you better! OH THEY FOUND HIM, THANK YOU! Queenie scares me sometimes, but I guess this time those guys had it coming;

Chapter 6: Queenie is gonna have to make up to Ivar, sorry I don’t make the rules. HVITTY CALLS GALA “MY HEART”, EXCUSE ME THIS IS TOO SWEET! DAMN, Hvitty. Tell us how you really feel. But, yes, I guess Queenie needed to hear that little comment about Edgard. Bree is so smart, I stan. Why are you being shady right after I decided I like you, Osmond? Please explain yourself.

I’m loving this. I missed this gang so much. The only thing lacking in Crown of Hearts is more Eric content. How dare you show him for like two seconds and then NEVER AGAIN? You’re torturing me here, Dream. But ah, I want to know more about what is going on in Kattegat. I don’t trust a whole bunch of people, but, well, can’t say I’m surprised about that. CAN’T WAIT TO READ MORE!

I literally squealed with glee when I saw that you were writing for Bucky. Untouchable is the one I was the most excited about reading. And the best part? I already have 7 chapters to binge! And I am obviously going to tell you my you guessed it, edited thoughts on them:

Chapter 1: I’m liking this setting! The 1940s, what a twist for most of Bucky fics out there, this is great. And Y/N is already so interesting! AH, HI BUCKY, I LOVE YOU! I love flustered Bucky. This feels like they are star-crossed lovers, separated by their “places” in “society” and I am HERE for it;

Chapter 2: OMG SHE’S IMAGINING BUCKY, YES! I already ship them so hard, I s2g. This Charles guy, I don’t like him. I bet he is a Hydra double agent. Who sent her the flowers? Does Y/N have a stalker? I’m worried. OMG, HI LITTLE TINY STEVE! The alley scene broke my heart, thanks;

Chapter 3: Wait. Bucky and Y/N are sneaking around? What happened? Did I skip a chapter? Did we skip time and I didn’t notice? Like, I’m glad and all, but still. AH, it was a dream. I see. Rude. And on that note, Shirley is rude too. Oh, not now, Charles! Go away! Y/N and Bucky were having a moment. Oh, there’s bad blood between Bucky and Charles, I see. Interesting. “If you knew half of the things he did, you would have nothing to do with him”. Bucky, darling, do you really think Y/N has a choice? Men are so obtuse, my god;

Chapter 4: “And sooner or later he would get mean, all of them did” I AM CRYING! This is terrible. Y/N must have had a very difficult life. And her current situation isn’t really any better. LITTLE TINY STEVE TO THE RESCUE! I stan. Steve also ships it, welcome aboard, buddy. And, Y/N is in denial. I would argue that a broth is never just a broth. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. I LIKE YOU THOMAS! He ships it too and he has no idea who is the other half of the ship. Bucky sees the real her, I can’t- “There’s nobody” and I am deceased;

Chapter 5: Daydreaming about Bucky Barnes? I sure can relate. NOPE, Linda! Don’t even think about it! And she thought about it. Argh. But who cares about that when we have Bucky and Y/N being their ADORABLE selves? Bucky, my sweet summer child, you are so fucked. You will be happy eventually, but Hydra, man. Brace yourself for the next 50 years. THE KISS! THIS MOMENT WAS SO SWEET! OMG, I’M DEAD! This was so perfect. So of course Y/N had to run away. Thanks. LINDA I’M GONNA KILL YOU! AND CHARLES IS NEXT! Y/N get OUT of there;

Chapter 6: I need to know. Are the bruises a regular thing with Charles or did she do something that made him angry? I feel like it’s the former. I don’t like it. WHY THE EVERLOVING FUCK DID YOU SIGN THE CONTRACT, Y/N? I hate you, Linda. And you, Charles. OH MY GOD, BUCKY IS THERE! He is the best person ever, so soft. Someone get me a Bucky. Omg, tell him, Y/N! Why don’t you people ever communicate? This is driving me crazy;

Chapter 7: Do NOT ruin this for us, Shirley! Don’t tell a single soul! Or else I’m putting you on my hit list. Y/N and Bucky are going on a date and I am SO excited. Hey, Ruth? Do NOT ruin this for us! Go away. “I want you to trust me first” and my soul has left the earthly realm for I am deceased. Again.

Ok, I’m loving this? I don’t want it to EVER end! Bucky is perfect, Y/N is so interesting and Shirley is also pretty great. I hope she does find true love eventually. But that General guy… I don’t trust him. At all. I’m also pretty sure he’s Hydra and things will get really ugly for both Bucky and Y/N. And given your recent history with Once a Year, I’m not really sure we’ll have a happy ending, so thanks for that. I obviously CAN’T WAIT TO READ MORE!

Now, Burn It Down has nothing to do with FoH and CoH, but it was influenced by The Last Kingdom? I’m sold. (Like I always am when it comes to your writing, as you’re probably aware, but oh well). I obviously read all three chapters and here are my thoughts (edited, as I’m sure you know by now):

Chapter 1: That was a creepy way to start a story. Like, first paragraph and I’m already kinda creeped out, thanks. Hmm, the animal heart bit? We’re not in Kansas anymore, I guess. But I’m intrigued. She doesn’t trust men what a mood, very smart of her. I like her. She’s creepy, but I like her. What happened in Ivar’s tent two nights ago? Ok, I’m intrigued;

Chapter 2: I’m liking Y/N’s and Ivar’s dynamic. It’s fun to see them getting acquainted with each other and figuring out how to deal with this little situation they have going on. Ok, but why is she helping Ivar? Like, yeah, their destinies are entwined or whatever, but he’s so rude. I’d tell him to go to hell, honestly. He’d have to earn my help;

Chapter 3: Well, Hvitty is obviously the brother that will be forgotten. Poor guy, but oh well. At least forgotten doesn’t mean he won’t have a good life. Now, the brother who “shall be the victor” is Ubbe and the “tragedy” one is Ivar, because of course. Also because I don’t accept anything bad happening to my sweet puppy Ubbe.  But like, “victor” of what? This is so vague. This Y/N and Skittles would be good friends.

Ok, I’m intrigued! Not sure how I feel about Y/N yet, but I think she’ll be more like Skittles than Queenie. I’m ready for that! This fic has a different atmosphere than the ones I’m used to see in your writing, but I’m liking it so far. Obviously can’t wait to read more.

So, there you have it! Hope you liked it and I promise I won’t disappear on you again!

[goodbyecringe]

(Un)Natural Selection Chapter 10

Éponine

The Enjolras that I spent a fun, relaxed car ride with was not the same Enjolras that I was watching give a speech on how Illea’s impoverished differed from the impoverished of other countries. I had seen him give hundreds of speeches and public addresses on the Report, but this was different. During the Report he was calm and collected like his parents, and articulated his points clearly enough for the uneducated to understand. But here, in the secret backroom of some cafe, he used terms that I only come across in Monsieur Brouder’s textbooks. He spoke passionately towards the poverty that Illea created for many innocent families when they assigned the first castes. I wondered if Enjolras had ever seen poverty. Feuilly, a Five that worked as a fan maker, offered me several pieces of paper so I could take notes. As Enjolras finished, I realized I had used 2 pieces of paper.

“Excellent job, Enjolras,” a thin man with glasses said, standing up to shake Enjolras’ hand.

“Thank you, Combeferre. I’d like to open the floor for a discussion now,” Enjolras said, taking a sip of water.

Then the room turned into what I imagined to look like a Parliament. One by one, each man would stand and talk about their experiences, proposed changes, and ask questions. They didn’t always agree with each other, in fact it seemed the only thing they did agree on was that the caste system was wrong and there needed to be a change. Since they all came from different walks of life they all had solutions they thought would be superior. But they didn’t overly criticize each other, instead, they offered information, statistics, and personal opinions that would improve each other’s arguments.

“What say you, Lady Éponine?” Combeferre asked as Feuilly finished his statements.

When all of the men turned around to stare at me, their eyes weren’t daggers. Unlike the Selected girls who were ready to pounce, these men weren’t judgmental. I noticed Enjolras sit up in his chair a little more.

“I don’t think I’m the best person to give my opinion on this topic. I mean, I’ve never attended law school, or college, or high school,” I laughed nervously.

“Well only a few of us have attended law school, Joly and Combeferre are pursuing careers in medicine, Feuilly and Prouvaire intend on following the arts, and we have several members that plan on finding careers outside of politics,” Enjolras said.

He wanted to make sure that I wasn’t just pretending to be interested in his politics before he got too far into the competition.

“Well I really resonated with what you said about how “from equal schools spring an equal society,”” I said, reading from my notes.

“And why is that?” He asked, bringing his pen to his mouth.

“Like I said earlier, personally I haven’t received a formal education, and neither have many citizens of Illeá. The poverty that lower castes experience doesn’t allow for much growth or advancement in the socioeconomic system, which is similar to the point that Mr. Coufeyrac brought up when comparing Illeá to France. Even if eventually the caste system dissolved, millions of people would become homeless due to their lack of education. It would be like the caste systems never left because there are people that only know how to work in factories, or make beautiful paintings, or cultivate the land. There has to be massive change over time,” I said, not looking up.

“Do you envision the caste system dissolving?” Enjolras asked.

“I’ve never seriously thought about it. Every day of my life is the exact same as the day before and I don’t usually have the time to day dream,” I said, locking eyes with him.

“If Enjolras would permit, Lady Éponine, I have a book on the benefits of education and the impacts on different age groups that you might find very interesting,” Coufeyrac said.

“Yes, and I have some articles on cultural attitudes and how they affect a changing society,” a bald man said to my left.

“Excellent my friends! If you would all please give those to Grantaire before lunch tomorrow, I’ll make sure Éponine has them,” Enjolras said, standing.

We left the cafe shortly after, once I had time to be properly introduced to everyone. Several of the men, like Combeferre and Courfeyrac were Twos, having very important parents. Joly and Jehan Prouvaire were Threes, but the rest of the men, Fueilly, Bossuet, the bald man that offered to lend me some articles, and Bahorel were all members of the lower castes. I was quickly able to notice that they were all surprisingly different in their own ways. When Jehan introduced himself, he presented me with a rose and suggested I wear red more often, as it went well with my tan skin. Joly refused to shake my hand, instead insisted that we bumped elbows to avoid spreading any excessive amounts of germs. Enjolras laughed and shook his head as each member of his misfit group presented themselves to me.

Once we arrived back at the palace, Enjolras sat in his seat for several moments, possibly unsure of how to conclude. I let myself enjoy the comfortable leather seats until the growling of my stomach broke our silence.

“Did you not get enough to eat at dinner?” Enjolras asked.

“I wasn’t really hungry after breakfast,” I began to explain.

“You didn’t eat lunch or dinner?” He sat up and turned to me.

“Well no, but I didn’t see you at dinner. What did you eat after you scarfed down your coffee and toast?” I asked, turning my body around to him.

“I enjoyed an apple while I read over some reports,” he said with pride.

“An apple? You’re telling me that you help run the entire country running on coffee, a piece of bread, and an apple?”

“A good leader understands the importance of time management,” he said, sounding offended as he opened his door.

“A good leader understands the importance of self preservation,” I murmured getting out of the car.

“What was that?” Enjolras said approaching me.

“I’m just saying that we need you to be on the throne for more than a few years.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“I can’t tell you, your rule,” I said, turning to walk away from him, making sure to smirk so he could see that I wasn’t too upset.

“Well you could at least have a sandwich with me. I’ve spent several hours with you today, Kyran will expect me to know something about you,” he laughed, entering the kitchen.

“You can’t tell him that I went to your meeting with you?”

Enjolras shook his head as he looked around the abandoned part of the kitchen we were in. Everything had been cleaned to expert precision, which Enjolras was about to ruin as he began to slice a loaf of bread.

“So far, the Report only knows the very surface of my involvement with Les Amis, and I’d rather it stay that way. So if anyone asks what we did tonight we’ll try to stay as close to the truth as possible.”

“So you made me dress up in a maid’s uniform so we could eat sandwiches for several hours?” I laughed while he pulled out more sandwich ingredients.

“Well I’d rather the public not be allowed to analyze that part. What did you tell the other girls?”

“I just said we were watching a movie.”

“Well then we watched a movie and came down here for a snack. Would you like Turkey or Ham?”

“Ham please. What movie did we watch? What was the plot? Who was the star? These girls are vicious, you know.”

“Are they? That Cosette girl I took out today was quite lovely,” he said, passing me my sandwich.

“Cosette is probably the sweetest, most genuine girl here. You should keep her for as long as possible,” I said, picking up my sandwich.

“And how long should I keep you around for?”

I thought about my answer while I chewed. Was it too early to bring up my financial concerns?

“Well, I was hoping you could keep me around long enough for my sister to go to college.”

Enjolras gave me a funny look.

“I mean, I was hoping to talk with you about the stipend. I was hoping that some of it could be sent to another family that would save it for my sister to use. Ideally for college, but also if she needed food and things like that.”

“What about your parents?”

“My parents aren’t very good at managing money. I just want to make sure that no matter what happens here, she has some security.”

“Well, thank you for being open and honest with me, Éponine. I’ll see what I can do for your sister. I know if she’s anything like you she’ll benefit greatly from a formal education,” he said before he took a bite of his sandwich.

“Thank you! You won’t regret this!”

I could have said a million more thank you’s that would never be equivalent to how I was feeling.

“Tell me about your sister,” Enjolras said as he sat across from me.

“To be honest, Azelma is a bit of a hopeless romantic,” I laughed, making circles in the wooden countertop.

I thought about every boy she would gush over after our parents would fall asleep. From the newspaper boy to that one boy she made eye contact with on the subway, Azelma never failed to fall in love.

“And you’re not?”

“I don’t have time to fall in love,” I joked, realizing that I just made it sound like I didn’t really want to be here.

“Then why did you come here?” He said, circling back to the breakfast question.

“You really want to know that answer to that question, don’t you?”

“I think I can safely assume that every girl is here for her own personal gain. Whether it’s power, privilege, political agenda,” he gave a special pause after that one.

“I would be very surprised if there was a girl here that actually wanted to marry me because she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me,” he stated.

“I promise when I figure out why I’m here, you’ll be the first person I tell,” I said, taking another bite of my sandwich.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“What I can tell you is that I’m here right now because a nice guy made me the best sandwich I’ve ever had.”

“Well I’m glad I can impress the ladies with my sandwiches,” he laughed.

“How many other ladies do you bring down here to enjoy sandwiches?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

Enjolras laughed again.

The whole situation was oddly surreal. I was sitting across from the boy that I had watched on television eating a sandwich that he made. Enjolras was nothing that I had expected him to be, but then again, what did I expect him to be? We sat in a content silence until the kitchen exploded with shouts and laughter. It sounded like many of the boys had gone drinking after the meeting. Courfeyrac stumbled into the kitchen still holding an empty bottle of beer, but still laughing, which was quite the contrast from how my father handled his alcohol.

“Éponine I think Combeferre and I have to help these poor men into their beds before they wander somewhere they're not meant to be,” he said standing up.

“Oh it’s fine, I’ll just go back to my room. It’s a good thing I don’t have to go back upstairs in that stupid maid’s uniform,” I joked.

“Actually, Éponine, I would prefer if this remained in the utmost secrecy. So even if I was discovered with them, you wouldn’t be associated with us.”

I thought about if that statement was some sort of compliment while I changed back into that stupid uniform to walk back up to my room and wondered if this would all become a regular occurrence. As I walked back upstairs I felt like I wasn't even in a competition to become a princess. For a few hours I forgot about being a Six, and felt truly equal to Twos and Threes. And as I sat across from Enjolras, equal to even a One. I didn't know if this feeling would last forever, but I did know that I would never be able to go back to my old life. I knew that when I left the competition as a Three I would have to get a degree myself, and hope that I would find someone that would share their ideas with me like I had shared with Enjolras at the meeting tonight.