#i guess its a captive audience on the conversion front…

[balrogballs]

Thanks for the questions you were answering about Prayers, and I hope you have time to answer this one too, but it’s ok if not! After reading the literature chapter with Maedhros and Elrond talking about books, I was looking into Malayalam as a linguistic geek because I studied about Tamil in my linguistics degree, so got hooked by the similar scripts. Are these two languages and Kannada, which was another option in my school (in the Midwest so yeah, surprising I know) and, continuing in next.

… and Hindi all mutually intelligible? I’m fascinated by the idea of being able to speak 4 languages if you speak 1 because that’s crazy cool. Or is it that just the scrips are similar and the spoken isn’t? Thanks

Hmm well I have zero familiarity with Kannada so I’m excluding it from the answer bc I honestly have no clue. Anyway, I am no linguist but I can say it’s a no with Hindi though. Sure there may be a few comprehensible words but for the most part, no. You can put on a Hindi film without subtitles and I’d be able to understand like 10% of it. I can still remember sitting for an interview (in the UK!) and the lady seeing my nationality on the form and talking at me in Hindi and me just sitting there awkwardly for five whole minutes until I could point out that I had no clue what the fuck she just said.

Malayalam and Tamil I’ll have to plead academic ignorance because like I said I’m not a linguist so do cross check whatever I say here. But what I do know: both languages are closely related, in that Malayalam derived out of Middle Tamil iirc (as did the word Malayalam lol, the word for people from Kerala in Tamil was malayar = mountain folk /referring to the Western Ghats, which is also what was Anglicised into Malabar/Malabari = Malabar coast), and prior to 1100-1200 AD the language spoken in Kerala was just referred to as Tamil anyway. So definitely yes, closely related.

However, re: mutual intelligibility, I’m honestly not sure if there’s a “rule”? The Malayalam I speak is native to the North Malabar coast, and said region is pretty far from the TN border + geographically isolated due to above mountain range… it’s a heavy coastal dialect* and is quite literally called ‘Arabi Malayalam’ because much of that stretch of coastline’s cultural connections come from ye olde trade with the Gulf. So not very similar at all.

However, I asked my mum who did actually do an MA in Malayalam and she said that shuddha Malayalam, as in the “pure”/RP form of the language, especially the form spoken in the south of the state, is much closer. She also says the two languages are closer related to each other than they are to any other South Indian language, if that helps, and compared them to Hindi and Punjabi, in case you speak or studied either of those. Also that many of the KL-TN border regions speak a hybrid/mixed version of the languages, or people there are proficient in both.

With me personally I would say I can watch a Tamil film which has a dialogue-depth level of, idk, the average Marvel film, and be able to get the gist of what’s being said, but nothing more complex than that. Also complicated by the fact that I spent a couple years in a country where the main Indian diaspora are Tamil hence had a bit more exposure. And I don’t really know how it is the other way around, the only place I’ve been more than once aside from Chennai is Rameswaram a handful of times and people there seemed to understand me fine, but that area is also quite touristy (there’s a big Hindu sacred site there, that bridge in the Ramayana?) so that might also be a factor.

Sorry for being pretty useless here, I’m sadly not an expert on languages 😅 Thanks for the question!

[bullet-prooflove]

"Sweetest of the sunflowers, yeah, you're the sun to me" with mateo chavez?

also an emoji anon is an anonymous reader who uses an emoji at the end of their ask so that the writer knows its the same person without knowing who they are if that makes sense

Oh yea, that's absolutely fine! Happy for you to emoji!

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @gender-queery @stxr-dvstt @wyxroxy

Prequel to:

To The Moon & To Saturn

You’re wearing a dress with sunflowers on when Mateo first meets you at Comic Con. It’s a flowy summer thing that clings to your torso and flounces out at the hips. It’s pretty and understated just like the cowboy boots you’re wearing underneath.

He isn’t sure how the conversation starts, only that once it does he can’t tear himself away. You’re captivating, magnetic and fun, a whole lot of fun.

The two of you are arguing the merits of Matt Fraction’s Hawkeye run when the announcement comes over the intercom about the panel talks that are starting. Mateo, has a tickets to a couple and he guesses you do too.

“I’ve gotta get going to my panel.” You tell him, pulling away reluctantly. “But I’ll try to find you after ok?”

“Sure.” He says, watching you disappear into the crowd before realising he forgot to ask which one you’re heading to. He flicks through the leaflet but there’s a bunch starting right now. He sighs before heading to one that’s being led by his favourite writer.

Gus Shaw.

There’s a lot of buzz around it because no one has ever seen him in the flesh, there’s not even a picture on his website. His comic book ‘Sands of Time’ blew up last year and there’s been a frenzy for it ever since. This event is his first public appearance and Mateo had had to shell out a small fortune to get a special access ticket and an exclusive signing after.

His head is still full of you when he finds his seat in the auditorium, full of missed opportunities and possibilities that will probably never be. He settles back in his seat, his head tilted towards the stage as the host for the panel comes on and introduces…

Augusta Shaw.

The woman he’s just been talking to, the one clad in a pretty sunflower dress and cowboy boots.

“Oh wow.” He says, straightening up in his seat because his mind, it’s completely blown. He can tell everyone else’s is too from the ten seconds of silence that’s followed by thunderous applause.

“I gotta be honest.” He says when he gets to the front of the signing queue, his book clasped under his arm. “I think we were all expecting George R R Martin.”

“Mati.” You greet him warmly, gesturing for his book. He hands it to you and you flick it open to the front page. “I was hoping I’d see you in my audience. We didn’t get to finish our conversation about Lucky the Pizza Dog.”

“No, we didn’t.” He smiles as you write something in his book using a sharpie. “Maybe it’s something we can revisit when you’re done for the day.”

“I would really like that.” You say turning the book around so he can see the message. It’s a string of digits with a heart underneath.

“My phone number.” You tell him. “Do me a favour and text me yours and we can grab a drink in the bar afterwards.”

“I’ll do that.” He promises you, tucking the book under his arm. “I wouldn’t miss  it for the world.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[hxhhasmysoul]

HOT TAKE : I dont understand why Chrollo is so damn popular. He is so boring to me. So yes, they have a fucked up childhood, yes he cares about his members, and yes he has identity crisis or something but still, he is so freaking boring. Maybe I just dont understand how he is one of the most complex villains to ever exist and how he is so deep etc etc.

Same with kurapika. I dont understand why its an unpopular opinion that he is a bad friend when it is evidently shown in the manga . Also his situation is very black and white. Its boring. Nothing much changed from him tbh.

Sorry it took me so long to answer your ask but you came to the right blog with these questions, you’ll find my understanding and support.

I also don’t get Chrollo’s popularity at all. Especially prior to the recent chapters.

I agree with you that he’s boring. His whole persona feels very fake, very rehearsed, like he practised edginess in front of the mirror. His words to Kurapika that other Spiders won’t try to save him felt to me so fake, especially how everything in that conversation was him trying to yank Kurapika’s chain (sorry for a bad pun XD). 

Even his mourning of Uvo feels like a performance. Like sure, I’m not denying he’s sad at that moment but he’s still very much in control of himself and performs the requiem. Even gets himself a captive audience to take a little edge off how shallow and silly his behaviour is. We see him truly affected after Hisoka kills Shalnark and Korotopi. After Chrollo fails to kill Hisoka despite pulling every dirty trick he could and his friends lose their lives as a direct result because he left them powerless. Before that we don’t even see him grieve Pakunoda. 

It all makes sense of course. Chrollo is a theatre kid as we learned recently. He really just took that theatre shit and made it his personality.

And that's boring because he’s a bad actor. He can trick a sheltered teenager, he can provoke an already unstable victim of his crimes. His little cult worships him. But people who look at him from the outside and have life experience like Zeno instantly see through him. 

Even Killua comments on how Chrollo just produces words with his mouth and they mean nothing. It’s such an amazing fourth wall break because it’s Togashi literally pointing at Chrollo and telling the audience this man is full of nothing but hot air. The way Chrollo speaks often feels like he read some deep sounding line in a book and he’s repeating it to wow the audience.

It is all very cult leader charm, you need to be primed for it to affect you properly. For me it’s boring and grating at times. Especially when we see him contrasted with almost all the other characters in the York New arc. We see the vivid connections the spiders have among them, how their levels of connection differ, how they have different attitudes to one another. It’s full of life and personality. And Chrollo there above them, always remaining above the fray, always performing his persona… he’s just such a nothing burger compared to that. 

Because there’s no pizzazz in his performance, no sprezzatura. It’s just fakedeep edgy boi acting like a throwaway cult leader while performatively denying he’s one… 

Chrollo’s kinda cutesy backstory doesn’t really make me care more about him. It just kind of highlights how fake he feels as an adult.

Why do fans like him? My uncharitable and biased guess is that they consider him hot and they like the edgy bad boi performance and just pour their desires of what they want Chrollo to be into that that vacuous husk.

As to Kurapika. Yeah, Kurapika is a bad friend and I have written it down here, I don’t have much to add to it.

Apart from that Togashi muddying the waters on the Kurta genocide makes things worse. It makes his whole narrative treatment of the genocide topic even worse than it’s been so far.

It may turn out that the Kurta did something horrible. And then the Phantom Troupe fans will use that as an excuse to whitewash the Spiders, even if one horrible act by a member or members of a group will never justify a genocide because nothing ever will. 

Even if it turns out that the Kurta did nothing to horrible, the seed of doubt is already there and the door to speculation whether their genocide was justified has been opened. 

And it also allows Phantom Troupe fans to skirt all the other murder that their favs have committed.

[finelinevogue]

Can you do one where Harry take his children and YN to one of his concert and their just dancing around singing along on stage with Harry.

i love this concept so much!! i kinda of wanna make it sad though soooo it’s gonna be harry’s final show :/ hope you enjoy;

oli - 29, felix - 27, belle - 24

The concert had been amazing, but unfortunately it was coming to its’ end now.

The final show.

That’s what Harry had decided to call it; a clever play on words with reference to his first ever solo single. The last 50 years had been a rollercoaster for Harry, from growing up just a kid in Cheshire, to going on the X Factor and winning the hearts of millions and from being in the most successful band of the decade to going solo and still being absolutely beloved. Times had changed, though. Harry had changed. He had a beautiful family of 3 now, excluding his wonderful wife. His children were his universe, no question about it, but they were getting older now - Harry was getting older. He was 50 this year and with that in mind he’d decided to retire. Retiring had involved a long conversation with you, along with a bottle of red wine, about whether it was the right decision or not. But it was - is.

You had suggested he put on one final, massive show, to celebrate his life and his achievements along with all that the fans have too. Tickets were open internationally and it was being streamed on various TV outlets for those who couldn’t attend. The tickets sold within 47 seconds. 47 seconds. It was being held in the Olympic Stadium in London, because it was Harry’s home and it held the most number of people he could genuinely allow.

The concert had started with ‘Fine Line’ songs, which merged into HS1 songs with a few One Direction songs as well. The entire set list had been composed by the fans with various polls on social media, with the concert supposedly lasting 2 hours (although with support artists and a few extra surprises it was more likely going to be 3!)

It had been beautiful so far. Magical. Unforgettable.

Every chance he got, without making it grossly obvious, he looked at you. He'd told you to stick your thumbs up at him every time he caught your eye, so he knew that you were okay - and every time, you did.

The concert was coming to an end now, which everyone was dreading. How could +30 years feel like it'd only been thirty minutes? You were devastated, so you could only imagine what his fans were thinking.

"Hey!"

The end Kiwi, for the second time, strummed throughout the arena and you knew it was time for the final song. His final song.

"Mum, is this the end?" Belle asked you, from where she was standing next to you. You had been dancing together all night and gotten progressively more tired. Your feet hurt. Your throats burned. Yet, as always, it was so worth it.

"Yes, Belles, it is." You tell her, and she pouted sadly. "Dad won't want to see you sad love, okay? He can still sing to you before bed?" You teased her, reminding her of a time when Harry would do such a thing, not wanting her to be all sad. It was supposed to be a celebration, but even you could admit that is was pretty hard-hitting.

"Really mum?" She asked.

You booped her nose annoyingly, before answering. "Every night if you want him to."

The lights changed from their green tone, thanks to Kiwi, back to a bright, white light. It beamed on Harry, making him look even more like the angel that he is. He dragged his microphone back to the centre stage and took a deep breath for beginning a speech he'd told you he'd prepared.

"So this is it, my friends." He laughed sadly into the microphone. He brushed his hair back and took out his in-ears to hear the audience. They were all awwing and crying, but what else did you expect? Their favourite artist was retiring - who wouldn't be crying a river?

"I, um. I'd like to take a bit of time to thank certain people." He coughed, something he always did after performing Kiwi due to his asthma. You thought it was lovely that he'd planned a speech to thank his management and crew. They did so much work backstage and you definitely didn't think they got enough credit for their hard work.

"Okay. I've made a little list..." Harry pulled out a tiny bit of crumpled paper from his pocket. "Just in case I forget anyone." He joked to himself, but made everyone laugh anyways. "So I guess first off, I should start with you lovely people." He pointed around the whole stadium, showing he was talking about the fans. "What you have done for me is indescribable. I think to myself, everyday, am I worthy of even being here—"

"Yes!" An army of agreement echoed around the arena, making Harry stop, blush and smile to himself.

"Well thank you! Um. You have been the best fans ever, and I know you will continue to be. I know you don't owe me anything, but all I ask you to keep loving yourselves and treating people with kindness, because I know I can count on you lot to do that, for me." He sniffled at the end, making you bite your lip to prevent the tears from falling for you. He looked so vulnerable right now, but you knew he'd be feeling on top of the world.

"Jheez." He sniffles again. "That's one thank you down and i'm already crying." He looked to his band to share the joke with.

“Dad’s such a wuss.” Oli laughed, holding his arm around Beas waist, making the people around you chuckle in agreement.

“Shut up you - Mr-tears-in-your-eyes!” You pointed out, laughing as he flipped you the bird - which then got him a hit off his grandma Anne.

All of Harrys family and friends were here, in a special cornered off section. It was such a thoughtful thing for Harry to do. All his family, and a fair few of yours, were sat down along with Harrys closest friends. Everyone was sharing laughs and drinks, whilst using every inch of space to dance along to your husbands boastful music.

"Secondly, my touring family. From Jeff and Ben, to Sarah's Kitchen, Adam, Mitch, Sarah, Charlotte and Nyoh, not forgetting everyone backstage and behind the lights, music and cameras. You've all been the greatest. Everything you do is second to none. You're all talented, warm-hearted, people whom I will carry in my heart forever. Thank you." You noticed members of the crew and band starting to tear up now.

"Moving on to my boys. We've been through it all, lads, and I couldn't have asked for four better brothers than you all. Louis. Liam. Niall. Zayn. Thank you." Everyone cheered ten times louder, maybe because this was as close to a One Direction reunion as the fans were ever going to get, but definitely because Harry had mentioned Zayn. You saw a girl faint at the mere mention of all the boys in the same sentence. The boys lifted up their beers to Harry, stood close by to where you were standing.

"I guess I should say thank you to the women who made all this possible. Mum. Gem. Thank you for signing me up all those years ago. Thank you for believing in me. You've made me the - crap, sorry! - the man I am now and I love you both." Harry prayed to them both, whilst bowing, and swiftly wiped away the tears afterwards. Anne and Gemma, on the other hand, were proudly crying.

"Ol, Fix and Belles. You rascals make me get out of bed every morning and give me more of a purpose in life. You four give me so much joy and happiness. I love you all, even if you do drive me up the wall on an early Saturday morning! Thank you, my loves." You stood close to all your children, giving them the support they needed in this moment. Belle was crying against your chest, the ever-so-emotional woman she was. Felix was stood up, with Heather, with his drink raised to his dad. Oli was to your side, trying to remain cool and stoic, but you still caught the tears that ran down his face.

"Now." The audience calmed down again after awing over your babies. Harry cleared his throat before beginning again. "This evening keeps on reminding me of a very special person in my life. Someone who is my everything and that's my beautiful wife, Y/N." His words make your breath hitch in your throat. You never expected him to say anything about you. I mean, what had you done?

"Mum." Belle called out to you, in affirmation that this was real.

"She's more than just a wife. She's a lover. She's my muse. She's my best-fucking-friend, apologises for swearing but sue me. I was hesitant to let go of all this, at first. What would I do with myself now? You know? People tell me i'm 'happiest on stage', and for a time that was true. Until I met Y/N. She's made me realise that family makes me the happiest. She makes me the happiest." He jumped down off stage, taking the microphone with him. He ran his hands along the fans in the front row, but had no intention of stopping until he met you.

You felt Belle leaving your side, but you were too captivated by Harry to fully understand what was happening.

"So what am I going to do now, you ask? Well..." Harry cheekily smiled at you. "I'm going to make her the happiest woman alive, just as she makes me the happiest man." You began to cry again and the chorus of thousands of fans clapping and screaming surrounds you, only to all stop when his lips meet yours. He tasted like a combination of salty sweat and mint, but he was home. After a minute of crying, kissing and 'i love yous' , Harry ran back to the stage before Jeff could shoot him.

"Thank you all. All my love." He said whilst adjusting his microphone. "Please sing along if you know the words." He asked, full well knowing every single person will be screaming out the lyrics to him.

"Just stop you're crying it's the sign of the times. Welcome to the final show. Hope you're wearing your best clothes."

[miracle-sham]

Stitch Your Ragged Wings and Hope to Soar.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 1, Day 5: Fairytales} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] |

| The folk tales always speak of those destined for greatness. Heroes alongside their faithful dragons, fighting the ever turning tides against evil. But they're just that, folk tales. After all, what are the chances a border-town apprentice seamstress like Marinette, would ever be offered a different vocation by the recruitment guild. |

| Word Count: 3,428. |

| Warnings/Tags: Kingdom/Fantasy/No Miraculous/Dragon Riders Au, Minor Lila & Adrien salt, Canon Typical lies and manipulation from Lila, Explicit Language/Swearing, and Some Fluff. |

———

| A/N: First things first, the word 'Dragoon' will be used multiple times in this piece and it is spelled that way on purpose (see end notes for further explanation). Secondly, yep! It's a dragon riding/academy au. This is the first piece of the series, which I'm really excited for because I've spent ages worldbuilding for! And for anyone worried about salt mention, it is addressed in this piece but the tag is there because of canon-typical Lila manipulation and lies, plus no Miraculous means no reason for Adrien with his sheltered upbringing to realise she's lying. |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

It's been a few days of tense stagecoach travel. And to be fair to Marinette, even she hadn't expected to be declared in the middle of the town square as showing aptitude for a position within the Justice League's armée volante—specifically the dragoon squadrons—thanks to the recruitment guild no less.

Unfortunately, Adrien and Lila had also shown an aptitude. Which, seeing as they all come from the same border-town of Paris, meant they were all trapped inside the same cramped coach space for the excruciating four days journey to reach Gotham Town; the place where they are being sent to attend the dragoon academy, which is technically outside the bounds of the town proper. Seeing as the Gotham Dragoon Academy and Somerset Dragon Range are on the opposite shores of the Gotham river to the town itself.

There's only another half-day until they reach the Mooney bridge and then the Somerset

Dragon Ranges. And luckily, Adrien and Lila have taken to sitting on the same bench, the one facing forwards. Leaving the opposite bench all for Marinette.

Not that having a whole bench to myself for this time will help with whether I can continue to survive as a captive audience for Lila. Marinette thinks to herself, rather disgruntled about this whole situation she's unwillingly ended up in. She was perfectly happily remaining an apprentice seamstress, sewing commissions for Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and the rest of her famous or otherwise clientele, not that fate seemed to care though. Of course, a part of her stipulation she fought the recruiters for, is that along with her studies she can continue her commissions for current and prior clientele alone. Which is to say, better than being completely unable to continue her main hobby and form of stress relief.

The recruiters had also said that baking and cooking would be no problem to practice, as apparently there'll be free reign to "student kitchens" alongside cooking classes so any use of either skill will be "undoubtedly encouraged". Dangerous words, Marinette muses to herself once more, because if I get claimed by a dragon the first thing I'm doing is baking all the dragon dietary-safe treats I can!

“Marinette! What do you think?” Lila asks, voice as cloying as ever.

Marinette startles and half-heartedly smiles awkwardly across at her, “ah, I'm really sorry Lila! I got distracted wondering what kind all of our dragons might end up being and how they might look!” Not, I'm going to love mine regardless of appearance unlike you.

Smiling faux-sweetly, Lila shakes her head. “Don't worry Marinette, I was only saying how we're just like those local fairytales of your town! Three close-knit friends who become powerful and famous dragoon guardians and save the world from the evil destruction of Hawkmoth and his army of shadow dragons! Out of the three of us, I would be our leader, obviously. Since I'm the only one here descended from a dragoon guardian! My grandmother even gave me a token that once belonged to my dragoon guardian ancestor!”

“Wow, you've said it before but I still can't believe how incredible you are Lila! It's going to be amazing training besides you at the academy!” Adrien gushes, gazing at Lila with adoration.

Lila preens at his words. “Thank you, Adrien! But Marinette, since you mentioned what our dragons will be, did you know my ancestor's dragon was said to be the most beautiful of all the dragons in the Justice League squadrons! My ancestor's dragon had orange scales that glimmered red and yellow like flames, and pearlescent white scales along the underbelly. Oh, and the horns were pearlescent white too! Obviously, the dragon I'll get is sure to be a descendant of that dragon and just as beautiful.”

“Wow, no wonder your ancestor's dragon was the most beautiful, they sound absolutely gorgeous! What kind of dragon do you think I'll get, Lila?” Adrien asks, eyes shining with awe and curiosity.

She puts on a show of holding her chin and humming. “Hmm, probably a golden dragon, with shiny scales as bright as the sun!”

“I hope you're right!” Adrien chuckles, “the fairy tales really would be coming true if we both get the dragons you think we will! One with scales of fire, another with scales of gold!”

“It really would.” Marinette echoes weakly, not really believing in her own words.

Lila laughs, “awww don't sound so worried Marinette, your dragon will probably be a plain and drab dragon with some sort of shade of brown, or maybe even grey. But at least it won't be attention-grabbing. So you won't need to worry about people staring and judging or dragons-forbid trying to hurt you for having a prettier dragon than any nobles!”

Marinette smiles, though it turns out far more grimace-like than intended, whoops. “Yeah… that'd be awful. Haha, I'd be really lucky to get a dragon like you described for me, Lila.”

“Oh, I'm so glad you understand, Marinette! Then again, all three of us are besties so of course you'd understand!” Lila titters, crossing her fingers, “we're just like this!”

Screaming internally, Marinette nods and keeps smiling. Dragons-almighty, I'm at the end of my thread here. Hopefully, I'll be able to leave Lila's "friendship" behind at the academy without fear of mine and my parent's reputations being ruined by Lila's mother.

Her attention is briefly taken by the rolling view outside the stagecoach, unable to help herself she mumbles to herself, “the landscape here is so pretty.”

“It is pretty I guess, but not as pretty as my home country!” Lila pipes up, jumping on the new conversation—like a shadow dragon on a sheep.

Marinette shuts her eyes for a second and breathes deeply, chanting internally. The academy will be my fresh start.

———

The academy is not in fact Marinette's fresh start.

It is well past evenfall by the time their stagecoach passes through the gates of the imposing academy. It rounds a large fountain in the centre of the courtyard with a statue of a person encircled by a large dragon. However, due to the darkness and the movements of the stagecoach, any attempts at recognising whom the statue was dedicated after are thoroughly hampered. They roll to a stop before the great stone staircase—where a figure with a smaller giant rat-like creature beside them, is waiting at the top—which clearly leads to the grand front doors of the academy.

Even with the darkness obscuring the view, it's obvious that the academy is a repurposed castle. High stone walls with crenellations and littered towers, a main keep with a multitude of buildings surrounding the inner courtyard. And the most eye-catching of all, the shadowy draconic gargoyles that seem to cling and lurk upon every building.

It's impressive to say the least, certainly the most well-fortified building Marinette has ever stepped foot in her life. Impressive enough that it has her practically clawing to pull out a sketching journal and start creating. However, she's not stupid enough to do that within Lila's presence. No, that'd undoubtedly lead to honey-coated lies and being forced to listen to her prattle on about her wondrous skills and connections to the most prestigious fashion guild in the country.

Marinette startles as the stagecoach door is opened by a footman. She doesn't fuss as Lila exits first, followed by Adrien. As she steps outside last, she nods and smiles at the footman. Whispering as audibly as she can without the other two hearing, she adds, “thank you, sir.”

The footman simply glances at her attire and nods back stiffly.

In the time it's taken to all leave the stagecoach, the figure from the stairs has walked over—a woman with long blonde hair dressed in a casual black leather riding coat, and a not-dog following behind loyally. “Good evening, you must be the potential students from the town of Paris?”

Marinette hesitates for a second before nodding along with Adrien and Lila.

Lila takes a step forwards, towards the woman. “Yes, we are! I'm Lila Rossi.”

The woman nods slowly, “and the other two must be Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, correct?”

“That's correct!” Adrien responds with a bright smile.

Marinette nods and makes an affirmative squeak instead.

“Great.” The woman says, clapping her hands. “I'm Dinah Lance and I'll be one of your instructors during your attendance here. And this,” She pauses to point to the weird giant not-rat with its yellow flecked greyish-brown fur, “is Drake, he's my Ichneumon. You'll learn all about Ichneumon and why they're used within the dragoon squadron during your time here, so don't worry if you've never heard or seen of them before.”

Drake makes a high pitched trill and takes a few steps forward, sniffing the air in front of the three of them. Before scampering in a circle around Dinah Lance.

She smiles fondly at Drake before continuing. “Unfortunately it's a little late to give you the tour of the grounds now, so we'll cover that tomorrow. Tonight we'll guide you to the dining hall for a late night's meal since it's been a long journey for you three or so I've heard, and you must be starving. Then we'll discuss the main details of your attendance, and afterwards, we will show you to the temporary rooms you will be staying in, to begin with. Any questions?”

Lila rocks on the heels of her boots before shaking her head, “no, we've got no questions!”

Adrien copies with a shake of his head too.

Marinette opens her mouth to protest, were you waiting out in the cold for us long? Will the tour teach us about the different places within the academy? Will it take long? What do you mean by the main details? Why are we staying in temporary rooms to begin with? When do our lessons start? Do we need to purchase any uniforms or schooling supplies? When will we meet our dragons? Questions bubbling in her mind like a kettle over the fire, but closes her mouth just as quickly, as she catches a glare from Lila out of the corner of her eye. With that, she also briefly and nervously shakes her head. “N–no, no questions here either, Mlle Lance.”

Internally, Marinette hopes that display is enough to tide over Lila's irritation for now.

Mlle Lance glances over the three of them, seeming to stare at Marinette a little longer than the other two. “Well then, since there are no questions, let us head to the dining hall. And don't worry about your belongings, the footman will bring them to your lodgings.”

“Oh, Mlle Lance, I'd–uh… I'd rather not hassle the staff here, I can manage bringing my belongings up on my own.” Marinette admits, wringing her hands slightly.

Mlle Lance shakes her head, “that's very polite of you but I'm afraid, as you'll be having dinner and we'll be discussing details, it'll be a little while before you head to your temporary rooms. So it'll be far easier on both you and the staff here, if you allow them to do their job.”

“Okay…” Marinette relents easily, trying to ignore Lila rolling her eyes at her.

“If there are no more further questions, then follow after me please, the academy can be rather labyrinthine for those unfamiliar with its halls.” Mlle Lance instructs, already turning around and walking back towards the great stone staircase, Drake on her heels.

———

The journey through the hallways and various anterooms of the academy takes far longer than Marinette could have anticipated. On more than one occasion, she ends up falling behind due to getting distracted by the sheer amount of luxury, art, and finery everywhere. Forcing her to frantically scurry after Mlle Lance, Lila, and Adrien—all three who seem completely at home and unperturbed or uninterested by the décor, unlike her.

By the time they reach the large and ornately carved wooden doors leading to the dining hall, Marinette is flushed bright red from the embarrassment of having fallen behind so many times.

The heavy doors creak loudly as they slowly swing open at Mlle Lance's push, revealing a large dining hall—far larger than any Marinette has seen—with seemingly hundreds of wooden tables and benches. Startlingly enough, there's a boy already seated at one of the nearer benches—eating away at a trencher of hunter's stew.

No Ichneumon in sight, Marinette notes, a fellow student perhaps?

“Good evening, Jason, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be in here at the moment.” Mlle Lance greeted, nodding her head to him.

Jason squints at Mlle Lance and hunches his shoulders defensively. “B said I could grab food from here whenever I wanted.”

Mlle Lance smiles, “and that's perfectly fine. These are new arrivals, so I was just hoping to let them have some dinner without the usual chaos before going over the main details they'll need to know about attending here.” She paused for a moment. “You don't have to stay and listen if you don't want to, since you've heard this spiel many times now. But equally, feel free to stay, I'm sure it'd be nice for you and the new arrivals to get to know each other before meeting the rest of the class tomorrow.”

Jason slowly eyes Lila, Adrien, and Marinette. He places an arm in front of his trencher. “Might as well stay then I guess.”

Mlle Lance nods at him again before guiding the three of them over to the back of the dining hall where the kitchen was connected to. A few cooks were tending to various meals and pots of hunter's stew, as well as prepping trenchers or cleaning wooden bowls, and wood or horn spoons.

Marinette is still half processing everything so receiving a trencher full of hunter's stew from the cooks barely registers in her mind. And next thing she knows, she is seated next to Lila on the end of the bench and table next to Jason, with Mlle Lance sitting opposite her, Lila, and Adrien. The other two have already started tucking into the food, so cautiously Marinette takes a few sips of the stew broth with a horn spoon.

Mlle Lance clasps her hands together and rests them on the table. “Let's start with what you three already know regarding the dragoon squadrons and this academy.”

Pausing in his eating, Adrien grins. “This is the longest standing dragoon academy, and we'll be taught everything from dragon history, to the language of the dragons, to what is known of Hawkmoth and his shadow dragon army!”

“And,” Lila pipes up, “we'll pick our dragons that we'll train alongside and eventually become fully-fledged Dragoon Guardians with.”

Jason snorts, “sorry to break it you two but this isn't some fucking fairytale.”

Before Lila or Adrien could respond, Mlle Lance cleared her throat. “Right well firstly, Dragoon Guardians is somewhat of an archaic term I'm afraid. But you're not too far off with what you know.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason pretends to be suddenly interested in his trencher of stew.

Though, Marinette does catch him briefly glancing up at her with a curious but also disbelieving look in his eyes. She can't help but instinctively curl her shoulders in and make herself as small as possible.

“And Marinette, what do you know about the academy?” Mlle Lance adds.

Marinette hesitates, trembling slightly and licks her lips. “Uh, well I know roughly the same as Lila and Adrien, so nothing that hasn't been said already…”

She catches Jason squinting at her, and she curls up even more.

Mlle Lance nods thoughtfully, “to start with, Adrien, you are correct in that this is the longest standing dragoon academy. You're also correct that we teach our students dragon history—including the history of the dragoons—as well as teaching the language of the dragon. We also do teach regarding Hawkmoth and his shadow dragon army. However, that will be taught across multiple different subjects as it isn't quite as simple as it may currently seem to you.”

Adrien beams at having been mostly correct. “My father hoped I would be chosen to attend a dragoon academy so he made sure I was taught a general overview.”

“And that's more than most know to begin with, so well done.” Mlle Lance praises, before continuing. “However, Lila, here students do not pick their dragons. The process of meeting the dragon who will be raised and trained beside you, is not what most people think of when they first hear about dragoon human and dragon pairs meeting.”

Lila's lips twitch downwards in dissatisfaction and narrows her eyes slightly at Mlle Lance.

Before anything else can be said, Mlle Lance furrows her brows, “one moment students, a matter has just arisen that I need to quickly take care of.”

With that, she rises from the bench and strides out of the dining hall, shutting the door behind her as she exits.

As soon as the door shuts, Jason, with a concerned look on his face, gets up as well and walks the few steps over to Marinette's bench. Quietly, he asks, “Hey, you okay?”

Marinette swallows a breath of air thickly, and still visibly trembling, laughs nervously. “W-well I'm a little over-overwhelmed, I suppose… What with every—”

Only to slam her mouth shut as Lila wraps her arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to her side.

“She's fine thank you,” Lila coos, “just not used to all the displays of wealth in the castle, here, isn't that right, Marinette.”

Marinette pales, eyes widening with panic and frantically nods her head. “Y-yep!”

Jason raises an eyebrow at Lila, unable to keep the slight sneer off his face as he turns ever so slightly to stare at her, “and you are?”

Lila perks up at his attention, flipping her hair back over her shoulder with one hand. “Didn't you hear Mlle Lance there, I'm Lila.” She smiles cloyingly at him and flutters her eyelashes. “I'm the daughter of a very important diplomat and one of my ancestors was an incredibly powerful Dragoon Guardian.”

Jason snorts, and rolls his eyes once more. “Right. Whatever.” He turns his attention back to Marinette and gives her a sharp nod. “What shit has the rich brat got hanging over your head?”

It clearly takes all of Lila's self-control to not immediately switch from her faux sweetness to fury. Her smile turns wooden and her gaze sharpens at Jason. “Excuse me?”

“You're excused,” Jason responds smugly.

“W-what do you mean?” Marinette asks, struggling to process the conversation after the slight cannonball that Jason just casually asked her.

He tilts his head at her, not unlike a bird. “She looks, sounds, and acts exactly like the kinda rich bastards that hold shit above kids who aren't rich, and you're clearly fucking petrified of her. So is she blackmailing you or something?”

Marinette mouths yes at him whilst shaking her head.

Jason raises an eyebrow at her for a second before shrugging with one shoulder, “alright.” He turns on his heel and heads back to his table and bench where his trencher of stew is waiting.

Lila gapes at him.

Adrien rises from his seat and stares at Jason, flabbergasted. “Aren't you going to apologise to Lila, now? You were wrong.”

Lifting his chin, Jason gives Adrien an unimpressed look then flips the bird at him. A few seconds pass before he shrugs and makes a non-committal noise of disinterest, then he starts spooning stew into his mouth.

Lila huffs and scowls at Jason. She turns to glare at Marinette, faux concern practically dripping from her words despite the evident fury on her face. “You should avoid him from now on, wouldn't want the teachers to think you're a delinquent and get kicked out before you even get to meet your dragon.”

Marinette nods slowly and keeps her attention very carefully on her food.

Her patience is rewarded as a few dozen seconds later, Lila loses interest in her and starts eating her trencher of stew whilst starting a new conversation with just Adrien.

Taking her chances, Marinette sneaks a glance up at Jason with a small smile on her lips.

To her surprise, he also happens to be looking over at her. He flashes her a cheeky grin, winks, before going back to eating.

Maybe, she muses to herself as her grin turns giddy, I was wrong about the academy not being my fresh start. Because this definitely feels like a fresh start now, it almost feels like I'm in a fairytale.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| The dragon riders are called Dragoons in reference to the mounted cavalry called Dragoons who used guns/firearms known as Dragons hence the name. And so I decided it only makes sense for these dragon riders to also be called Dragoons. Armée volante means flying army and was what the historical dragoons were sometimes known as, because of how mobile they were. |

| Ichneumon, also known as Echinemon in Medieval Zoology are enemies of dragons (and snakes and crocodiles in some accounts) and defeated them by covering themselves in armour made from mud before attacking. They are also one the only creatures (the other being weasels) that are immune to the Cockatrices' petrifying sight. |

| Fun fact: Trenchers are flat round (often stale) bread "plates" used during the medieval era. They are cut in half and sometimes the fluffy bread innards are scooped out (like pumpkins) so that the loaf's crust forms a bowl instead. Usually the bowls are used to hold stews or soups, though they were also used for non-liquid based food (which is why they later evolved into our modern day plates and cheese boards). |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Nicole’s rambling: In the defense of Oliver Ulliva and age gaps

Okay, first let me remind you - this is my POV on the book as a whole. Everyone has their way of understanding of what exactly happened in Call me by your name (the novel) and you don’t have to agree with everything I am about to say - WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE.

Second thing - I’m going to be using translations and page references to my copy of the book - that being the first Czech edition from the year 2018, translated by Lucie Podhorná because it varies from the OG book itself (for example, when Elio talks to Vimini, my copy says "when did he tell you?" instead of "when had he tell her?"; it's just small nuances). Also, that's why I'm referring to Oliver as ‘Oliver Ulliva’, because my copy canonically confirms this being his last name - it refers to his last name being ‘Ulliva’ a few times since Mafalda cracks his egg open.

What made me even wanna write this rant? I don’t wanna in any way talk about the author or the director, or the actors. But... Well, quite a few things - especially the statement that their relationship was predatory since the very begging (simply because Oliver is seven years older) and that it was practically a ‘consensual ra*e’ and... Listen.

1. The Age Gap

Most of these were from the American audience who viewed the movie - but let me explain why Europeans might view this relationship differently and why you might change your opinion about it as well. I am not saying Americans don't do these things as well, but from what I've seen on the forums, etc., it seems to me that European x American view on age gaps is way different.

For the sake of this statement, I interviewed 10 of my European friends - of which were mostly all Czech. Europeans do not see a problem with having a seven-year (and more) age gap between the partners - you rarely find a couple of which both are the same age; three-years being the “standard” gap.

Young people, around 17 - 19, at least in my country, are attracted to older partners for various reasons - some like the intellectual potential of their partner, some are searching for a form of certitude in an older partner having their priorities sorted out and figured out their lives and what they want to do with themselves; whether we are talking about m/m, w/m, w/w or a non-binary relationship. One of my friends told me she searches older partners solely because they feel more protected by them. It's the sense of serenity, a different feeling of connection and different understanding to your other half.

I've talked to four of my friends, who both have partners of the same age or max. 1-year gap and even they told me they absolutely can see themselves dating a partner older by minimally five years. So, it's not a controversial thing here, really.

Maybe it’s more common in here, but rarely anyone frowns upon such relationships. At the time of my first relationship, my first partner was five years older than me - and I honestly couldn’t see myself with someone my age. From my experience, the relationships and bonds have a higher probability to last longer (we had a beautiful relationship of three years), it isn’t only driven by hormonal side of things and such, the feelings can develop into something more meaningful than just simple and shallow lust. More for that matter - most of these age-gap relationships didn't end extra-bad breakups and the partners tended to continue seeing each other as friends.

When I interviewed my friends, asking them about the length of these relationships, it was never less than a year. Usually, they said that they learned a ton of new stuff about themselves and having a healthy, normal relationship than from dating someone their age. So... Yeah. I guess that personal, first-hand experience is what makes us see the relationship for its good and bad, but still assures us not to perceive the relationship as predatory.

Now, you might say that while were living in the 2020s', Call me by your name took place in 1983 - and guess what? It was written in the year 2007. Does that mean something? The answer is - no. My grandma met my grandpa in the 80s' (I asked her about this as well and they have 14 years gap; my other grandma and grandpa met at the end of 80s' and the start of 90s' and they, as well, have 8 years between them) and by this, you can see that the situation is more or less the same as it was.

For all of the above, I can see why Elio fell for Oliver so quickly. First and foremost - he mentions Oliver being older like... Three, four times in a book that has word count 76.996? Elio doesn't care about age - it's a story about two human beings falling in love. It's not trying to research the problem of age and such. Stop judging the story for the wrong reason, ffs.

2. The 'consensual ra*e' argument:

Another thing I've encountered is the audience calling the story 'consensual ra*e'... Let me elaborate and tell you why you're wrong. In America, the age of consent is 16 - 18. In Europe, we have the age of consent established at 15 (the lowest being Estonia with 14) and you are a lawful adult at 18 years old. Given that Elio was 17 in the summer and 18 in November, he was already perceived as an adult; given what were his parents like and what relationship they had to him. (Again, I am looking at the story from today's perspective since the audience did as well). He was a man at the time Oliver came to Italy, he was a man at the time he had sex with Marzia, he was a man when he had sex with Oliver and he was a man when he traveled to Rome.

Elio should be perceived as an adult who carries most of his personal responsibility on his shoulders (since you're more than partially punished for the laws you break from the age of fifteen) and if he decides that he wants to be in a sexual relationship with an older man - he can rightfully do so. Surely, the relationship had another big B U T (for some people) - homosexuality and homophobia. And from the historical standpoint, I don't wanna spend too much time over it. The LGBT movement foundation ties back to 1969; given that Italy was in the capitalistic pro-American part of Europe (Czechia was under the Communist regime at the time, so homosexuality was barbarically punished in my country), I think there wasn't a problem with a subtle, not-too-obvious gay relationship. Sure, you couldn't walk into the open and hold hands and such, but you wouldn't get you beheaded.

Yeah, I mean, I'm not an expert on Italian war history and I don't particularly know what happened with Italy after WW2, but I know that in 1985, first LGBT organization got founding from the republic and from that I assume the situation, especially if it would be a subtle relationship, wouldn't be as bad.

In the story, it is hinted that both Sami and Anella were aware of the whole relationship - I mean, come on. Sami knew (since he had the big speech about being corrupted at the age of thirty, ("I think he's better than me, dad".; "And I am sure he would say the same about you, which both of you makes seem like good people." - Call me by your name, page 221)) and Anella perfectly knew at least in the movie - I mean, the car-ride home? Oh, she knew very well and she even told Marzia at the dinner, IMO.

Now tell me why would the relationship be a consensual ra*e? Because it is not bent to accommodate American laws? Because it not an ordinary every-day relationship? In which way is it ra*e? At the age of 17, you are taken as A D U L T who has their responsibilities to fulfil, at least here in Europe.

3. Oliver didn't love Elio as much as Elio loved Oliver:

... What? I mean... What?

Sure, you are seeing the whole story from Elio's eyes and for that, you are more likely to take Elio's side in this matter. In the end, it was Oliver who was getting married, right? And he was the first one to reach out, right? Well... It was a both-sided thing. At the first few pages, Elio says “"Do you want to look at them? "Not now, maybe later." Polite indifference, as if he noticed my out of place zealous effort to make him like me as he pushed me away briskly."; page 12 and on page 18, Elio states "We started - he must've seen the hints way sooner than I did - to flirt.", let alone that Elio describes that probably, Oliver visited his room while he was asleep.

I can see where the opinion that Elio loved Oliver more could've come from - he was young, hasty and captivated by the entirety of Oliver. Since we see the story by his side, Oliver can seem to be the less active out of the two. But trust me, he loved him the same amount, if not more. This was confirmed by both Sami and Vimini -

Page 92, a conversation between Elio and Vimini, Oliver went to the sea with Anchise:

"Do you know where Oliver is?" "I don't know. I thought he went fishing with Anchise." "With Anchise? He's crazy! He almost killed himself the last time!" No response. She was looking at the sun slowly setting down. "You like him, don't you?" "Yes," I responded. "He likes you too. More than you do - I think." You really think so? - No, Oliver does. - When did he tell you? - Not too long ago.

and page 220, when Sami and Elio talk about their trip to Rome:

"Oliver may be very intelligent—," I began. Once again, the disingenuous rise intonation announced a damning but hanging invisibly between us. Anything not to let my father lead me any further down this road. “Intelligent? He was more than intelligent. What you two had had everything and nothing to do with intelligence. He was good, and you were both lucky to have found each other, because you too are good."

Which obviously shows that both of the people who are indirectly watching the relationship between Elio and Oliver blossom in front of their very eyes are aware that both were very much in love. And Vimini, even if she said 'Oliver does think he loves Elio more', she could see that these two are very much attracted to each other. She was spending a lot of time with Oliver throughout his stay in Italy and she was beyond intelligent - these two were an incapable pair idiots compared to her.

So, no, Oliver doesn't love Elio more; he's just not being as childish about it as Elio is. Once more, the age gap is tying into this topic; while Oliver has his 'hot-headed' days, he already went through the phase of being obsessed by someone (or at least the phase being obsessed and letting the surroundings know). He is slightly more mature than Elio, so he just doesn't let himself go that easily.

And I think that he maybe suffers from internalized homophobia - page 224, Oliver talks with Elio as he comes back for Christmas:

"You should leave then. They (Elio's parents) know about us." "I figured so," he responded. "How?" "By the way your father spoke. You're lucky. My father would have me carted me off to a correctional facility."

In this short piece of dialogue, you can see that Oliver's father isn't okay with LGBT (not too much to wonder about, the American society was different than it is now, it wasn't a safe space for queers). And it's plausible that if Oliver had listened to this as he grew up, he got scared when his mind and body reacted to Elio in this way. We can see that for Elio, he lets go for some time; as they sleep in the 2nd part of the book and visit Rome together in the 3rd part of the book. He tried to overcome the fear and simply because he was in love with the boy, he did overcome it.

But you can see the broken shell (which was tore down in Italy) slowly getting together as Oliver gets back to the USA. He, once more, is under the pressure of American society who is not LGBT friendly at the time, his own father would've never supported his decisions regarding his love life, it could cost him his academic career... And for all of these reasons, it was more logical for Oliver to get married. It was his way of putting order back into his life; it was his way of being good as he says Elio.

So, yeah. Here you have it. Oliver was in love, the relationship could benefit both parties and it wasn't a consensual ra*e, thank you very much.

[etoileholland]

I'd gladly surrender myself to you, body and soul

 Anonymous asked: I’ve always loved this idea. A lonely Tom wanders into an old jazz club where reader is a last minute substitute sultry singer. The two lock eyes and reader makes the first move by getting flirty during her song and Tom is desperate to find her after the show.

Pairing: Tom and female reader

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

A/N: I loved this idea too, thank you so much for requesting it! I really hope you enjoy it and I hope I did it justice. As always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

Also the songs I used in order were: Crazy He Calls Me by Billie Holliday, Autumn Leaves by Nat King Cole and Why Don’t You Do Right? by Benny Goodman (all song lyrics are italicised)

Tom solemnly walked down the streets of Greenwich Village in New York, his coat collar popped to attempt to conceal his face, which also helped provide some warmth against the chilling autumn wind. It was nearly midnight, and Tom was enjoying some solace in a city that never sleeps.

He hadn’t wanted to be bothered by anyone, while at the same time wanting people to care. Since fame, he’s grown increasingly lonely as people cared less about him and more about the idea of him.

Looking up at the vast skyscrapers and massive apartment buildings that lined the streets, he wondered how many of their inhabitants felt as lonely as he, a thought he pondered for a while.

Tom took solace in knowing that many of the loneliest and most talented people have spent time and come from this city, and somehow that was a comforting thought. In the distance he heard some smooth jazz echoing in the streets, and as he walked down Seventh Avenue, the music grew louder. A few blocks down, he was standing in front of an old jazz club- its name, ‘Village Vanguard’. The name of the club was illuminated in a red neon glow that was a stark difference to the noir of the night sky.

Hesitantly, he gently pushed open the red doors and was met with an intense red lighting illuminating the club, the smell of cigar smoke lingering in the atmosphere. The club was intimate, maybe only fifty seats, and on the wall were photos of famous jazz musicians who’ve performed here. He wandered over to the bartender who was talking to an older gentleman about something pressing. He took a seat right nearby the talking strangers, slightly eavesdropping in on their conversation.

“What do you mean he’s out sick? I know that kid is lying to me.” The older gentleman stated. He was a hefty gentleman who spoke with a dangling pipe in his mouth, not caring that small particles of ash floated downwards onto the bar table. He wore a gold ring on his pinky and had a deep bellowing voice.

“Listen, all I know is he texted me and said he can’t make it, but he knows of a replacement. He called her a ‘throwback to the golden era of jazz’, with a voice as sweet and sultry as honey. He promised he wouldn’t let you down.” He poured some scotch into a glass, added ice and slid it over to Tom.

“Um how did you know-”

“I have a gift, I know what everyone’s usual is without even knowing them.” The bartender interrupted, his gaze shifting back to the older man.

“He better not be lying to me, that idiot kid. God if he weren’t my grandson I would’ve fired him immediately.” He downed his drink and looked at Tom, who instantly tensed up.

“Where are you from kid?” The gentleman puffed on his cigar, allowing the smoke to sit in his lungs a second before blowing it into the bartender’s face.

“London.”

“So what brings you here to New York, Londoner?”

Tom took a second to contemplate the man’s question, deciding whether or not he should tell the truth. “I was looking for a change of scenery, I suppose. And tonight I was wandering around for a bit and stumbled upon this place.”

“Well you stumbled into the right place, ya classy man. Ya like jazz?” He asked as he took another puff of his cigar.

“I’ve heard some songs but I’m not the most avid listener.” Tom swirled the glass in his hands, the ice clinking against the glass.

“Oh after this you will, jazz has to be listened to live, you see. You need to feel the energy coming from the percussions and brass, and bask in the aura. It’s an otherworldly experience.” He patted Tom on the back and he nearly choked.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Tom added as he downed his drink. The bartender was quick to pour Tom another drink, sliding it over to him.

“Where is this replacement, huh?” The man asked as the bartender pulled out his phone. “Should be here any minute according to him.” He stuffed it back in his pocket before resuming his work.

The front door swung open and Tom, along with everyone else, looked at the figure who sauntered into the room. You were wearing a long evening gown and heels, neck adorned with jewelry. Your hair was up in a vintage updo with little tendrils of hair framing your face. The men howled and whistled at you, and you playfully rolled your eyes. Your eyes then scanned the room as you looked for the owner of the establishment that your friend described to you. Deciding to ask the bartender, you moseyed over to him.

“Excuse me; I’m looking for a gentleman named Tony. I’m the replacement singer for tonight.” Your voice was low and sultry, matching the ‘honey’ description. Tom was mesmerized by your plump red lips, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“Well you found him, I’m Tony.” He grabbed your hand, lightly caressing it before kissing the top of it. Your gaze met the bartender’s as he slid a drink over to you.

“Hmm, gin and tonic, how’d you know?” You took a long sip while the men gazed at you, the bartender raising an eyebrow. To say you were entrancing was an understatement, and they all watched your lips hug the rim around the glass. You finished the drink and set the glass on the bar table.

“You never did tell us your name.” The bartender smirked, your lips curling up slightly. “Y/N.”

A beautiful name for a beautiful girl, Tom thought. You noticed him looking at you and you smiled.

“You never did tell me your name, darling.” You looked right into Tom’s eyes and smiled, making sure to emphasize the last word.

Tom gulped, attempting to match your sultry and seductive energy. “It’s Tom.” He took a drink of his scotch and your eyes glinted in the red lighting.

“Enchanté, London boy.” You winked, playfully tilting your head to the side. Tom looked at you curiously when you guessed where he was from, and you smirked. Already loving the attention that he was feeding you, you made sure to keep his focus solely on you. Returning your gaze to Tony, you let out a breathy sigh before asking, “Well, when do I go on?”

“Right now princess, go talk to Big Louis over there on the piano and let him know you’re ready.” The men watched you walk away, making sure you were out of earshot before speaking.

“Say, if I didn’t know any better son, I would think you’ve already fallen in love with her.” Tony remarked, swirling his drink in his hand before taking a sip.

“Maybe so.” Tom stated as he leaned onto the bar table.

“I hate to break it to you but you have no chance.” Tony paused, looking over his shoulder as if he expected someone to be eavesdropping in on their conversation. “I’ve heard my grandson gush about her nonstop but they never got together. This is the first time I’ve ever met her and I now see why he chased after her pathetically.” He paused, taking a sip of his brandy.

“Apparently, at least according to my grandson, she doesn’t bother finding love. She knows that there’s no man good enough, and she’s right. Look at her and tell me there’s anyone worthy enough to love that.” He downed his third drink of the night and motioned for the bartender to pass him a glass of water.

Tom, looking down at his hands which were clutching the glass, began to ponder what the man said. He wondered if the man was right, since his grandson apparently is quite familiar with you. The way you looked at him though said otherwise, and he held onto the tiny bit of hope that maybe you were as mesmerized by him as he were you.

The men watched you saunter over to Louis on the piano, lightly placing your hand on his back as you whispered in his ear. You bent down slowly and you felt the gaze of fifty people on you. Louis got up from the stool and you sat down, adjusting your dress and checking the microphone.

“Hello cool cats, how’s the night been treating you?” You spoke in your signature low voice as the room exploded in whistles and hollers. You smirked and looked coyly at Tom, who began to blush. You composed yourself before speaking again. “I’m only here for a short time tonight but trust me, I’ll make it worth your while.” You breathed, the men in the crowd whistling loudly. “It would be wrong if I didn’t perform a song by the one and only Billie Holliday, so ladies and gentlemen, here’s ‘Crazy He Calls Me’.”

You rested your fingers over the keys and mentally prepared yourself to sing in front of an already captivated audience. Your fingers glided over the keys with ease, making it seem effortless.

“I say I’ll move the mountains, and I’ll move the mountains, if he wants them out of the way.” You sang softly. You looked over at Tom who was leaning back against the bar table, arms crossed as he watched you sing. You lightly bit your bottom lip, which drove the men wild.

“Crazy he calls me. Sure, I'm crazy, crazy in love, I say.” You began to improvise the notes slightly, embellishing it as you went along. You looked into the crowd, quickly meeting Tom’s gaze again before looking down at the keys.

Tom instantly knew he was already madly in love with you. His mind wandered to what Tony said earlier about you not deeming any man worthy enough for your affection, but Tom was determined that he would be the one who could change your mind.

He observed the way you looked at him with a glint in your eye, a smile always leaving your lips as your eyes studied his face. He was hoping and praying that you were as captivated by him as he were you.

As you wrapped up the song, you made sure to sing the last verse straight to him. There was something that drew you in about him, and you were desperate to get close to him.

“I say I'll care forever, and I mean forever, if I have to hold up the sky. Crazy he calls me, sure, I'm crazy, crazy in love am I.” You embellished the last few notes on the piano and the room erupted with hollers, whistles and even love proclamations.

As the room filled with applause, you stood up from the piano stool, bowing as you basked in the attention. Licking your lips, you looked over at Tom, who had a grin on his face. You smiled back at him, clearing your throat to prompt the audience to settle down.

“I could use a drink right now, how about a scotch on the rocks?” You said into the microphone, making sure to look over at Tom who now had a smirk on his face. That was his drink of choice, and to make sure he knew you paid attention to detail, you ordered the same thing he had. Tom winked at you which illicited a small giggle. The bartender, whom Tom discovered was named Lionel, swiftly prepared your drink, leaving his workplace to bring it to you.

“Merci, darling.” You whispered, taking a long drink from the glass and setting it gently on top of the grand piano. He swiftly made his way off stage, heading back to the bar to continue preparing drinks for the audience.

Tom watched the way your lips went around the rim of the glass, observing how you lightly smack them after every sip. He was well aware of the fact that he was making his attraction obvious to you, but in that moment he didn’t care. He only wanted you, now more than ever.

As you lightly tapped on the microphone to ensure that the attention was back on you, you spoke to the audience. “This song means a lot to me, and hopeful it’ll mean a lot to you as well. It’s autumn here in New York, and the song is fitting for reminiscing a love no longer in one of the most beautiful seasons here.” You began to play the first notes of the song; the trombone player following your rhythm.

“The falling leaves drift by the window, the autumn leaves of red and gold. I see your lips, the summer kisses, the sun-burned hands I used to hold.” The rawness and pure vulnerability in your voice when you sang the lyrics made Tom’s heart sink. He couldn’t fathom the idea that someone would love you, and then leave you. It was evident from your voice that you were missing someone, the sheer thought of it alone was heart wrenching.

“Since you went away the days grow long, and soon I'll hear old winter's song. But I miss you most of all my darling, when autumn leaves start to fall.” You slowed your playing as the violinist took over, playing their solo as the song came to an end. The audience paused a second before applauding, as a man in the front row wiped away a stray tear from his cheek.

“I’m sorry there’s not one dry eye in the room.” You joked. The man in the front row let out a little sob as others laughed lightly.

The audience watched as you made your way from the piano over to the microphone in center stage.

“I’m gonna finish off tonight with a rendition of one of my favourite Benny Goodman’s songs. Also, a large thank you to ‘Swinging Louis’s Big Band Orchestra’ for accompanying me tonight.” You clapped as you watched the ensemble stand up, bowing before taking their seats.

Looking over at the players and giving them a little nod to signify you were ready, the cellist began to play as you slowly swayed your head to the beat.

You glanced over at Tom, blowing him a kiss and stifling a laugh as his face turned beet red in a matter of milliseconds. Everyone in the crowd turned their heads to see who you were giving your attention to, looking at Tom, then shifting their focus back to you.

“Maybe I was wrong kid, you might just have a chance with her.” Tony remarked as he slapped Tom on the back.

“My heart is sad and lonely, for you I sigh, for you dear only. Why haven't you seen it? I'm all for you, body and soul.” Your gaze pierced through Tom and he smiled. He knew that you were his and he was yours, he felt it in his bones. His eyes trailed down your body, gaze stopping right where your gown’s neckline plunged. You, noticing where his gaze rested, retaliated by putting your hand on your chest and moving it slowly up to your cheek. His face turned red when he saw you wink at him.

“My life a wreck you're making, you know I'm yours for the very taking. I'd gladly surrender myself to you, body and soul.” You finished the song and the room erupted into a loud fit of applause, whooping and whistling, and even some roses being passed to you by men in the front row. You bowed, slowly making your way upstage as someone asked for your autograph.

“I’m not famous sugar.” You laughed but the man shook his head. “Trust me you will be.” He handed you a napkin and a pen. You walked over to the piano so that you would have something hard to write on, autographing it for him as you lightly kissed the paper which left a red lipstick stain below your name. Handing the napkin back to him, he blushed, grabbing your hand and placing a light kiss on the top of it. Now blushing, you spoke into the microphone one last time to wrap up the performance.

“I appreciate everyone allowing me to play tonight. Go find someone to love and have a good night.” More applause filled the room as you walked off backstage.

As the applause died down, Tom looked over to his right to ask Tony where he could find you. When he saw a vacant seat next to him, he began to panic. He didn’t even notice that Tony was no longer sat there, but then again, he was so entranced by you that he didn’t pay attention to much else.

He glanced over at Lionel who was pouring a glass for the gentleman who had asked for your autograph.

“Lionel, where would Y/N be?” He asked with a hint of urgency in his voice. Lionel pondered it for a second and pointed at the back door. Tom nodded, hopping onto the stage and going through the back door. He hesitantly made his way down the corridor, careful to not make any sounds that would draw attention to himself. His ears perked up when he heard your voice, conversing with Tony who was discussing your pay. Peeking his head around the corner from where he stood, he listened some more as he then heard Tony give you an offer he thought you couldn’t refuse.

“C’mon princess, the crowd loves you. Just think, you could play here every weekend and make a ton of money.” You scoffed and Tony rolled his eyes. “You could easily become famous, you have an amazing stage presence and you’re clearly talented. Come on Y/N, take the offer.”

“Listen Tony, tonight was fun but I only did it for one night. After a while I would inevitably lose my charm and people wouldn’t come to see me anymore, so I better quit while I’m ahead.”

“You and I both know that wouldn’t happen, you could easily be as famous as Holliday, or even Fitzgerald. You can’t try to tell me you don’t have that kind of talent in you.”

You paused for a minute, pondering the idea once over in your mind.

“I’ll think about it, but for right now I still stand behind my answer. Singing will become a chore and then I’ll be miserable.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest as Tony let out a sigh.

“Alright, there’s no reasoning with you. The offer still stands though, so one day when you change your mind you can let me know.” Tony said as he watched you walk out the back door of the club, the door slamming shut. Just then Tom turned the corner to follow after you, and he and Tony met face to face.

Tony looked at Tom sympathetically, and spoke. “Kid, I know you like her but she’s stubborn.” He paused a second, wagging his finger as a thought flashed over him. “On second thought, I can tell that you are too, so if you want to chase after her she went out that way and walked down Waverly Place. While you’re at it try to convince her to change her mind, will ya? You and I both know she’s extremely talented. Now go.” He pointed towards the door and moved out of Tom’s way.

“Thank you.” He replied quickly, bolting out of the building as he looked for you. He ran down the street and stood at the intersection of Waverly and 7th Avenue to try to find you.

A fair distance away, he saw you walk towards an apartment building, calling your name as he watched you stop in your tracks. Turning your head around to see Tom running towards you, you waved to him and waited for him to catch up.

“Y/N, you were amazing.” He breathed heavily, fatigued from nearly sprinting.

“Thank you Tom, I really appreciate that. It was nice to know you were in the crowd.” You looked him up and down, noticing his broad shoulders and his slightly tousled curls.

“Why won’t you take the offer though?” He asked, out of breath as he bent forward and rested his hands on his knees.

“Oh so you heard that?” Tom only nodded as he began to catch his breath. “Personally, I would love to perform every weekend, but I don’t want the fame. Contrary to what you might believe, and what you’re accustomed to,” she poked his chest softly, “I’m not in it for the fame. I just want to enjoy what I’m doing, and not make it a chore.”

Tom stood there slightly dumbfounded at what you had just said, and let out a small laugh. “You know, that hit close to home. That’s the whole reason I ended up in New York, for the anonymity. Being famous is exhausting and right now I’m sick of it.”

“I think it would be torturous to be famous.” You remarked, and Tom agreed. “Oh yeah, it definitely can be.” Playing with your apartment keys nervously, you stuffed them back in your coat pocket and looked up at Tom, who was looking at you.

“Where did you learn-” Tom began to ask but you interrupted him. “Self taught.”

“Wow.” He gasped. You gave him a half smile and looked down at the ground. “I would love to teach you, if you’d want.” You said which caused Tom to smile. “I’d love that.”

You both stood there in silence, unsure of what to say next. The air was brisk, and the city was quieting down. After a minute, you decided to speak.

“Hey since it’s late I should probably get going, but-.”

“Wait, would you-”, he exhaled, “want to go out with me? At least, until I inevitably have to go back home to London.” His hand reached for the nape of his neck and rubbed it, the other stuffed into his pocket as he awaited your answer.

Blushing, you bit your lip and looked at him coyly. It was evident that he was becoming flustered as you stood there, silent.

Taking a step forward, you placed your arms around his neck, lightly pressing your chest to his. He hesitated before putting one hand on your hip, the other on the small of your back.

You leaned your face closer to his and closed the gap between you two. He kissed you back; his lips were soft, still tasting vaguely like scotch. After a minute you were the first to pull away but he pulled you back in, kissing you more passionately.

“I would love to go out with you, London boy.” You whispered against his lips as he kissed you again.

——

Additional A/N: I don’t give enough credit to my best friend/beta reader @scarletxwidow​ for always helping me revise and edit all of my stories. She deserves the world and please go send her some love. Also to everyone who has sent in a request, thank you and know that I am working on them 💛

mes anges (taglist): @sunflowerhollands @fangirlwithasweettooth @lmaotshollandd @musicalkeys @taciturnspidey @graceluvsyouu

[doitforstamets]

A fanfic..!

Edit: AO3 with more chapters!

Star Trek Discovery Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets Before Discovery General audiences / Not beta read

Paul sits in the dim hotel lobby, tapping on his thigh with one hand and mindlessly browsing a PADD with the other. There is text on the screen he doesn’t read, and pictures he glances over but doesn’t look at.

His heart jumps at an incoming message.

“Be there in 20 minutes”, Hugh writes.

Paul is frozen staring at the message pop up until it disappears. His hand stops the nervous tapping to grab the PADD from the glass table, and to write back.

“Can’t wait.”

And he really can’t. 20 minutes, still? Paul feels like he’s been waiting for weeks – and technically he has. But he’s only sat in the hotel lobby for a while, just long enough to finish a cup of coffee and go trough his presentation one more time, sloppily. Hardly a way in which he does anything, usually. He takes pride in being very particular about his work.

But not this weekend.

After an unexpected encounter on Alpha Centauri 6 weeks ago – Paul checks in his head, yes, it really has been 6 weeks since he met Hugh – they’ve only been in contact via video calls and messages. Not that it hadn’t been nice – it’s been very nice – Paul was starting to get impatient with not being close to Hugh, physically.

For a while, he had been afraid to say anything, in case Hugh felt differently. He had tried to focus on his work, only messaging Hugh once or twice a day compared to the earlier long daily conversations and calls.

He didn’t mean to get so lost in the research, but that’s just who he was. One day, he had forgotten to message Hugh completely. He had spent his entire day calculating and testing yet another idea for harnessing the potential of the spore drive. It didn’t work.

He returned to his apartment, overlooking the research station on Deneva, defeated and annoyed. He had frustratedly kicked off his shoes, thrown his jacket on the couch, rest of his clothes leaving a messy trail to the bathroom. He didn’t pay much attention to anything while showering. He’s pretty sure he had washed himself.

Stepping out of the bathroom to be met with the warm glow of the Denevian sunset, Paul sighed.

Instantly, there was a muffled vibration coming from somewhere near the entrance to his apartment.

Oh shit, Paul realized. He had not looked at his personal PADD all day.

Quickly making his way to the entrance, he tried to grab the jacket he wore today from the coat rack. It wasn’t there. He turned around, remembering throwing the jacket on the couch, only to realize the buzzing was coming from his feet.

Paul grabbed the PADD from the case on the floor, almost instinctively answered the video call, before realizing he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

Hastily, he grabbed the nearest shirt he could find, struggled while putting it on trying to simultaneously hold the PADD. He took a few steps to the couch and answered the call while flopping down on the couch.

Hugh’s face appeared on screen, his brows furrowed a bit, but his mouth turning into a faint smile at the sight of Paul.

“Hey,” Hugh greeted in a soft tone.

“Hi.”

“Where have you been?”

Paul had realized his mistake just moments before, and took a second to think of the answer, no matter how obvious it was.

“In the lab,” Paul answered sounding a little exhausted.

“Of course,” Hugh smiled. “Anything exiting?”

Paul sighed again, turning his gaze to look at the sunset taking its final breaths in the horizon.

“Not really. Another day spent with algorithms and experiments only to prove myself wrong.”

“Oh,” Hugh exhaled with an apologizing look. “That sucks.”

By now, Hugh knew better than to answer Paul’s disappointment with the previously tried encouraging facts, like “that’s part of the research. You’ll get there eventually.”

Instead, he had noticed, Paul took comfort in him just agreeing that sometimes his work was a pain in the ass.

Looking at the pale man on screen, direct sunlight hitting his face and hair, illuminating it even lighter and bouncing off his blue eyes with a beautiful glow, Hugh definitely agreed that right now, he would rather have Paul not so invested in his research. Maybe they could spend some time together, if it wasn’t for their distance and both of their demanding jobs.

Hugh sighed smiling, studying Paul’s white-appearing eyebrows, now furrowing a bit in a way that had become quite familiar to Hugh. Paul quickly turned back to face the screen.

“I don’t really want to think about it,” he huffs. “How was your day?”

“I missed you,” Hugh answers without hesitation.

Paul is taken aback by the honest statement. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you,” Paul murmurs, realizing there are at least a few notifications unread on his PADD from Hugh.

“I know. You were working.”

“Still. I could’ve at least messaged you,” Paul goes on to say, genuinely annoyed at himself for ignoring Hugh for a full day. He meant to keep his distance, but not this much.

“Yeah, you could’ve,” Hugh admits, flashing a grin that almost melts Paul.

Hugh is still in his white Starfleet uniform, although the jacket is open, revealing an undershirt with a far more giving neckline. Paul tries not to stare.

“But I had a busy day too,” Hugh continues. “I have time now.”

“Good,” Paul smiles, although he’s a tiny bit uncomfortable remembering that he isn’t wearing any pants.

“You’re home?” Paul asks an obvious question. He’s seen enough glimpses of Hugh’s quarters to recognize it.

“Well,” Hugh looks a little surprised. “I guess.”

Paul raises an eyebrow as in asking Hugh to elaborate.

“It still doesn’t feel very... homey.”

Hugh had lived in these quarters on this starbase for about six months now. He’d gotten used to it, and felt physically comfortable where he was, but he had never referenced to it as “home”. Maybe because he spent so much time on duty outside the starbase.

“I get that,” Paul answered. He in turn had lived in this apartment for almost 6 years. It was a place to sleep, eat and shower, above anything else. If there was a place he’d consider home, it would be the garden in the lab.

Both men startle slightly, as Paul’s PADD receives a message. Paul furrows his brows and purses his lips, opening the message. Hugh recognises the look from previous calls, often followed with an apologetic Paul having to head back to the lab.

Paul groans at the message in frustration. He places the PADD on the coffee table, disappearing from the screen.

“What is it?” Hugh asks while grabbing something off the screen himself. Might as well fill some reports if Paul must head back to work.

“Umm,” Paul huffs from outside the screen. “It’s Straal.” He reappears wearing grey collage pants and scuffing his damp blonde hair with a towel.

“Back to work?” Hugh asks with a tender smile.

“No... Well, not right now,” Paul answers, reading the message again. He scoffs. “He’s bailing on me for a conference next weekend.”

There’s an annoyed look on the man’s face, as he dismisses the message and leans back on the couch, defeated.

“Fucking Straal,” he hisses, just audibly for Hugh to hear. He chuckles to himself, trying to hide a smile.

“Where is it?” Hugh asks, apparently while writing some notes on another device in front of him.

“Betazed.” Ugh. That’s far.

“Really?” Hugh raises his brows and opens a new tap on his PADD with a swift touch. Betazed is closer than Deneva, that’s for sure.

“I’m so tired of having to act like an idiot at these things,” Paul starts ranting. Hugh nods, but is still flicking trough tabs on his device to look at something else.

“I don’t know anyone, or even if I did, I don’t care enough to remember them. Most people don’t actually care about the research and are there just for the show and... gossip,” Paul huffs. “Who goes to a science conference for gossip?”

Hugh glances at Paul and gives a small chuckle. He’s reminded of what often goes on during Starfleet Medical personnel seminars, after and in between the lectures...

“I know some people,” Hugh laughs. He’s dug up a file listing his work shifts, displayed in thick boxes of multiple colors for multiple sites and types of shifts. He scrolls down to next week.

“It’s obnoxious. Would be fine if it was just the presentations, but there’s always some afterparty you’re expected to attend if you’re to actually make connections and get sponsors. Escapes me how my social presence has anything to do with the research...” Paul rants on.

They’ve had this conversation before, a few weeks ago, when Paul was getting ready for another one of his trips across the galaxy to present his genius research to much less interested audiences. It was clear Paul wasn’t much of a people’s person. He was a convincing speaker, though. Hugh had been intrigued from the first moment he saw Paul give his presentation. Intense, captivating and so excited about his own work, it was hard not to be. Or so Hugh had thought. Apparently, he was in the minority.

“Why does Justin just get to inform me he’s not coming. I better be in a hospital if I were to skip one of these things."

Hugh looks at Paul on the screen, his face now more frustrated than annoyed.

“Please don’t hurt yourself for that,” Hugh kids. Although there’s a slight chance Paul actually might be that stupid, he admits.

Paul smiles back at him softly. A moment passes in silence, before Hugh continues.

“You know... I have vacation days saved up. I’ve always wanted to visit Betazed.”

________

GAHH. I have not written fanfiction in years..! Please be gentle, I know I also change the tense halfway trough, sorryyy. But also, this needs a name I guess?

[lilac-gloss]

Bad Boy

Jungkook x Reader

MASTERLIST

This is essentially a manifestation of the billions of times I’ve watched the rainism performance, so that should really set the scene for what I’m working with here. So if you like rainism Jungkook then *hopefully* you will like this so, enjoy! :)

Synopsis: Getting the opportunity to watch your friends perform is always fun but this particular performance catches you off guard and oh my do people notice. When a joke is misinterpreted will explaining yourself just expose your true feelings?

Warnings: none, tiny tiny bit of angst but fluffy for the most part!

It wasn’t often that you would get to see Jungkook perform live, with your own job and the various places he performed you weren’t in the position to make every performance. But seeing as he was performing in Korea and your timetables had aligned you were excited to be able to take this opportunity. Tonight, alongside his Hyungs, he would be performing on SBS Gayo Daejeon, you had had numerous conversations about his intense practice and excitement for the performance but you hadn’t got a chance to see it yourself. You had no doubt in your mind that it wouldn’t be amazing because this is BTS we are talking about however unbeknownst to you, you were not in the slightest prepared for what you were about to witness.

Standing behind the stage, you were watching the performance on the monitor when the lights came down ready for the performance to begin. A low beat made its way through the venue as Jungkook came out with Tae and Hobi, the green background illuminating the stage. You watched in awe as Jungkook danced incredibly whilst quoting himself as a bad boy. You knew the response would be immense from army and viewers alike as he captivated the audience. The performance was like nothing you had seen before and alongside the suggestive lyrics you saw Jungkook in a light you had never quite had the pleasure of witnessing. In your eyes kookie was a innocent boy with his bunny teeth and precious smile but you came to realise he was extremely multi faceted. Your eyes were glued to the screen for the duration barely able to blink “You certainly are a bad boy Jeon..” you muttered to yourself.

Making your way back to the green room to wait to greet the members you tried to calm yourself down, you knew you would never live it down if the boys caught wind of your irregular thoughts to the situation. It wasn’t long before the boys piled in, high on adrenaline from the performance. Jungkook immediately bound over to you engulfing you into a slightly sweaty hug “How was it?” He asked his doe eyes glittering with excitement. “You were AMAZING kook!” You responded with an energy that matched theirs, you truly couldn’t be prouder. “According to the stage technician you were very much absorbed in the performance y/n?” Namjoon questioned teasingly. You were used to their teasing ways because you never failed to acknowledge that you found them all extremely attractive but only because you all knew that your friendship was more than just based on superficial qualities. “Are you kidding me, kookie with that look calling himself a bad boy,” yn replied without missing a beat, “I’m surprised I didn’t faint on the spot!” Yn overdramatically demonstrated pretending to fall into the boy in front of her. The boys were slightly taken aback by the forward ness, they may have seen the truth in it if it hadn’t caused everyone to erupt into laughter. Seemingly out of nowhere Jungkook pushed past the boys exiting the room, looks of confusion passed between the group. You volunteered to go after him to ensure he was ok, you didn’t really know what the problem was but the look of annoyance on his face as he left signaled it wasn’t good.

Further down the corridor you noticed him leaning against the wall, a look of irritation colouring his features. “Are you ok kookie?” You question softly placing your hand on his arm. “Yeah!” He answered snappily looking away. “Well your face and body language are saying diff-“ you were cut of by Jungkooks angry interjection “Wouldn’t you be annoyed if someone was making a joke of your performance?”

Wait what?” You replied in confusion, “who made a joke of your performance?” He needn’t have answered because it finally dawned on you that he may have misinterpreted the laughs to be at his expense. You were quick to reassure him that you were just joking but he was having none of it. “So why is it so funny?” He snapped “come on y/n tell me?” You groaned in annoyance “it wasn’t funny!” He was still annoyed so you turned to a more sincere approach. “Ok it wasn’t a joke...” you exclaimed. Jungkook then began to rant about his hard work and effort for the performance to just become a joke but it was your turn to cut him off “it wasn’t a joke because i was being serious, I just played it off that way because I was in front of the boys..” you trailed off at the end realising your embarrassment as you had confessed to how the performance had truly made you feel. Breaking eye contact you look down away from the boy in front of you. “Oh well this puts a whole new spin on things,” Jungkook spoke a smug grin appeared on his face, “ so I guess this means you have a thing for bad boys...” Jungkook emphasised the last two words slowly bring his voice down into a whisper. “Pfffft, that may be true but you will never be a real bad boy kookie!” You stuttered trying to break the atmosphere that had formed around you. Changing position he turned around moving closer so you take his space against the wall he moved his hand to close you into the space. Moving his head closer to yours he whispered in your ear “ I think I can prove to us both that I’m very much a bad boy....” he then proceeded to wink as he slowly turned walking back to the green room, leaving you a blushing mess trying to comprehend what just happened.

[capricornus-rex]

Inseparable Dyad (3)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: When Cal follows his instincts to revisit Zeffo, you sense a great disturbance and urgency in the Force. A trap was set by bounty hunters who wanted either—or both—of your heads, but no one knows who has put the price.

1 | 2 | 4 | Masterlist

3 of ?

Cal wakes up to the sound of crackling electricity and hollow clanging metal. This cell looked different from the Haxion Brood’s, and he guessed that the place is much more different too. He was relieved to find BD-1 still well and with him, but he did not find you and his lightsaber with him.

“[y/n]...” he muttered your name. He ran up to the door and slammed it, raising his voice to call your name and hope for a reply.

Impatient of the silence and the absence of your voice, he yelled. “[Y/N]!!!”

“Oy, shaddup!!” a warden appeared and hit back Cal’s door with his baton.

“Where is she?!”

“She? Dunno what yer talkin’ about!”

The warden walked away, ignoring Cal’s cries to him. Cal retreated to the metal slab sticking out of the wall and sat down. Slowing down his breathing, he resorted to sitting down on the floor—in the middle of the room—and planting all ten fingers on the floor.

“[y/n]...” he whispered.

Cal hoped to get something—a pulse, a jolt, a push, something. Anything that could lead to you meant something. Anything would give him hope that you are in the same place as he is. He was speaking to the wind, but he meant his words for you, he spoke in a hush—albeit the wardens could care less if they had heard. 

“[y/n]... I will find you. You’re here, I know it. Your presence…” he suddenly trailed off.

He saw a series of images and sensations, but it appeared to be in your perspective: a long hallway with a light at the end, incoherent roaring, and cracked sandstone walls. He wondered if you were the ones sending those to his mind. It was only pure speculation—but a likely one. 

Although the images were abruptly cut off. Intuition tells him that it was you but something or someone interfered—and he’s right. You were dragged out of your cell and brought to an office chamber which you presumed to be the leader’s.

“I take it you’re the one who runs things here?” you dryly asked, tired of hearing the suckling sounds of his etiquette-less way of eating whatever’s on his plate.

“Ah, you’re as sharp as you are pretty,” the boss wagged his oil-covered finger at you while he sucks on the other.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met,”

He stood up from his seat, leaving his food, and stepped closer to you. The leader was a male Nikto—skin as orange as burnt sand, a sickly yellow pair of eyes with matching teeth to boot, and spikes that have begun to flake. Now that he was closer, you can see the wrinkles on his face, you could tell that he was either middle-aged or old.

“I am Mux Odra. Pleasure to make your acquaintance!” he presented himself flamboyantly, taking one step back to make a curtsy.

You did not respond to his introduction, you kept silent while sneering down at him.

“Come now, sweetie, and you are?”

“The person who’s going to destroy you,” you smiled, your answer tinged with sarcasm hiding malicious intent.

Mux Odra chuckled, somewhat amused by your bravery, “You seem to be very brave, aren’t you? I wonder if your price is higher compared to your ginger boyfriend because of that bravery,”

You did not flinch at the mention of his name so as to not give Mox Odra an idea of exploiting you in any way. You were able to maintain your cool while keeping your dry, indifferent tone when conversing with Mux. He returns to his seat, continuing where he left off with his meal and drink.

“Where are we? Who sent you?”

You stayed still, concentrating on his stature and voice, and casually observing portions of his office. When you have focused hard enough, you secretly tried to use the Force and find Cal using a connection. It worked earlier before you were taken out of your cell.

“Now, now, one at a time now, dear. Firstly, you are in Tonduk—a planet in the Outer Rim, away from the Empire’s reach, and where the only law is that there is no law.”

“Who sent you?” you repeated.

Much to your chagrin, Mux ignored that question, pretending that he did not hear. He stared at his goblet while gently swirling it around to mix the liquor in it.

“Okay, what are you going to do with us?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” the tone in his voice was sinister.

Mux leaned back to his chair, smirked and brought his glass to his lips to drink.

There wasn’t much time to lose, Cal needed to think of something quick if he wanted to get to you. He realizes that this was similar to the time he was held captive by Sorc Tormo, the only difference is that you were captured too; though he theorizes that this couldn’t be Sorc Tormo’s doing. He slightly remembered the face of the one who tied his hands together—they were masked, lightly armored but heavily armed with a large blaster cannon, he just couldn’t make out if it was human or another species.

The cell door suddenly opens, standing at the doorway was a male human who was clad in the same armor as your captors, except he wasn’t wearing his helmet. He was also accompanied by two other lackeys, possibly human too.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, kid, it’s a bad idea. You best come with me,” the guard coaxes Cal with his blaster and he follows.

Cal was obedient—for now. It wouldn’t be wise to pull off a Jedi mind trick on three armed guards. But what he wanted to happen to see the images that you see, just like what happened moments ago before he was brought out of the cell. He continued walking, occasionally getting shoved at the back with the barrel of the blaster when the guard was in a rush, and eventually was led out to another arena.

“Oh man, not again,” Cal groaned to himself as he shaded his eyes from the blinding light amidst the roaring crowd.

He ignored the crowd, searched the arena for the top box where the boss is expected to sit and watch in a front-row view, it didn’t take him long to find it—there was a large balcony sticking out of the wide row of bleachers.

“There he is, ladies and gentlemen! Our fabled Jedi!”

The crowd went wild, waving streamers and small flags, throwing their fists in cheer at Cal’s introduction.

“Boy oh boy, do I have a lot in store for you! Though I hope you make it to the end,”

“I think you have something of mine!” Cal called out to the balcony.

“Ah! Of course, give the pretty boy his pretty toy.”

One of the guards that escorted him tossed his lightsaber to him before vanishing into the darkness of the tunnel from which they emerged.

“ARE YOU REAAADYYY!!?”

Mux’s announcer impression got the crowd’s blood pumping, with most of the audience already standing up while throwing their fists in the air and screaming at the top of their lungs until their throats tear.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Mux chuckled, and then his expression instantaneously shifted from suave to sinister. “Let’s see if he’s really like what the bedtime stories say!”

Mux snarled and with a touch of a button, the cage doors around the arena open and release an array of small creatures.

They were too easy for Cal to deal with. Mux had only released a bunch of acid-spitting spiders like the ones in Dathomir, and then a batch of unusually large womp rats in the middle of Cal dealing with the spiders.

“Hmph, not bad, but I guess little pests like those are just too easy huh? Alrighty then, a challenge it is!”

Mux released a Slyyyg and then a swarm of Mynocks altogether. Cal pulled the swarm towards him with his Force-pull, he severed them in many parts with his graceful footwork and spinning technique. The Slyyyg spewed out its red-hot secretion towards Cal but he was quick to evade and then counterattack—he severed the slug in three parts. The crowd cheered again with animalistic vigor, they root for the blood and carnage that seems to entertain them.

“Oh come on, you’re really slacking there now. Perhaps you need a little motivation?”

Cal was quick enough to read between the lines. He sensed something in Mux’s words, Cal knows that Mux is keeping you somewhere. He can feel your presence near him but he cannot find you… yet.

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

A Night At The Opera- Chapter 2

Fandom: Queen/Borhap

Specified gender: Female

Pairing: Brian May x reader/ John Deacon x reader

TW: hypnotism, abuse??, Adam is still a dickhead.

Genre: Horror ig?? ( based on phantom Of the opera)

Series: A Night At The Opera

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

Everything was not fine. The show had gone down like a lead balloon. Another light malfunctioned, thirty minutes into the show, two strings snapped on Deaky’s bass, one of the skins on Roger’s drum tore, Freddie tripped over a stray wire twice, and Adam’s playing made almost everyone in the crowd flinch at least once. And because of all that, Roger had trashed his drum set, jostling it over on stage, storming past (Y/N) as she offered him water. The three other men exited, tails between their legs. Deaky and Freddie never spoke a word but they were furious, judging by their hunched shoulders and furrowed brows. Adam, on the other hand, made his anger very transparent. And he was very obvious about who he was blaming the entire thing on; (Y/N). As soon as the crowd began filtering out of their seats of the previous opera house, he ambushed the techie, pointing a finger with a look of murder on his face.

“It was you! I just know it! You’ve always hated my guts and now you’re going out of your way to ruin the show. You’ve always been jealous of my talent!” Adam approached her, getting closer and closer and closer until (Y/N) was crushed against the wall.

“Adam, just calm down, please. I swear, I’d never do anything to sabotage you and the guys,” (Y/N) replied, anxiety biting her voice at being pushed back into such a tight space. But just when she thought she’d disintegrate into tears, Roger seemed to come to her rescue, blonde locks stuck to his sweaty face.

“Oi, Adam, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Roger snapped, already agitated enough from the disaster of a show. Adam held his scowl for a few seconds before backing up, removing his arm from the wall beside (Y/N) and stamping off, shoulder checking Roger on his way out. Roger narrowed his eyes at the doorway that Adam had just gone through, looking back to the shaking girl stood in front of him. His hands gently gripped her arms before trailing up to her face, checking for any injuries, or bruises “Are you alright, love? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, no, I-I’m okay. Thanks, Rog, Adam’s just a little… on edge, I guess,” (Y/N) shook her head slightly, but didn’t say much else, gently, delivering the bottle of water she was still holding into Roger’s hand.

“I’m going to get Deaky, alright? You just stay here, love,” Instantly, the drummer ran off, leaving her isolated by the side stage. Carefully, she peeked around the curtain to see how many people were left in the audience. There were still a few people littering the crowd, but they were slowly making their way out. However, as she looked up to some of the boxes at the side of the audience, she noticed a figure, concealed in the darkness of box five. A figure that was chillingly familiar, with curly hair and a surgical mask on his mouth. (Y/N) blinked hard. She’d sworn she’d been delusional when she’d seent that figure earlier in the day. But yet, there he was. Though, before she could look further into the figure, he slunk back, further into the darkness, and was gone within the blink of an eye.

“(Y/N)?” Deaky ‘s voice made the techie turn around quickly, and the sight of her boyfriend made her grin. He was tense, irritated from the show, but still ran towards her and span her around, making both of them giggle.

“Say you love me,” (Y/N) murmured when he placed her down, their foreheads pressed together. Deaky only laughed, placing a kiss to her lips tenderly.

“You know I do,” He said, taking both her hands in his and bringing them up to his lips. Soft fingers moved to cup her face, teasingly smushing her cheeks together, laughter erupting from the two. However, that was soon interrupted by Freddie, turning the corner.

“Sorry to barge in, my darlings, but (Y/N) could you examine everything again in the morning? Things need to be perfect tomorrow since a lot of things went wrong tonight. I know it’s not your fault though, dear,”  Freddie requested, smiling softly at how close his two friends were, and how happy they were together. Adam followed behind him quickly, in hopes that he had come to fire the girl.

“No, of course, Fred, I’ll arrive here earlier tomorrow and fix things, no worries,” (Y/N) stated, a kind grin crossing her face, although Adam had reappeared, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Why not stay late tonight? I think she should fix HER mistakes as soon as possible,” Adam interjected but even though the statement was meant to upset her, she only took in the possibility. I mean, she could get a few hours of extra sleep tomorrow if she did it tonight. Besides she could just walk home, it wasn’t that far.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Adam. She wouldn’t have anyone to take her home!” Deaky argued but (Y/N) only put a  hand on his arm, shaking her head lightly.

“No, it sounds like a good idea. I won’t have to get up early tomorrow if I do it after you guys go home. And I can walk home, it isn’t that far. The only reason we were in the van is because of equipment. I’ll manage,” (Y/N) said, watching as a frown formed on Adam’s face at the lack of reaction.

“Are you sure, darling? One of us can stay with you?” Freddie offered but she shook her head again, taking one of Freddie’s hands and one of Deaky’s, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll all be okay, stop worrying.”

(Y/N) was sat in Deaky’s dressing room, tightening the new strings she’d just put on, replacing the ones that had broken earlier. It was the last thing she had to do before she could go home, making it nearly one in the morning, four hours since the boys had left and gone. Even Lucille had given her a key to lock up just after eleven and taking her to leave. But despite being alone in the opera house, she didn’t feel like she was. And she wasn’t sure whether to find it comforting or terrifying. Her fingers were starting to callous and felt extremely tender whenever she touched anything. A sigh escaped her lips when she finally finished sorting Deaky’s bass, placing it back in its case to bring back to him when she went home. (Y/N) was about to start packing up when she heard light humming, so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, and the soft strumming of a guitar. Her head whizzed around, glancing around the room for the sound, seeing nothing. Shrugging it off, she began placing anything she needed back into her bag, pushing it onto her shoulder and picking up the case holding Deaky’s bass. She winced as she pressed the light of the dressing room off. That ghostly strumming returned, this time, coming from the stage, so hesitantly, she followed the sound. (Y/N) near froze when she saw that man again, masked face hidden by his mass of hair, a gorgeous brown acoustic guitar held in his hands, playing a melody foreign to her, but captivating nonetheless.

“E-Excuse me, sir, the theatre’s about to close, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, please,” (Y/N) piped up nervously. Why was she nervous around him? Well, maybe it was because he had tried leading her somewhere earlier. Of course, that was the reason. Why was she asking herself so many stupid questions? The mysterious stranger’s strumming came to an abrupt stop.

“I believe that we’ve yet to be suitably introduced,” He stated, giving her the first sound of his voice. It was smooth and soft. Gentle. Kind. But he had yet to turn to face her properly, still hidden behind his bush-like hair.

"I guess not," (Y/N) replied, taking a few steps back when the stranger stood up, slinging the strap of his guitar over his body so the guitar was against his back. A glint appeared in his eyes at her trepidation, but he hid it with what looked like a smile, though it was hard to tell behind his cover.

"Well, in that case, please forgive the absence of my manners. My name is Brian, I run this here opera house. Though I suppose it's now a theatre for performers, such as yourself," The newly introduced Brian took a few certain steps forward and clutched the girl's hand and brought it to his masked lips. Through the mask, she swore she could feel something sharp. It was probably her imagination. She let out a small, partly embarrassed laugh.

"I'm (Y/N). But you could hardly call me a performer. I'm just a roadie," (Y/N) brushed off instantly, her eyes flicking back up to Brian with a strange uncertainty.

" You're not adequate right now, but no one ever is. I promise you, by the time you've studied with me, you can take that retched boy’s position. His place is not in the arts," Brian voiced bitterly, his eyes narrowing a little. There was something predatory hidden deep within those hazel eyes, being brought further into the light the more they conversed. But instead of replying, she simply watched him as a sudden sense of awe and calmness washed over her body. The rest of the blackened theatre faded away. It was just her and Brian. Everything in the girl's body yelled and kicked at her to get away from him. That there was something wrong with him. He was dangerous. Yet, (Y/N) couldn't tear her eyes away, transfixed. All her thoughts contracted into white noise.  Brian's red eyes squinted as if he was smiling once again at her lost state of mind. Wait, red? His eyes hadn't been red before. She was sure of it. A human couldn't even have red eyes.

"Are you alright, (Y/N)? You look exhausted," Brian seemed concerned except (Y/N) could scarcely hear him. He sounded so distant like she was submerged beneath the sea. Hence, she couldn't hear the joyous lilt in his voice. And she didn't notice the way his eyes lit up as she began swooning and stumbling, as her eyes grew heavier and heavier. With a quiet groan, (Y/N)'s eyes finally drooped shut and she collapsed, straight into Brian's arms. Slowly, Brian inched his arms under the girl's knees and pulled her close to his chest.

A quiet melody snailed its way into (Y/N)'s ears, effectively stirring her from her slumber. Her brain was pounding behind her eyes, but the faint piano soothed the pain that resonated in her head. What had happened to her? She could remember meeting that stranger. Introducing himself. His name. What was his name again? Brian. That was it. He was talking to her about her guitar? Everything was a bit hazy from that point forward. Where even was she? (Y/N) sat up, pushing back the silk red covers from the coffin-shaped bed. There was a sheer black curtain blocking her off from the rest of the domain, and she could just about make out the shape of unruly curls sat in front of a grand piano. Cautiously, (Y/N) ducked under the curtain, now stood in what seemed to be a cave of all places.

The walls were jagged and sharp, dripping with water every so often, and the entirety of, what appeared to be, Brian's home led slightly downhill to a pool of water, seeping through a metal gate. Amid this lake, there was a boat, connected to the rest of the home by a single piece of rope. The next thing she noticed, that was certainly peculiar by her standards, was that there were candles everywhere she turned, although, she doubted he could get any electricity down here if she certainly was beneath the theatre. There were many large items covered in materials and curtains and she could only assume they were mirrors, based on their shape and height. 

Besides the piano that Brian was seated at, was a black desk, holding a remake of the theatre. There were many waxwork figures scattered around the table, none of whom she recognised, but on the stage of the theatre, there were tiny figures of her friends. Freddie stood front and centre, his microphone clutched tightly in his waxen hands. Roger sat behind his drum kit, except this kit had Queen's logo on the bass drum. Her eyes squinted. No one had seen the new band logo except for the band and herself. How could he possibly have known? Deaky stood, partially hidden behind Freddie. (Y/N) smiled. Her Deaky.  But that smile faded when she searched for Adam, only to find nothing. Nothing but her. In her hands there was a gorgeous red guitar, glinting in the light. And even though it was just a fake figurine, she couldn't stop her self from admiring the instrument. Nevertheless, (Y/n) had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the piano halt to silence. Brian hadn't looked at her yet, just staring down at the black and white keys. Reluctantly, she started to make her way towards Brian, eyeing him guardedly in case he made any unforeseen movements. When he stayed frozen to his seat, she allowed herself to get friendlier, not stopping until she was behind him. Despite her better judgement, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his shoulders, beaming lightly as he sank into her embrace.

When Brian had taken the girl, he had no intention of bringing her back to his home. She was to become his next prey. His next meal. But when he had leant down to sink his teeth into her flesh, he discovered himself incapable of committing the dastardly act. He felt too enamoured with her. How strange. That was a first. So with no other option, he carried her down to his residence. Hypnotism was always tiring for the victim, not that many have stuck around after they'd been hypnotised.

(Y/N)'s hand cupped his face lightly and Brian was so subdued to the pleasure of physical contact that he failed to notice her fingers inching towards the back of his mask until it was too late. His hand darted to his lips, hiding the abhorrent things that lay beneath them, and he shot from his seat. But he knew she'd seen them. His mouth was open after all. Without thinking, he shoved her off of him as he stood so she dropped to the ground, terror in her eyes as he stamped forward.

"Damn you! You little prying Pandora!" Brian screamed though it was a little muffled behind his hand. The tall man stormed over to one of the covered mirrors, tearing the fabric off and removing his hand from his face for a split second as he said: "Is this what you wanted to see?!"His fury was beyond explosive, and extremely frightening to whoever surrounded him at the time.

Brian's hand returned to its place on his mouth as he kept screaming things along the lines of "Damn you! Curse you!". Despite his rage, it took a surprisingly short amount of time for him to calm down, seeing his beloved's fear.

"How can you dare to look at me?" He questioned, walking over and taking a position on the floor, a few steps away from her. But no words came from her mouth. Only startled eyes stared up at him, wide and unmoving as if she was trying to calculate his next move. A sigh tore free of Brian's mouth yet his eyes softened as he saw her reaching across to him, his mask in hand, offering it back to him. Appreciatively, brian took the mask from her hand and turned his face away as he fixed it back over of his mouth. When it was firmly black on his lips, he looked back to the girl, noting that she had gotten slightly closer. What she'd seen beneath that mask would haunt her, but she tried to play it off as fake, although deep down that it wasn't. It was just a costume accessory. Of course, it was.

"Teach me to play the guitar. The way you did on the empty stage last night,"(Y/N) begged, though not quite sure where it had come from. He'd just pushed her to the floor and screamed in her face, taken her from the safety of the theatre to his home. Why would he agree? She'd pulled his mask off. Betrayed the little trust that had formed in the minimal time they'd spent together.  Brian gazed at her, his breath hitching in his throat as he took the time to look at her properly. Hair messy from sleep, her eyes glowing in the candlelight. A scratch on her face from the uneven floor. He'd never taught anyone to play the guitar. No one ever wanted to stay long enough, especially once they'd seen what was beneath his surgical mask. However, this beautiful girl, who'd captivated him as more than a meal, was asking him to teach her. After he'd hurt her. After he'd scared. After she'd betrayed him. Brian should've killed her for pulling off his mask without his permition, but if he couldn't kill her earlier, how would he be able to now. He took one look into (Y/N)'s big (E/C) eyes, staring up at him in awe, and he knew exactly what his answer was, despite a part of him telling him that it was a bad idea. (Y/N) tilted her head when she noticed the internal battle he was having about her question. It was calming to know that she wasn't the only one. Why did she trust him so? What even was the time? Deaky would be missing her. So would Freddie. Oh god, they had to be worried sick. She needed to get back to them. But one look at Brian and that thought was erased from her mind.

"Alright. I will teach you about my music. But you must never, ever, touch my mask ever again. Am I understood?"

"Absolutely."

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @queendeakyy @scarlettequinn

Tags:  @writingfortoomanyfandoms @metaphorical-love-for-a-car@queens-n-roses @freaky-dcaky@yourealegendfred@fierce-bab@dusthas-beenbitten   @bensroger@strangeandwonderfulconcepts@babebenhardy@benhardyjones @silvver-rose @psychosupernatural

[mythiica]

Myth congrats on all of your new followers!! ❤️❤️❤️ May I get a Modern!AU slow burn fic ending in fluff for either Ieyasu, Mitsuhide, or Shingen? Tbh, I'm having a hard time choosing who, please choose whichever one inspires you! I trust your decision hehe 😊

Title: Modern AU! Slow Burn

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Ieyasu Tokugawa, Mitsuhide Akechi, Shingen Takeda

Genre: mini fics

Warnings: none

Intended Gender Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: each is about 700 words x 3 = 2100 words

POV: second person w/ (Y/n)

Other comments: im insane so im doing them all as mini scenarios; i decided to use the official art of what jobs they would have in an AU setting, hope you like!- 

Ieyasu - Animal Kisses

“Hold her, will you?”

          You do as you are told, allowing Ieyasu to wrap the fawn’s leg with a bandage. It squirms in your grip, but you keep the animal in place the best you can. Once he smooths down the edge of the wrap, Ieyasu gives you a short nod, letting you know he has finished. The fawn stands up and takes a few steps with her newly bandaged leg before licking Ieyasu’s cheeks.

         He stands there, rather unamused, but accepts the creature’s kisses without saying anything. The deer also nuzzles its head against Ieyasu, but then he promptly picks her up to return her to the enclosure.

         “Aww! She likes you~” you tease as you follow behind him. “Thank you for helping her. I was really worried when I saw the blood this morning. I thought that something had broken into the conservatory, but she just fell over a broken branch.”

         “Don’t thank me. It’s my job.”

         “Still though… all the animals here like you. You have a special connection with them.”

         Ieyasu presses the button for the intercom. “Can someone come get Twyla? She’s ready to go back. Make sure she gets antibiotics in her food for the next six meals. If she comes back looking worse, I’m blaming you lot.”

         Your pager pings, so you pull it from your pocket. “Oh…” you mumble dejectedly.

         “Something wrong?”

         “No…” you reply, “I have to go to the other side of the facility to help one of the bush babies. It seems like one of them got stuck in a tree hole and is a bit too pudgy to get out.”

         Ieyasu chuckles slightly at this. “They have been putting on more weight than usual. Perhaps they are trying to bulk up for mating season?”

         Of course he has a reasonable answer for this. Ieyasu always knows everything about every animal in the rescue center. He also is always so kind to any creature that comes into his room.

         “I’ll see you around, then,” you say with a wave. “Bush babies to save...” You bite your lip and fumble with your fingers. An awkward silence passes between the two of you before you escape from the lab.

         Ieyasu lingers in his spot, leaning against the metal table, and thinks for a moment. He brushes off the notion and turns around to tend to some files for incoming animals.

         An hour later, a knock at the door coaxes him from his work. “You again?”

         You laugh. “This time, I am the patient.”

         He raises an eyebrow, to which you raise your finger and show him the smallest trickle of blood going down your finger. “Mating season indeed. The male attacked me when he heard the female squeal as I tried to remove her.”

         “That stupid saucer-eyed cotton ball,” he curses. “Come here.”

         Your heels click against the tiled floor as you walk over, and Ieyasu grabs your hand to inspect the puncture wound. “I washed it before coming here, but I didn’t know where we keep the medical supplies that are… well… for humans. I guess I’m too new here!”

         Ieyasu rips open a small alcoholic wipe and cleans your finger before applying a bit of cream to it and wrapping a band aid around it.

         “What’s my prognosis?”

         “You’ll live,” he replies. “Just make sure you wash it when you get home and keep it covered while you work.”

         “Thank you, Dr. Tokugawa.”

         “Don’t call me that. It makes me sound old.”

         You cover your mouth and laugh. Placing your hands back in your lap, you look around at his lab to avoid sparking up further conversation. But the, Ieyasu clears his throat, and you immediately worry that you intruded on something.

         “Oh! Sorry. I should… be getting to lunch. Thank you again.”

         This time, when you turn to leave, Ieyasu is not so quick to let you leave.  “Would you like to stay here and eat?”

         “I thought we were not allowed to bring food into the labs.”

         Ieyasu points at the tables. “I sanitize these at least forty times an hour. My floors are cleaner than the cafeteria tables.”

         You can’t hold your smile back and nod your head enthusiastically.

Mitsuhide Akechi - Late Nights at the Precinct

You turn the lights out and close your office door behind you. The lock clicks shut, and you begin to walk to the front doors to leave the precinct. With your hands on the door bars, you catch a glimspe of Mitsuhide in his own office. He is hunched over his desk, reviewing papers for a recent case he took on.

          Up to now, you have only heard whispers of the famous Mitsuhide Akechi –  he was a legend in Japan for solving the most difficult of cases. People said that it took him three days to find an illusive serial killer that had evaded the police for nearly a year. You wonder if he is really as ruthless as they say. Not only was he extremely good at his job, but people claimed that he had more connections to mafias and gangs than anyone in the country. This earned him the nickname ‘kitsune’, as he could shape shift to fit his needs for the case.

         You knock on his open door and lean against the doorframe. “Burning the midnight oil?” you inquire, trying to sound cool.

         He looks up, his golden eyes seemingly piercing through you. Mitsuhide takes his glasses off and leans back in his chair. His hand shifts, moving the case file over the papers so that you cannot see them. Of course he is guarded. He transferred to the Tokyo division only recently.

         “Is it really that late? I hadn’t noticed.” Mitsuhide proceeds to stand up and stretch before sauntering over to you. “And what is a little mouse as yourself doing here at a time like this?”

         “I had to finish a report for a case I just closed.”

         “Oh?”

         “Kidnapping,” you explain.

         Mitsuhide’s eyes shine. “I don’t think we’ve properly met, Detective…?”

         “(Y/n) (L/n).”

         “Ah, of course. You helped with the Yandere Killings last year, didn’t you?” Mitushide refers to a string of murders that happened over the course of a week early last spring. They were strangely consistent with murders that happen in the game Yandere Simulator, hence the name ‘Yandere Killings’ was coined for the case.

         “Yes, but I didn’t do as much as you did, Detective Akechi. After all, you caught the person who was doing it.”

         Mitsuhide smiles, accepting your praise happily.

         “Sorry to bother you, I just saw your light and…” you trail off, not really knowing how to explain why you stopped by.

         “It’s no problem.”

         Indeed, Mitsuhide was keeping his answers short as to avoid complicating the conversation further. You wonder if he ever let anyone in. Shaking the thought from your mind, you bow your head. “Best of luck on the case you are working on now. I will take my leave now. Goodnight, Detective Akechi.”

         “Goodnight, little mouse.” He stays in his spot as you leave, only moving from the doorframe until after you have exited the building.

         The next morning, when you enter the precinct, you can see Mitsuhide sitting in your chair from the main hall. “Hello Detective Akechi. What brings you here?”

         He brings his feet down from your desk and looks at you. “I came to ask you a question.”

         “Okay. Shoot.”

         Mitsuhide clicks his tongue. “Do you suppose it is possible that the murders from the Back alley case were moved there?”

         You tap your finger against your chin, pondering this idea. “I haven’t reviewed the case file in detail, but there wasn’t any evidence that they had been killed on the spot, right?”

         He nods. “Smart mouse.” Mitsuhide seems to really like this nickname. “Does that not make it kidnapping, technically?”

         “Well…” you think back to your years of training, “Not always. Kidnappers are not always motivated by a murderous intent. Unless the victims were held captive and then killed, I don’t know that… wait…” Something seems off. Why is he asking you this? Mitsuhide is smart enough to know the answer himself. He could just as easily look it up. Why bother to com ask you directly?

         Mitsuhide tips his head and looks at you as if he is analyzing you.

         “Are you asking me to work this case with you?”

         The corners of his mouth curl upwards into a sly smile. “How perceptive.”

         You laugh. “You could have asked me or put in a request with–”

         He stands up and pats your head, ruffling up your hair. “Yes. I could have. But I wanted to test you. And you passed, little mouse. Congratulations and welcome to the homicide division.”

Shingen - Etude in G# minor, Op.25; No.6

He plays with the grace of a swan gliding through crystal clear water. His fingers glide across the keys, creating beautiful harmonies that echo throughout the concert hall. The rest of the symphony has stopped playing, allowing him to continue with a piano solo.

          You find it strange – you have heard this particular piece, Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No.2, but the way Shingen Takeda plays it… he transforms the piece and brings the audience along for a mystical ride along with him. You would not be surprised if there were people moved to tears. In fact, when you inhale, your chest rattles with a surpassed cry.

         Shingen ends the song, keeping his finger held down on the key for a bit longer than was supposed to, but no one notices because the hall erupts into applause. You have been attending concerts for many years, but this is the first time that people throw roses onto the stage.

         He picks one up, and when he smells it, his gaze locks with yours. You are not too far in the back, and nor are you very close to the front, so this catches you off guard. Your stomach does flips in your abdomen when he winks. If Shingen Takeda was anything in addition to one of the best pianists in the world, he was the biggest flirt in the world as well.

         The concert dismisses, and crowds run to the exits in an attempt to catch him before he leaves. When you enter the main hall, you hear screams from behind you. A mob of young women runs straight for you, but before they make impact, a strong hand wraps around your waist and pulls you out of the way.

         When you look up, you nearly lose your breath – Shingen smiles at you with that charming smile of his. It melts your bones and steals any words you could have said in the moment.

         “Careful there,” he purrs, dipping his head closer to you, “an angel like you should watch her step.”

         Your heart thunders in your chest, and you pull to get away. The crowd of girls has circled around you, trying to get a piece of the action. Shingen pays them little attention, and actually seems saddened that you have moved away from him. “You played beautifully tonight, Mr. Takeda.”

         “Hearing that, from you, is a gift in itself.” The women all swoon simultaneously, but Shingen tips his head slightly when you do not fall for the same sweet talk.

         “Thank you,” you say quickly before escaping the crowd.

         The next day, you return to reality and your job as a hostess at a high-end restaurant. You arrive a bit earlier than usual so you can help set up the tables for dinner. The restaurant sits on the top of a skyscraper-hotel. As soon as you come out of the elevator, you nearly drop your phone because you see Shingen Takeda sitting at the piano in the middle of the dining hall.

         He plays as beautifully as he did last night, putting you in a trance that nearly makes you miss getting out of the elevator. Skittering out from the elevator, you try to find one of your coworkers and ask them to explain why Shingen is there.

         “Oh, the boss asked him to make an appearance tonight and play for the guests. Did you not get my text?”

         You look down and realize that you have gotten a message from her, but you were busy ogling Shingen to notice. Inhaling, you shake the nerves off and collect some table cloths to go cover the tables. Deep down, you pray that he doesn’t notice you, but when you hear him whistle, you know you’ve been found.

         He waves at you, and you know that he won’t stop until you visit him. “Hello again,” he greets, “it must be fate that allows me to see you again today, my angel.”

         “I’m not your angel. I work here.”

         Shingen runs his hand through his hair. “Tonight, I will play whatever song you wish. Tell me, what do you desire?”

         Rolling your eyes, you smirk. “Chopin's “Etude in G# minor, Op.25; No.6.” It was one of the most difficult pieces you knew, so you threw it at Shingen in an attempt to deter him.

         Instead of being discouraged, he smirks and nods. “A fine choice. I will make you proud, my goddess.”

         You pause. “Uh.. angel… is better than goddess.” A blush spreads across your cheeks as you say this, but it only makes Shingen laugh.

         When guests begin to arrive, Shingen finally starts to play the song you asked for. As he plays the first few notes, you stop and turn to look at him. The spotlight is focused directly above him, catching everyone’s attention. Your heart shatters as the minor undertones take over because he is that good.

         Snapping back into reality, you take a group to their table. On the way back to the front, you stop by the piano and place a flower on the music stand. He smiles at you, but continues to play.

         The music wraps around you, enveloping you in the strong emotion he pours into the piece. Of course he does. He is Shingen Takeda after all – the world’s best flirter and pianist.

[haledamage]

“I like the way your hand fits in mine.” and “I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.” for Kira and a Unit Bravo guy of your choice(can both be the same or different ones, up to you)

(these prompts ended up very long and also very different :) I chose Kira/Nate for the first one, it’s sappy and fluffy and kinda spicy because that’s what they’re best at)

Kira felt when someone entered the room behind her, but she didn’t look up from idly plucking the strings of her guitar. She didn’t quite know what she was playing, a piece of some song she’d heard on the radio that had lodged itself in her head a few days ago. She hummed the melody, though she didn’t remember the words.

She smiled at Nate as he sat down in one of the chairs across from her and waited for him to say something, but he just stayed quiet, watching her play. She fought down the urge to stop, to put the guitar away and hide somewhere until he forgot this ever happened. It was an old fear, deeply ingrained and hard to ignore, but… well, this was Nate. She’d seen his music room, such as it was, had watched him play the piano, the violin, the cello, the fucking harp, always looking elegant and timeless and beautiful. It wouldn’t be so bad to show him the same vulnerability.

Besides, if she didn’t want an audience she shouldn’t be playing in the warehouse living room.

He watched in silence for a long time as she abandoned the half-heard tune and headed toward more familiar ones. She sang quietly, barely louder than the gentle drone of the guitar, but she knew he could hear her just fine, vampire hypersenses being what they were. His gaze was like a physical weight, following the way her fingers curled around the neck of the guitar; the gentle spirals of the tattoo on her bicep, visible for once in the t-shirt she wore; the way her hair fell in her face as she leaned over the body of the guitar; the simple, black pick she held between her lips as she adjusted the tuning. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks at the intensity of his stare.

“Do you have any requests?” She asked, desperate to fill the silence before it got awkward.

Nate didn’t answer her question, instead moving to sit next to her on the sofa and asking a question of his own. “How long have you been playing?”

“Seven years. I picked it up while I was at university. I needed some elective credits and didn’t want to take art.” Kira’s fingers kept moving automatically along the strings, but she was no longer paying attention to what she played. Her attention was fully on the man next to her as he moved closer, close enough that his knee pressed to hers.

“You’re very talented,” he said softly. The tone he used made it sound like a much larger compliment than his words alone would indicate.

“I don’t know about that,” Kira said plainly, “but I enjoy it.” 

“Can you show me?” he asked, and the music stopped mid-chord as she studied him curiously.

“You already know how to play guitar.” She didn’t know that for sure, but it felt right. There wasn’t anything Nate didn’t know how to do unless it required an internet connection.

“Not like you do.”

She wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that. There were only a few other ways to play guitar she could think of, but she didn’t have her slide bar or lap steel guitar here, just her battered old acoustic. “You want me to show you how to play something?”

“Yes.” He smiled at her, warm and sweet. “What’s your favorite song?”

“What’s your favorite book?” she countered with a grin. They’d had that conversation before. Picking a favorite song or book was like picking a favorite star; some things are better in multitudes.

“Touche.”

Even though they hadn’t picked a song, his arm still slipped around her shoulders so he could cover her hand with his on the neck of the guitar.

She had no idea what song they played. It sounded familiar, something that came to her automatically, that she didn’t need to concentrate on to remember. Her attention was captivated entirely by Nate, his chest against her back and his breath in her ear, and his hands in hers. His long, elegant fingers following her direction without hesitation, travelling through a series of chords that she would never be able to remember after they left this room.

The music died off before too long, but they didn’t move yet. She wanted to say something, anything to ease the tension in the air. Mostly, she wanted to turn around and kiss him senseless. He preferred they keep things like that private instead of making out in the middle of the living room where anyone could walk in on them. She wondered if he’d be willing to make an exception just this once.

“I like the way your hands fit in mine,” Nate said suddenly, quietly, as he laced their fingers together. His hands dwarfed hers, almost completely enveloping them, but he was right; it felt like they were made to fit together.

“That is really fucking cheesy,” Kira replied automatically. She laughed at the sour twist to his lips when she said that. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and another to the corner of his mouth to bring his smile back, feeling her face go red again. “It’s okay. I like cheesy. Apparently.”

He chuckled. “You don’t sound happy about that.”

“I’m not unhappy about that. It’s just… unexpected. You’re unexpected.” It sounded stupid to say it like that, but his smile widened as if she’d said something profound and poetic.

“So are you.” That intensity was back in his eyes, dark brown even darker with unspoken promise, and he carefully took the guitar from her arms and set it aside where it couldn’t be in the way.

(the other one is under the cut so I don’t overwhelm anyone’s dash. Vague spoilers for the end of Wayhaven Chronicles, more specific spoilers for one particular dialogue choice option from Adam’s route. Kira/Adam angst and Kira&Felix platonic cuddling ;) )

“It has to be me,” Kira said, fighting not to raise her voice and failing. “I’m immune, but you aren’t. If you come with me, you’ll get hurt. Or worse.”

Adam remained unmoved. “I cannot let you go alone. It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care about that! I only care about–” she stopped abruptly as she realized what she was saying. Her words brought a memory rising unbidden from the depths of her mind. 

Herself, bleeding out in a dingy warehouse. Adam kneeling over her, more emotion on his face than she’d ever seen before or since, his hand on her cheek, gentle but desperate. Her voice, broken and far away: don’t worry, everything will be okay; his, full of fear and worry: I don’t care about everything! I only care about y–

She’d thought it was a dream, blood loss addling her mind, filling the gaps in her memory with silly fantasies. The dawning horror on Adam’s face told the truth of it.

Their argument evaporated, leaving them both without its safe familiarity. 

Kira finished the declaration that he hadn’t been able to all those months ago. “I only care about you.”

He flinched like she’d hit him. He wouldn’t look at her, jaw clenched and shoulders tense as he fought to maintain his stoic mask. She took a step closer, and he moved a step back. “You shouldn’t,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s up to you, Adam. I’m not sure it’s up to either of us.” She put a hand on his arm; he was so tense it felt like touching stone, like the man in front of her was carved from marble. Softly, she said, “You must know. I haven’t made any effort to hide it, really. That I’m-I’m in–”

“Don’t say it,” he said desperately. “Please.”

“Adam…”

He moved all at once, pushing past her and walking toward the door as fast as he could without literally running away from her. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood to keep from calling after him, but the words still played in her head. Why are you so scared to let me love you?

He didn’t look back as he pushed through the door and disappeared, almost knocking it off its hinges with the force of his exit. Kira collapsed onto a nearby sofa and put her head in her hands. “God damn it.”

She didn’t know how long she sat there like that, helpless and frustrated and cursing under her breath, but she eventually became aware of a presence nearby. She wasn’t surprised when she looked up to find Felix sitting silently on the sofa next to her, expression uncharacteristically serious. As soon as he saw her look his way he said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Kira said, but with a sigh, she took the shoulder he offered, pressing her face into it while he curled an arm around her. Her voice was muffled in the scarf he wore. “Why do I keep putting myself through this?”

“People do stupid things when they’re in love.”

She wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t. She wanted to say something harsh and snarky about Adam and his stubborn reticence, but she couldn’t do that either. Eventually, she said, “I just wanted to say ‘I love you’ for the first time without stuttering, but I guess that failed.”

“Did it? Looks to me like he didn’t actually let you say it.” Felix gave her arm a tug and she let him pull her down to lay on the sofa. They were both small enough that they could fit comfortably, tangled around each other like a half-human, half-vampire octopus.

“How long were you watching us?” She suspected she already knew the answer.

“Long enough,” Felix confirmed.

Kira felt like she should be annoyed at his meddling and eavesdropping, but she knew there was no malice behind it. He just wanted both her and Adam to be happy, even if he had to prod them until they gave in. “What do I do?”

“Be patient. He’ll come around.” He dug his chin into the top of her head in a decidedly brotherly manner. She poked him in the side to get him to stop. “You know he loves you too.”

She sighed. “I know. I wouldn’t keep putting myself through this shit otherwise.”

“I could lock you both in a closet or something,” he suggested cheerfully. “Somewhere he can’t run away.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Tempting. He might be more willing to start a fight so we kill each other instead of admitting anything that resembles feelings, though.” She wrapped her arms around him in a grateful hug. “Thank you, Felix.”

Felix shrugged, jostling her around as he did. “What are best friends for?”

Kira laughed. “Are we best friends now? Does Mason know you’ve replaced him with me?”

That finally elicited a familiar grin from him. “Don’t worry, Kira, there’s enough of me to go around.” The smile faded again, too quickly. “Are you okay?”

“Not yet. But I will be.” She struggled her way back to a sitting position before she ended up devoured by the couch. “Do you want to watch a movie or something? I need to not think for a little while.”

[sassyshoulderangel319]

Karaoke Date

So my last two MLQC one-shots went from really long to fairly short and this one is solidly in the middle. I recently had a lot of professional musicians tell me I have a good singing voice so this just felt like a lot of fun.

I was sitting in my office when my phone rang. Glancing at the Caller ID and contact photo, Kiro’s smiling face and bright eyes were looking back at me. I picked it up. “Hey Kiro,” I greeted.

“Miss Chips!” Kiro replied happily, like he didn’t think I would answer. I chuckled.

“What can I help you with?”

“I came up with a brilliant idea! Hear me out,” he said dramatically. “You and me: karaoke!”

I blinked. “Uh… Kiro?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a superstar. Why would you even think that’s a good idea? You get mobbed stepping out your front door. Putting you on a stage in some bar under a bright spotlight and singing a song—even if it’s not one of yours—would be the biggest security risk I can think of. Your agent would kill me if I let you—”

“But that’s the thing! There’s this new karaoke place in town where you’re in individual rooms but your microphone is projected into all the other ones. You can lock the door and sing completely anonymously. I could go in there and sing someone else’s song and no one would know it’s me!”

“I’m pretty sure everyone would know it’s you because they can, y’know, recognize your voice… but I guess you have a point.”

“So you’ll go with me?”

“Sure.”

“Great! I’m gonna come pick you up from work tonight if that’s okay!”

I smiled. “That’s just fine. I’ll be waiting for you.” If that wasn’t the motivation I needed to get everything done in the set work schedule today rather than going overtime, I wasn’t sure what was.

“Why are you smiling, bossman?” Kiki asked.

“A friend is picking me up for karaoke after work,” I said. I purposely left Kiro’s name out of the conversation because I knew Kiki wanted me to date him and I didn’t want her to have a full-scale squeal-fest in the middle of the office when it was this early in the morning.

“Oh have fun!” Kiki said.

“I will. Definitely.”

*****

“Good evening, Miss Chips. Your chariot awaits,” Kiro said, opening the car door for me. It was a nice car—not as expensive as Victor’s but still a piece of art on wheels. He had on a hat and hipster glasses, covering his blond hair and bright eyes, as well as baggy, dark clothes. His jewelry was still the same but I’d only ever seen him without his earrings once or twice, and never without his ring. Not even at the summit. How that hadn’t given him away, I’d never figured that out. Maybe the people at the summit weren’t looking for his telltale styles.

“Hi, Ki—” I greeted, cutting myself off from saying his name. I ducked into his car. “What should I call you tonight?”

He shut the car door once he made sure I was safely in and jogged around the hood to the driver’s side. He slid in himself, so fast he nearly knocked his hat off. He gave me a dazzling smile. “I think tonight I should be… Lee. Just Lee.”

I smiled. “Okay. Lee. How was your day?”

“Long and exhausting, but I’m all better for seeing you.”

What an absolute sweetheart. “Aw. Thanks. I’m better for seeing you too.”

He beamed at me and we drove off. The radio was playing classical music, strings and winds running around each other, competing for dominance and then blending together in a perfect choir.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Kiro said.

“I’m just… listening to the music. I figured you were more of a pop radio guy.”

He snorted. “Just because I sing that stuff doesn’t mean I like listening to it in the car. Classical is so much more interesting. Have you read sheet music?”

“All the time,” I said. “I’m a pianist. And I play the cello a little.”

“Yeah. So you see my point. Pop music is so boring from a sheet music perspective.”

“I agree,” I said, thinking back on when Anna bought me a book of the most popular music of the year for piano and the music was waaay below my skill level and so simple I didn’t even need the music to figure it out by ear.

“Finally. Usually people seem shocked that my own genre isn’t my favorite,” Kiro remarked.

“Well we’re all more complex than people tend to think. We like to put things in boxes, but people never fit in boxes,” I said. Kiro hummed in agreement and kept driving. I realized he was a much safer driver than any other guy I’d been in the car with recently—except maybe Lucien. Gavin was reckless and Victor drove so fast—but Kiro was pretty cautious. I got the feeling that maybe he didn’t drive very often.

We got to the karaoke place in good time. I handled the check-in while Kiro stood just slightly behind me, not making eye contact with anyone but holding my hand. We were escorted to a private room. There was a tablet set into the wall where we could make song selections and order food and stuff.

Kiro locked the door and winked at me. “Don’t wanna be caught by any fans,” he whispered before examining the equipment. There was a bright smile on his face. “Ah, man! It’s been so long since I did something silly and normal like this!”

“Well let’s not waste time, then,” I said, crossing to the tablet set into the wall. “Let’s see… how about…” I started listing off his own song titles with a playful grin on my face. Kiro came up behind me, his torso pressing against my side and one hand resting on my shoulder to read past me.

“No way am I doing one of my own songs. That’s how I get caught,” he said.

I giggled—I couldn’t help it. “I knooow. I’m just playing with you.”

He tsked. “How rude, Miss Chips,” he teased.

I snorted. “How about this one?” I gestured to a song title. “I mean, if you want to do a duet.”

“Of course I do! I can’t wait to hear how good you are!”

I laughed. “Hold your horses, tiger. I can carry a tune but I’m nowhere near your level, Mr. Superstar.”

Before I could say anything else, Kiro reserved the song for us. The tablet gave off instructions so we’d know when it was our turn. Someone else’s slightly-off-key singing was echoing over our speakers. We turned it down a little so we could talk.

We just chatted for a few minutes. There were only two songs before us, according to the queue on the tablet screen.

When we got to be on-deck, Kiro and I took our microphones.

He looked at me as the guitar began. “Tell me somethin’ girl… are you tired of this modern world…” He had such a beautiful, crisp, clear voice. It captivated me and pulled me right in. I stared at those bright blue eyes and could have gone for a swim in them. He sounded incredible. I wondered if anyone recognized his voice.

He sang it better than the original recording with What’s-His-Face. Maybe I just like singing something straight—without overdoing the stylization. Kiro didn’t bother with fancy riffs or vibrato.

It was my turn to pick up with the female part. I cleared my throat away from the mic and then held it close. “Tell me somethin’ boy… aren’t you tired of tryna fill that void…” I started quiet but confident. I knew the lyrics—and even if I didn’t, they were on the huge TV screen that was meant for karaoke. Kiro stared back at me, both of us just holding the other’s gaze.

For the life of me, I couldn’t read his expression.

I held the mic slightly farther away from my mouth so I could let out my full belt. I’d always spoken with a loud voice and accompanying that was a singing voice that could fill a Broadway theater. I’d been taught how to sing quietly, but letting loose felt so much better.

“I’M OFF THE DEEP AND WATCH AS I DIVE IN—I’LL NEVER MEET THE GROU-OU-OUND!”

Kiro stared at me with his jaw going slack. I felt my ears reddening and my voice wavered as though I was performing in front of an audience looking right at me instead of just Kiro.

But he picked up the harmonies perfectly when he was supposed to come in, and he knew them. He didn’t even look at the lyrics on screen. Neither did I. We didn’t need them. I did the vocalization in the middle, slowly building up the volume and then repeated the refrain. Kiro added the harmonies again.

I didn’t realize until the song petered out a few seconds later that we were standing within inches of each other. His warm breath brushed over my face.

I put the mic back on its stand. Kiro did the same. After a few moments, another song started up, signaling to us that our equipment had been turned off. Kiro immediately grabbed my arms with a massive smile on his face.

“Miss Chips!” he exclaimed. “That was amazing! Why didn’t you tell me that you could sing like that! You should come on stage at my next concert!”

I shook my head. “Oh no. I don’t sing in front of crowds that big. I don’t… sing in front of crowds, period. But thanks, Kiro.”

He fell onto the couch in our little room. “I cannot believe you never told me you were that good! You should be in front of the camera as a star—not behind it producing.”

I chuckled and crossed over, standing next to him but turned slightly toward the tablet screen so I could look at the food menu and the other songs. “But I like my job,” I said.

He leaned forward, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me down onto the sofa.

Except he misjudged the angle and I ended up falling right across his lap with a, “Whoa—WHOA!”

He caught me with a hearty laugh. “Whoops! Sorry,” he said, sounding entirely and genuinely unapologetic. But the sparkle in his eyes dissolved my irritation completely.

“It’s fine,” I said.

“We need to make this a regular thing. Come and do karaoke. I can’t go the rest of my life never hearing you sing ever again—you sound so good!”

“Kiro…”

“I’m serious, Miss Chips. It can be our little getaway thing. Or you can come to my place any time you wanna practice. I just… I’ve discovered my new favorite artist,” he said.

I snorted. “Thanks,” I muttered.

He brushed a few strands of my hair out of my face, eyes peering deep into my soul with earnest affection. We froze right there for several moments, someone singing what could have been Welcome to the Black Parade in one of the other rooms. The song was fuzzy though, tuned out as we focused solely on each other.

Heat spread over my face, originating from my ears and crawling down my neck too.

So many thoughts swirled through my head all at once that I couldn’t make sense of any of them. One of them, though, rang out loud and clear, like a bell, as I stared at Kiro’s smiling eyes.

I love you.

The thought pulled me up short and my face got even hotter. I must have been turning bright red. I slowly picked my way off Kiro’s lap and went back to the tablet screen. “Want to get something to eat?” I asked. “I’m hungry.” I hoped that would be the end of it. Not that I wasn’t enjoying the moment but… I wasn’t ready to say those three words out loud yet. Kiro was… a great guy and I really liked him but he was so busy all the time. I didn’t know if I wanted to get involved in a relationship with a superstar.

If there was ever a way to get thrust into the spotlight without being a public artist myself, that was it.

“Something wrong?” Kiro asked gently at the sudden change.

“No. Just hungry. Haven’t eaten since noon and it’s…” I glanced at the clock on the tablet screen. “Holy—wow. It’s seven-PM. No wonder I’m getting a little woozy. I haven’t eaten in forever.”

Kiro pressed against my side again as I browsed the food menu. We picked what to eat and I returned to the sofa. Kiro stayed at the tablet for a second though, scrolling through songs.

“Wow,” he said. “They have a lot of my songs here.”

I snickered. “Everyone loves your songs and wants to sing them, I guess,” I said.

He turned and fell back onto the sofa next to me. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No!”

“Well—it’s just—you just—you went all red and got up like I… like I did something wrong.”

“It was nothing you did, I promise,” I said. “It was just… I felt like you were looking right into my soul. I psyched myself out.”

Kiro smiled. “Maybe I was looking into your soul,” he teased.

I defaulted to playful mode to get over the awkward. “Oh yeah? Did you like what you saw?”

He leaned incredibly close to me. “I loved it,” he said seriously, so breathy it was almost a whisper. Immediately my heart hammered against my sternum so hard I thought it might break my ribs.

There was that piercing look again. The one where he was seeing the contents of my heart and soul laid bare. He was so close that if I barely shifted forward I could kiss him.

Over the speakers, someone was singing one of Kiro’s love songs—one I’d listened to… way too many times. Especially on days I was feeling lonely or down on myself. It was hard, even over a recording, not to feel like Kiro was singing right to my heart. Singing for me and only me.

And I’m sure everyone who listened to that song felt the same way.

The karaoke singer definitely didn’t have the nuance of Kiro’s voice, nor Kiro’s charm, but they sounded good.

But all of that was at the very back of my mind while the artist himself was looking at me like he was trying to shine his sunlight on the deepest, darkest depths of my heart.

And there was that thought again, amongst the too-fast swirling other thoughts.

I love you.

Feeling impulsive—and knowing we had quite a while to wait for food to come—i leaned forward, closing the distance between us.

He met me with enthusiasm, his fingers sliding into my hair. I felt the ring on his right finger brush my left earlobe. My nose was squished against his cheek, letting me smell his skin. I couldn’t tell if I recognized his aftershave or not but it had a sharp sweetness to it.

Just like him.

His fingers flexed in my hair, pulling me even closer to him. I relaxed against him, letting him take the lead.

“I love you,” I breathed against his lips. “I’ve fallen for you hard. And I don’t intend to try to get up.”

He chuckled, his eyelashes brushing my cheek, not pulling away from me either. “I love you too,” he replied. “Every love song I ever wrote pales in comparison to how I actually feel for you. I never had the proper experience to write about being in love accurately until I fell for you.”

[minijenn]

In More Ways Than One (Commission Oneshot)

AN-Heyyoooo! Finally finished my first writing commission! And boy I really loved working on this one. It was SO much fun and honestly its a huge fluff fest. Just so you know going in, this is a Poly MK oneshot, so if that’s not you’re thing then you may not be into this. Either way, I’d like to give an anonymous thanks to the person who commissioned this! Like I said it was a delight to write. So... enjoy!

***

“Alright, everyone. I’ve gathered you all here this afternoon for a very important matter,” Ford paused, taking stock of the aptly concerned expressions his brother and the Gems were sending his way. “I have reason to believe that something… might be wrong with the children.”

A beat of silence followed at this, the gathered group exchanging brief, bewildered glances before Pearl finally cut in with a loud sigh of relief. “Oh thank goodness, I’m not the only one to think the same thing! The four of them have been acting strange for weeks now! Please tell me you three have noticed it too, haven’t you?”

“Eh, normally I’d think you and Sixer are being paranoid, as usual,” Stan remarked, crossing his arms. “But those kids have been more out there than usual lately. Heck, just the other day I saw Mabel knitting a sweater-”

“That’s hardly out of the ordinary, Stanley,” Ford noted. “Mabel knits sweaters almost constantly.”

“Yeah, but when does she ever knit a sweater like this before?” Stan held up said sweater, clearly larger than the articles Mabel usually knitted for herself, though what was by far the most peculiar thing about it was the large heart stitched onto its center, a bold ‘S + M” carefully embroidered right over it. “If this doesn’t prove who Mabel’s latest crush of the week is, then I don’t know what does.”

“Oohhhhh man…” Amethyst looked genuinely anxious as she stared at the sweater. “That’s… gonna be pretty awkward for Mabel, especially when she finds out about Steven and Connie…”

“Why?” Pearl asked, confused. “What’s going on between them?”

“Uh, isn’t it obvious, P? They’re totally nuts for each other! I didn’t wanna say anything, mostly cause I don’t really like getting into Steven’s personal biz like that, but yesterday I saw Connie give him a kiss on the cheek! The cheek, you guys! That’s like, something I thought was gonna happen forever ago, but hey, at least its happening, even if they are pretty late to the party…”

“Oh, Amethyst, don’t be absurd!” Pearl huffed, doubtful. “As… admittedly adorable of a couple as Steven and Connie would make, a-and Steven and Mabel for that matter, I’m afraid its just plain to see that he’s not interested in either of them that way,”

“Oh yeah?” Amethyst challenged. “Then who is Steven crushing on?”

“Dipper, of course,” Pearl concluded, firm in her answer.

“What?!” Amethyst, Stan, and Ford exclaimed in surprised unison.

“Oh come now, don’t tell me none of you have noticed the obvious attraction between those boys,” Pearl frowned. “The sheer devotion and dedication Steven and Dipper consistently show for each other should be proof enough alone that their feelings towards each other are more than merely platonic. But there’s even more to it than that; last week, I happened to walk in on them forming Stepper sheerly for the sake of their own enjoyment. They tried to play it off as more than that, but I could tell by the look in Stepper’s eyes that he was loving every second the two of them were together.”

“Well, if your… theory is correct, Pearl,” Ford said, clearly uncomfortable with so much discussion of a topic like romance. “Then what of Mabel and Connie?”

“Well… who’s to say they don’t feel the same way towards each other?” Pearl shrugged. “They have been spending much more time than usual as of late anyway. And there’s no denying they have, what humans typically call ‘biology’ with each other.”

“You mean ‘chemistry’?” Stan corrected, dryly.

“What? No. That doesn’t make any sense, people can’t share chemistry, most chemicals are typically dangerous to humans anyway, right?”

“Anyway,” Ford interjected. “Speaking of chemistry—or ‘biology’ or whatever you’d prefer to call it, if any of the kids shares that sort of compatible dynamic, then clearly its Dipper and Connie. As respectably intellectually minded as they both are, they’d easily make a perfect pair.”

“So what, you’re saying they belong together cause they’re both huge nerds?” Stan asked, sending his brother a critical look.

“N-no!” Ford quickly backpedaled, flustered. “I have proof; a few days ago, I saw the two of them… w-well, they were—ugh, I suppose the only way to say it as that they were ‘holding hands’ as they walked down to the house from the temple. Just the two of them. Alone.”

“Pfft, so? That doesn’t prove anything!” Amethyst scoffed.

“I-I’d say it proves quite a bit!” the author exclaimed defensively. “Its further than I ever got with a girl, after all.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’ve got no charm, Ford,” Stan remarked, sending his brother a playfully teasing jab. “Then again, Dipper doesn’t really make much charm either, which it’d be an easy bet that both you and Pearl are wrong about Connie or Steven bein’ into him.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then your idea of Steven and Mabel being an item is every bit as preposterous,” Pearl remarked. “They’re close, yes, but Steven and Dipper are much closer.”

“Uh, no, Steven and Connie are, duh,” Amethyst cut in.

“But that doesn’t work because Connie’s already with Mabel!” Pearl countered, hands on her hips.

“Who, might I remind you, is actually with Steven,” Stan pointed out, exasperated.

“Which is fine because Connie and Dipper are both speaking for each other anyway,” Ford noted, resolute.

“You mean they’re spoken for, poindexter,” Stan corrected once more. “Geez, you nerds don’t know anything about this whole romance thing.”

“Well, then why don’t we ask someone who does?” Pearl retorted, turning to the sole member of the group who had yet to weigh in on the matter. “Garnet, what do think about all this?”

So far, Garnet’s expression had remained largely neutral as ever as she sat apace from the others, apparently not interested in engaging in on the conversation whatsoever. But as she finally turned to Pearl to give her thoughts, she was unable to keep her reaction to their ongoing speculation in any longer. A reaction that was, at least as far as the others were concerned, the very last thing any of them could have expected.

She laughed.

In fact, she laughed so hard that she was practically hysterical, a fact that genuinely unnerved the others as they were so used to the Gem leader’s steady sense of calm. Which was why, as baffled as they all were, they quickly pressed for an explanation behind it.

“Hey! What’s so funny, shades?” Stan asked, somewhat cross.

Garnet didn’t answer right away, instead slamming her first down on the table as she laughed even harder. When she finally did regain her composure enough to respond, she was still chuckling to herself all the while. “You’re all wrong.”

“What do you mean, we’re wrong?” Ford scoffed, aptly confused.

“Yeah, what are you saying, G, that none of the kids are into each other?” Amethyst asked, not following.

“Because I find that incredibly hard to believe, all things considered,” Pearl added, shaking her head.

“No,” Garnet said, still laughing. “Its exactly the opposite, really.”

“…Ok, now I really don’t get it,” Amethyst said, exchanging a lost glance with Pearl, Stan, and Ford. “G, what are you talking about here?”

“It’s actually really simple,” Garnet smiled brightly, clearly elated over something, even if none of the others knew what that something was. “Which is why I should let them explain it for themselves.”

The Gem leader nodded over to the shack’s front door as it opened at that exact moment, all four of the kids entering in. None of them apparently knew of the company gathered in the den as they conversed casually, a conversation that, when paired with their clear body language, provided more than enough of an explanation as to exactly what was going on.

“You know, we really should think of how we’re gonna break this to everyone…” Dipper noted with something of a worried frown.

“What, you mean the whole thing about the four of us all dating each other?” Steven asked rather bluntly and blatantly. “Because I think we should—oh….”

The young Gem immediately stopped short as all four of the kids noticed they had a captive audience in the den listening in. As if plainly stating it wasn’t enough, their relatively new interconnected relationships were all but proven by just how closely they all lingered to each other. Mabel was holding hands with Steven’s, his free arm resting on Connie’s shoulder while his fingers were interlaced with Dipper’s, who also had an arm wrapped around Connie as she did the same for him. Their expressions were awash in the same sort of mutual surprise that the adults in the room all shared, save for Mabel, who simply shrugged in blithe acceptance over being discovered like this.

“Welp, I guess this is one way to tell ‘em, huh?” she said, grinning over to her brother and her partners.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Pearl cut in before any of the others could, getting up from her seat to approach the kids. “You four are actually…?”

“Um… yeah, we sort of are…” Connie admitted, shifting nervously a bit. Even so, both Steven and Dipper quietly steadied her, their respective grips on her tightening protectively ever so slightly.

“And this has been going on for…?” Ford trailed off, aptly curious.

“A few weeks, at least,” Steven replied, unable to hold back a fond smile as he glanced over at Mabel, Connie, and Dipper. “Though I guess we always kinda felt this way deep down…”

“Ok, am I the only one who has about a billion questions about… all of this?” Stan said, generally gesturing to all four of the kids.

“Yeah, we… kinda figured you guys would,” Dipper remarked with a plaintiff shrug. “Which is sorta why we decided to not tell any of you about it until we figured out the best way to.”

“But now it looks like we don’t have a choice!” Mabel quipped, clearly more excited that they had been found out than the others. “So… fire away! Who’s up first with question number one!?”

“Uh, I guess I am?” Amethyst raised her hand. “What I wanna know is just how the hey all this happened? What made you guys decide you wanted to, ya know, make it official?”

“Actually, its kind of a crazy story,” Connie said with a somewhat forced laugh. “We all kind of realized our, uh, feelings for each other at different times and in different ways…”

***

Connie sighed contently, basking in the warm sun reflecting off the lake as Steven finished off the last few notes of a peaceful ukulele tune beside her. Rare was the moment shared between just the two of them, but she was grateful for this moment all the same. Especially one as blissfully sweet and calm as this.

Even so, she did sit up a bit when the young Gem’s simple song came to an end. “That’s a new one,” she noted with a smile. “Did you write it yourself?”

“Heh, yeah…” Steven glanced away, somewhat bashful. “It’s just… something special I’ve been working on for awhile now for, uh… for someone.”

“Oh?” Connie asked, intrigued. “For who?”

“Oh, uh, y-you know,” the young Gem shrugged. He hardly ever got this flustered but it was clear that was the case now, much to Connie’s growing confusion.

“Um, no, I don’t know,” she chuckled. “You haven’t told me that part yet, Steven.”

“Oh, right…” Steven laughed as well, albeit a bit forced. “Uh, a-actually, Connie, I…  I wrote that song for… I-I mean, I wrote it as… k-kind of… a love song, I… I guess.”

“A love song?” Connie raised an eyebrow at this, not sure of what to make of it. Though for some reason, unknown worry and excitement rushed through her all at the same time. “W-well, who’s the lucky, uh, girl?”

Steven hesitated, deeply blushing as he glanced away from her with an anxious, yet elated smile. Connie jolted in surprise as she felt his hand lightly skim over hers. Time seemed to stop as he leaned in closer to her until, both very suddenly and incredibly slowly, their lips met at the exact same time. The kiss only lasted for the briefest of moments before they both parted out of nerves alone. Even so, neither of them could back out of it without wearing the largest of smiles over the line they had finally, finally crossed.

“T-think you can take a guess?” Steven asked quietly, leaning his head against Connie’s slightly.

“Yeah…” Connie’s smile deepened as she stole another kiss from him, this time on the cheek, though it was no less sweet and satisfying then their first. “I think I can.”

***

It wasn’t a rare occurrence for Dipper and Connie to practice their sword fighting together outside of their weekly lessons with Pearl. The two would often head out to an open, yet private clearing in the woods, to go head to head against each other in friendly spars to sharpen their skills. Though lately, their training sessions had shifted focus somewhat. They would spend about an hour or so clashing their blades, though they’d pass even more of their time together simply sitting within the peace of the forest engaged in deep, but pleasant conversation. Today however, they had agreed to focus their efforts on their training, their swords clanging in a constant rhythm as they did their best to outmaneuver each other.

“Remember what Pearl keeps telling you, Dipper!” Connie called with a playful smirk as she came in for another broad swing. “You gotta keep yourself covered!”

“Oh, I’ll keep myself covered,” Dipper taunted back just as wryly. “As long as you keep your footing steady.”

Connie noted his attempt to knock her down by sidestepping out of the path of his sword before going in for another attack. “Uh, speaking of steady….” She began a bit leadingly as their swords clanged. They kept on each other, pressing against their respective swords as their faces drew in close amidst the tension. “I was wondering…”

Dipper easily caught her drift, his cheeks suddenly lighting red in as his pressure wavered somewhat. “O-oh yeah? Wondering what?”

Connie took the opportunity as she saw it, elbowing him hard enough to send him plummeting hard to the grassy ground. Dipper flinched as her sword slammed into the ground right next to his head as she leaned down over him, smirking with both confidence and apprehension at the same exact time. “I-I was just wondering if you’d like to, uh… go there. W-with… with me?”

For a moment, the most Dipper could do was stare up at her in shock as she continued to hover over him. But then, acting on a burst of boldness that was far more than the kind he usually carried, he leaned upwards, giving her a small, short, but soft kiss on the cheek. “Of course,” he said with a joyous laugh he was powerless to contain. “Of course, I would love to.”

“And I’d love it if you did that again,” Connie grinned just as warmly.

“Well, since you won this round, how can I say no?” he complied, meeting her halfway as they came together in another kiss, equally matched in both their skill with a blade and their affection for one another.

***

“Ok, Steven, are you ready for… the lightning round?!” Mabel asked with daring grin.

“Lightning round?” the young Gem asked, intrigued. The two of them had spent the past several hours engaged in a rousing game that they had come up with all on their own. It didn’t have any official name, but the basic rules involved going back and forth on cards of personality-based questions they had come up with earlier. They were randomly selected, which of course, added another layer of fun and excitement to an already unpredictable game as it was.

“Yeah! No thinking about your answers, you just gotta blurt ‘em out as soon as you hear the question,” Mabel explained. “Are you game, Universe?”

“You bet I am!” Steven grinned enthusiastically as he drew the first question card. “Ok, you’re up first. If you could go on vacation anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

“Easy, Belgium, I heard their chocolate is the best, ever!” Mabel took another card to pose a question to the young Gem. “Who would win in a fight, Lonely Blade or Tiger First?”

“Tiger Fist! He’s got punches to spare! Next question, who do you have a crush on?”

“You!” Mabel gasped, realizing that she truly had answered the very question she had written without a single thought whatsoever. Which, of course, was why she immediately attempted to backpedal out of embarrassment alone. “I-I… I mean-”

“Wait… really?” Steven asked, putting his card down as he looked to her with wide eyes. “Mabel, y-you… have a crush on me?”

Though her hands were still tightly pressed against her mouth, Mabel nodded, feeling as though her heart was crashing and burning at an alarming rate. For so, so long now she had done everything she could to keep her feelings a secret from the young Gem. But now that she had voiced them aloud, however accidental, there was no taking them back.

“S-since… when?” Steven asked, still trying to wrap his head around the idea.

“Since the first time we formed Maven,” Mabel admitted with a long, relenting sigh.

“That long? W-well… why haven’t you told me until now?”

“B-because!” Mabel huffed, throwing an arm over her eyes as she flopped back onto the couch. “I didn’t want it to ruin everything! I mean, you’re probably the first guy I’ve ever really really liked! All of those other boys were just dumb flings that I tried to distract myself with but you’ve always been different! Y-you’re… your special. But now that you know…”

“Now that I know,” Steven caught Mabel by surprise taking her hand and offering her a bright, reassuring smile. “I think its time you knew that… I-I think I feel the same way.”

Mabel froze, as if her entire world had been turned upside down at this news. In all the best of ways. “W-what?”

“Yeah, of course, I do!” Steven said, still beaming. “We have so much in common, and you’re always so much fun to hang out with. Not to mention you’re already one of my best friends, so who says we can’t we be more than that if we want to?”

“Y-yeah,” Mabel happily agreed, still in a state of delighted disbelief as she found herself falling into Steven’s open arms. “Who says we can’t?”

***

Due to Connie’s somewhat sheltered upbringing, she hadn’t had the chance to see too many “classic” movies, which was why Mabel had decided to make it her responsibility to introduce her to all of her favorites. They had dubbed the new tradition “Movie Mondays”, and on a rainy, dour Monday like this, staying in with warm blankets and a sweeping romantic comedy, it was a perfect way to pass the time. But what neither of the girls had been expecting was for this particular film to strike such an emotional cord with both of them.

Connie found herself tearing up as the couple on screen confronted each other in the rain, the dramatic orchestral score saying far more than mere words ever could. However, as the pair raced towards each other in a deep, loving embrace, she found herself glancing over at Mabel instead. She was, simply put, weeping, her sobs soft and deeply impacted as she burrowed her face into the collar of her sweater. For a moment, Connie watched her, dumbfounded, until, acting on impulse alone, she found her own hand slowly gripping Mabel’s beside her.

And from there, the girls’ attention turned away from the movie… and towards each other instead.

As soon as their eyes met, that was where they stayed: solely on each other and nothing else. Maybe it was the gentle pattering of rain on the shack’s roof, maybe it was the movie’s romantic music soaring to a triumphant peak, or maybe it was something else entirely. But, as if pulled by magic or magnetism or something else entirely, they came together in a kiss, soft, slow, and so, so sweet.

And when they finally parted, they were equally matched in satisfaction and confusion.

“M-Mabel…” Connie whispered, skimming her own lips with her fingertips. “Y-you… I didn’t know you were… o-or even that I was-”

“M-me either…” Mabel blushed deeply. “W-what a way to find out, huh?”

“Y-yeah, but… I don’t know if I really understand. No offense, but you’ve had so many crushes before, s-so… why am I the one who… y-you know.”

“Gosh, there’s so many reasons, where do I even start?!” Mabel smiled brightly, warming Connie’s heart even more than it already was. “You’re so smart and brave and pretty and like, a million other great things! Yeah, I’ve had a lot of crushes before, but none of them have been anywhere near as amazing as you are, Connie!”

“N-no one’s… ever… I-I’ve never…” Connie stopped herself, far too overwhelmed by joy and affection to really say anything else. So instead, she decided to let her actions do the talking. She took both of Mabel’s hands this time, offering her the happiest smile she could muster before pulling her in close. Mabel reciprocated by tossing a nearby blanket over them both, shrouding them in warmth and comfort as they drew to kiss once more.

They all but missed the end of the movie, but neither of them minded. After all, they had just found a much better pastime to enjoy together instead.

***

“I’m so glad we decided to do this more often,” Stepper smiled as he settled into his fused form, reclining out on the grassy ground to watch the lofty clouds above him. “So am I, being together like this feels… so nice. Yeah… it really does…”

The fusion sighed quietly, closing his eyes to enjoy the warm peace of the afternoon. However, that peace was soon broken as both his birthmark and gemstone flashed with a single, simple thought that both of his halves happened to share with each other at the exact same time.

“I wish we could always be together…”

Stepper darted upright with a gasp, his face warm and his heart and mind both racing. And yet, somehow, despite his shock, he remained, Steven and Dipper still united by their mutual apparent affection for one another. “I-I… you really feel the same way? You really feel the same way!” As torn between dumbfounded and elated as the fusion was, he couldn’t hold back a small, tight laugh as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I-I mean…. I’ve I think I’ve been feeling it every time we fuse…” he said to himself, his lower arms holding him in a lose hug of sorts. “So have I. Its… warm, and bright, and… amazing.”

Stepper lay back in the grass once more, his upper arms returning the very same hug his lower arms were providing him. “If we really want to stay together, then why don’t we? Even when we’re apart? Wait… do you mean…? Yeah, I do…. I-is that ok?  No, its even better than ok,” He paused, practically brimming over with far too many wonderful emotions to even count, all of which sustained him, steadied him, solidified the strong bond that composed his very being.

“For the longest time I-I didn’t want to tell you about this because I had no idea what it even really was….” Stepper closed his eyes, savoring this moment for all it was worth and wishing that it would never have to end. “But now I know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, exactly what this feeling is. So do i…”

His gem and birthmark shimmered once more as the fusion spoke, both halves of his whole confirming exactly what they were to each other, and all that entailed. “It’s love.”

***

“And from there, we just figured we all might as well just be together,” Connie finished off the lengthy round of romantic anecdotes. “That’s not… weird to you guys, is it?”

“B-because this really is how we feel about each other!” Dipper interjected almost defensively. “Yeah, its… sort of unconventional, but… it just… works for us.”

“And we’re loving ever second of it!” Mabel grinned, raising her and Steven’s held hands up high.

“And… we’re hoping you guys will respect that,” Steven said as he looked to the adults hopefully. “So…? What do you think?”

At first, none of them said a single word, all of them looking to the kids with rather unreadable expressions. Though at last, Pearl spoke, breaking the heavy silence. “Well… you’re not wrong about it being ‘unconventional’…”

“But who cares?” Amethyst asked, reclining back in her seat. “If it makes you dorks happy, then hey, why not go for it?”

“Yeah, exactly,” Stan agreed with a bit of a grin. “You runts are always together anyway, might as well be together together, you know?”

“Yes, I suppose there’s no harm in it,” Ford smiled with a supportive nod. “After all, the bonds between the four of you are quite admirable. Though, um… Dipper, Mabel, isn’t it a bit… odd for you two to be sharing the same significant others like this?”

“Eh, we’re getting used to it,” Dipper shrugged.

“It’s not like there’s plenty of both Steven and Connie to go around!” Mabel quipped, sending a fond smile towards the pair, which they readily returned.

“Well, as long as you kids know what you’re doing,” Pearl concluded. “We wouldn’t any want you to get hurt if… if things go wrong.”

“I don’t think that’s something they’ll have to worry about,” Garnet said, offering the kids a profoundly proud smile. “After all, when love is as strong as the kind they have for each other, it always finds a way to survive. I know that from experience.”

The Gem leader lowered her shades, winking her third eye at the kids, filling them with all of the mutual hope they could have needed that their newfound interconnected relationships with each other were destined to last. Now that everything was out in the open, a bit more casual conversation over said relationships continued, though the support towards them on all sides was quite clear. With their worries of rejection and disapproval cleared away, the kids were able to slip away from the impromptu meeting feeling a shared sense of happiness and relief, one that wasn’t bound to fade away too quickly.

“Well, that went way better than I ever thought it would,” Dipper noted as the four of them lay down together on the attic floor later on.

“Yeah, it did….” Steven smiled. “See, I told you guys that it would all be ok when we told them!”

“Heh, you did have a point,” Connie smirked as she stole a small kiss on the cheek from him.

“So…” Mabel chimed in with daring grin. “When do you think we should tell them that we’re all dating Pacifica too?”

“Uh… maybe let’s save that bombshell for after the dust from this one settles,” Dipper said, somewhat apprehensive.

“Still, for now, everyone finally knowing about us is… really nice,” Steven sighed contentedly, feeling Dipper and Connie’s respective grips on his hands tighten as Mabel sent him a flirtatious wink. It was as though the sheer amount of love and devotion shared between all four of them (technically five of them) couldn’t be contained. And for Steven, Mabel, Dipper, and Connie alike, that was just fine. “In more ways than one…”

[pussypoppinhippo]

Show me How you Burlesque|| Ballum

Summary: When a burst pipe threatens the Friday night Drag show at the Prince Albert the Vic offer to host instead. The show stars Walford’s own Diana Dee Izzuez but just which one of the residents of the square is behind the glamorous performer? 

A/N: I haven’t written anything like this in maybe ten years but this struck me tonight, beware of spelling mistakes and saucy dancing below.

Spotify Playlist for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7jVrM8LP1qwd0OvO3vqcgo?si=DtdQVAY4RkKo2ZBmbv6r4A

It was a little past seven at night on a semi busy Friday in the Vic when Tina, somewhat dripping wet despite the wonderful summer weather, came bursting through the pub doors. No one really batted an eyelid at the sight, Linda who was stationed behind the bar wasn’t all that taken aback when the soaking wet woman accosted her talking a mile a minute about drag queens, burst water pipes and a plea to move some sort of theme night into the local pub.

At a table just by the door Jay, Lola and Whitney were chatting waiting for Calum to bring the next round of drinks over from the bar, Whitney and Calum had broken up a year prior just before their wedding day after a blow up argument about the lads clear disinterest in their impending marriage. They’d only really started speaking properly again after Easter and tonight was the first real night in the pub they’d embarked on as friends.

“Apparently some sort of pipe disasters driven everyone out of the Prince Albert” Calum nodded his head over to Tina who was now drying off with a towel Mick had fetched her “ they’re moving their drag show here, starts at eight and apparently they’ve got this local performing as the main act”. Placing the drinks down on the table he took his seat next to Jay “Tina says we can stay for free if we fancy it” he added.

“A local act?” questioned Lola “I wonder if it’s that ...deedee? Ben was talking about the other week there you remember that?” she nudged Jay with an eyebrow raised.

The ginger rolled his eyes affectionately at the mention of his brothers latest nightlife obsession “ Di I think he said, apparently she’s from Walford and if I remember quite rightly he said she was pretty enough to make him consider the other side”.

Calum swallowed at the mention of the handsome mechanic, they’d started dating in secret in November and while Ben wasn’t best pleased with being kept a secret he’d understood that halfway’s father moving to Walford had made his impending coming out much more difficult.

“I say we stay! it sounds like a good laugh doesn’t it?” Whitney piped up with a grin, “ What do you think Cal?”. Nodding he gave her a smile as he reached down to send his boyfriend a cheeky text about missing out on the fun. “Speaking of Ben where is he tonight?” she asked taking a sip of her drink.

“He said Something about some hot totty” Jay snorted with a head shake “ same old Ben ain’t it? though I’m sure he’ll be sad to have missed out on all this” he motioned to the filling pub and the makeshift stage that Mick and Tina were creating toward one end of it.

They fell back into relatively normal conversation about life as they enjoyed their drink, managing to grab another round just before Kathy announced the show would be starting in five minutes time. Checking his phone Calum noted the text from his lover with a smile

‘ Sounds like I’m missing out don’t get stolen away by Walford's blue eyed temptress now ;) x’

He didn’t have time to reply to it as Kathy Introduced the nights entertainment.

“ Please give a warm Walford welcome to the Incomparable Walford vixen Miss Diana Dee Izzuez” she grinned as the first few notes of ‘Welcome to Burlesque” filled the air.

The figure that stepped onto the makeshift stage was like a vision from a Hollywood film, while the person was not particularly tall the glittery red high heels made the fishnet stocking encased legs that peeked from the slit in an equally sparkling floor length gown look long and the dress with its corseted top hugged the figure of the person it encased in all the right places. Long flowing wavy black hair framed a perfectly painted face with lips that could have been painted in blood and as they parted Calum thought he quite possibly could have died as the voice of an angel fell from them.

“Show a little more, show a little less

Add a little smoke, welcome to Burlesque”

It was seductive every move graceful and every word of the song perfectly sung as the queen on staged greeted her audience with an at ease smirk. Everyone in the pub was captivated, the Prince Albert faithful watched on with an admiration for someone they loved and the Vic’s usual punters looked on in an almost awe at the masterful mystery before them. It was only as the second verse began that a vague sort of recognition rang in Calum’s head, he’d heard that voice before he was almost certain but he couldn’t quite place where.

The seductress on stage waved an elbow length black glove encased hand at someone in the crowd as her eyes scanned the rest of them passing over the table at the back of the room with a disgruntled Phil, an interested Sharon, a captivated Louise and a fed up looking Keanu in mild interest before landing on the friends sat near the door with a smirk.

“If you wanna a little extra, well, you know where I am

Something better in the dark, just playing with your mind

There's nothing in the days, that's just for the bump and grind

Show a little more

Show a little less

Add a little smoke

Welcome to …….Burlesque.”

The song finished up and Diana took her applause with a graceful smile and leant down to accept a drink from someone.

“Y’know she does look sort of familiar” Lola popped up eyes narrowing as she studied the figure on stage “y’reckon we know her?” she asked the group who were also studying the drag queen with interest.

“Maybe it’s kush?” added whitney “ I can’t really tell the lighting here is awful”.

The ginger snorted “ can’t be we all know after New Years karaoke Kush’s tone deaf, what do you think mate?” he nudged Calum unaware that the penny had just dropped for the former army officer, Diana Dee Izzuez was sporting a rather prominent hickey just above a classic pearl necklace, a hickey that the man knew matched perfectly with one he’d given Ben mere hours before in the Arches and that singing voice one that reminded him so much of Ben singing in a hotel shower after a sneaked weekend away a month or so back.

“Uh I…no idea mate” he stumbled out trying to hide his surprise with a sip of his drink as he tried to make sense of the fact that the beautiful performer on stage could in fact be his rough around the edges boyfriend.

“Welcome Ladies, Gentlemen and those who are somewhere in between, my name is Diana Dee Izzuez but you my friends can call me Di” the queen purred voice husky with a musical lilt that had Calum second guessing if his suspicions about this being Ben were right.

“I’m going to sing a few songs and do a touch of dancing for you tonight, if you enjoy my performance there are tip jars on the bar we’re collecting money in aid of AKT who help support LGBT+ homeless youth” Di smiled before taking a sip of her red wine and setting it down on the side of the stage. Clicking her fingers above her head the next songs started up the plucky piano recognisable to anyone who enjoyed a Broadway show almost immediately.

"The name on everybody's lips

Is gonna be Roxie

The lady raking in the chips

Is gonna be Roxie”

Highways mouth went dry as he watched Di swing her hips seductively on stage, every word was sung with that same devilish smirk that he could pinpoint as the one Ben used along side witty one liners, that was most definitely his boyfriend. Her hips swayed as she clicked her fingers to the beat teasingly kicking her leg out from the slit in the dress so the audience could catch a peak of the lacey black garter and matching suspenders underneath.

“From just some dumb mechanics son

I'm gonna be Roxie

Who says that murder's not an art?”

While the change in lyrics may have went over almost everyone in the pubs head it had Sharon and Louises eyes widening in recognition although Ben hadn’t made it that subtle he’d coupled the line with a little kiss blown toward the table.

His boyfriend certainly caught it and it had confirmed what he’d been thinking, Walford’s blue eyed vixen was none other than Ben Mitchell. On stage the performance went on Di was shimming along to the beat, the little break in the music was filled with a slow seductive turn and a pretty impressive high kick showing off more of the lace hidden underneath the eye catching dress. Taking a step off the stage the crowd practically parted  as Di didn’t miss a beat heels clicking in time with the music as she purred the lyrics.

Think of those autographs

I'll sign,

'Good luck to ya, '

Roxie!

She leaned over signing a piece of paper that was offered toward her with a flourish, she made her way toward the back of the crowd interacting with people as she went. Di never wavered once while singing leaning over to kiss a miserable looking Keanu’s cheek as she breezed past the Mitchell table and worked back toward the stage leaving the woman at it stifling giggles. Reaching the group of friends at the front she shot Calum a wink.

“the audience loves me!

And I love them

And they love me for loving them

And I love them for loving me

And we love each other

And that's because none of us

Got enough love in our childhoods

And that's showbiz

Kid”

Di had leant toward them as she’d sung the lines and the last few  had definitely been aimed toward Calum who was trying his best not to turn beet red. He was definitely going to have to have a long talk with Ben after this and perhaps he’d suggest those heels make an appearance at their next weekend away. She climbed back onto the stage finishing the song with a flourish and a smile before smoothing her hands over her curves then bending down to pick up her wine.

“Y’know those pearls…. they looks a bit like the ones you showed me with the one pink pearl in the centre” Jay arched an eyebrow at Calum who hadn’t quite managed to get his blush under control.

“No…no don’t think so mate” the taller man spluttered trying to avoid eye contact, he’d noticed it as well that  the pearl necklace Di was wearing was identical to the one he’d bought Whit for their wedding day but had never given her, the one he was sure was supposed to be nestled in his bedside drawer back at the flat.

“Wait ...do you know who she is Cal?” Whit questioned as everyone at the table turned toward him, looking at him expectantly she leaned in a little more “have you figured it out?”

Shaking his head he was just about to blurt out an excuse when a voice from the stage interrupted.

“ For this next song I’m going to need a handsome volunteer” Diana pretended to scan the audience her eyes almost immediately landing on Calum who was trying to lean away from his ex almost wife who had leant in to try and get information out of him, the little flash of jealousy in Di’s eyes was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

“hmmmm you” she purred pointing to Highway “ give that tall glass of water a round of applause as he makes his way up here oh and barkeep?”. She waved a hand toward Mick with a dazzling smile “ two of your finest whisky please for me and my friend here”.

While she’d been speaking Kathy had slipped a chair onto the stage, of course she knew exactly who Di was, Ben had approached her about the drag nights after he’d done a few gigs at other clubs but she wasn’t quite sure why exactly instead of the usual anonymous handsome punter he’d picked Calum for this bit.

Making his way onto the stage after some pushing from the others Cal allowed himself to be pushed down into the chair eyes taking in just how gorgeous the other was up close in drag.

“ be good for me lover boy” Di purred in his ear as the music for the next song started up leaving Calum blushing to stand behind the chair.

“The demon queen of high school has decreed it

She says Monday, 8am I will be deleted

They'll hunt me down in study hall

Stuff and mount me on the wall

Thirty hours to live, how shall I spend them?”

Up close like this the taller man could smell the perfume Diana wore, the musky floral scent was definitely expensive and the note of something very strictly Ben peeking through it was definitely making it that much more alluring. Diana's hand slid down Calums chest as she sang undoing the top button of his white button up with gloved hands. Her hips still swinging she danced around the man in the chair using him as a prop to help enhance her performance. Every word of the song was sung with such passion the lanky man was sucked in, so enchanted he wasn’t expecting the lap full of Di that he ended up with.

"Shh…

Sorry but I really had to wake you

See, I decided I must ride you ‘til I break you

'Cause Heather says I gots to go

You're my last meal on death row”

She guided his hands to her hips and faced the audience as she seated herself in his lap the pleased smirk of blood red lips saying it all the watching audience. Calum’s eyes drifted toward his group of friends who were giggling, grinning and wiggling their eyebrows at him as he received what could best be described as a lap dance from the other. He was most definitely past blushing and was now an almost permanent shade of pink that perhaps could only be matched by the shade of red Phil Mitchell had turned when his wife had explained exactly who the tart on stage was really.The Dance continued just as raunchy as Di rolled her hips and halfway hands wandered ever so slightly to run over the curve of waist the corset was giving the beautiful babe in his lap.

Get your ass in gear

Make this whole town disappear

"Okay, okay!"

Slap me, pull my hair

Touch me

There and there and there

And no more talking!

Whoa!

Love this dead girl walking!

A slap to the man's thigh and then hand tugging halfways hair in time with the song sent the crowd cheering and they only got wilder as Diana stood in front of him and ripped the skirt from her dress revealing lace boy short style panties that at that moment only Calum could see had the word ‘saucy’ stoned in red gems on the back and that matching lace suspender set that held up fishnet stockings. Hitting the note at the end of the song the place practically erupted as Di took a bow and then the whisky offered on a tray by Mick handing one to Calum before cheersing him. Downing it the undertaker stood up moving to make his way off stage but not making it very far as he was caught by Miss Diana who spun him around and promptly kissed him on the lips. Despite the moment of panic it brought immediately Calum found he didn’t actually care and pulled the other closer to deepen the kiss ever so slightly appreciating that with Ben in such high heels he didn’t have to bend into the kiss so much.

Parting to wolf whistles from the crowd Halfway slipped off of the stage and back to his table where he was greeted by raised eyebrows.

“SO you don’t her then?” questioned Jay as he crossed his arms.

“ never kissed me like that cal” Whitney added reaching over to wipe a spot of red lipstick that had transferred over to the corner of his mouth.

“ So c’mon spill, who is the mysterious Diana Dee Izzuez” prompted Lola as they all leaned in toward the other so they would be able to hear his answer over the beginnings of Britney's Toxic.

The door near the back of the pub slammed followed by a muffled “Phil!” and Calum could only chuckle his eyes were drawn back to the dancing figure on the stage who had gone from Hollywood glam to sex kitten.

“ Well I’d say he’s a talented man with daddy issues” he grinned, glancing over to the others at the table “but I think you’d know him better as Ben Mitchell and he’s my boyfriend”.