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quicksilversquared · 4 years

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An Unusual Run-In

Mrs. Rossi was expecting a quiet lunch out, a little reward to herself for finally getting completely caught up at work. What she got instead... well, it was much less pleasant.

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Mrs. Rossi wandered down the sidewalk, enjoying the Paris sunshine as she headed towards a nearby cafe that she had heard good things about. She had managed to get caught up with things at the embassy and gotten them in a good enough place to be able to have a bit of time to spare for lunch out for the first time since she had arrived, and she was determined to enjoy the break.

Soup and a sandwich sounded like it would hit the spot just right.

There were students all over the place as Mrs. Rossi headed towards the cafe, some headed in the same direction while others were simply heading home or to the park to enjoy the weather. She wondered if she might spot her daughter among the students, but it was probably unlikely. Lila seemed to enjoy staying at the school to eat lunch there with her friends, and she hardly had a ton of pocket money to spend on eating out on a regular basis. Mrs. Rossi generally didn't eat out, either- it was a waste of money, in her opinion, and ate up time- but she had been working hard enough lately that she deserved a treat.

She reached the cafe and joined the line, waiting patiently as the workers at the counter filled orders. A lot of the tables outside were already filled- a pity, she would have liked to enjoy the sun a bit more- but there were certainly enough spots inside and a number of the students in the line seemed to be getting their orders to go, so at least she should be able to find a spot to sit.

The line worked forward at an impressive rate, and soon enough Mrs. Rossi was approaching the counter and placing her order. She stepped over to the side to wait for her order to be ready, and when she did, she spotted a very familiar face, apparently just ducking in to grab a few more napkins.

She hadn't met her daughter's boyfriend before, between her work and his busy schedule (and, well, she hadn't met any of Lila's friends, really, but soon! She had time now, it could happen soon!), but she had seen pictures of Adrien Agreste before. There wasn't really anyone else it could be, and so after a moment's deliberation- maybe she should just wait until Lila introduced him, but realistically, how long could that take? And maybe if she said hi now, he would introduce her to some of Lila's other friends- she stepped forward, eyes trained on the boy. He caught her eye when he turned away from the napkin dispenser and paused, clearly puzzled by the unknown lady staring at him.

"Hello," Mrs. Rossi greeted him, figuring that there was no going back now. She stuck out a hand for him to shake. "I know we've not met before, but I couldn't not say hi when I spotted my daughter's boyfriend."

The boy blinked at her, clearly puzzled. He didn't shake her hand. "Um, I think you have the wrong person. I'm not dating anyone. And I haven't- the closest I've ever come to dating someone- I met her mom, and you're definitely not her."

Mrs. Rossi frowned. Had she somehow found Adrien Agreste's doppelganger, or misremembered what he looked like. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were Adrien Agreste-"

"I am Adrien Agreste." He was frowning now too, and looking more than a little uncomfortable as he glanced towards the door. "And I'm not dating anyone."

"But Lila said that you've been dating since she first arrived in Paris!" Mrs. Rossi exclaimed, confused for a moment until it hit her. Ah, of course! She should have mentioned Lila from the start. Adrien was a popular model and of course he wouldn't want to go around telling people who he was dating, just in case there were any jealous fans around. "And she's told me about dates that you two have gone on."

Adrien's expression flickered with something unreadable, then went oddly blank. "I'm not dating Lila. I don't date liars, bullies, or thieves, and Lila is all three. I don't know why Lila is trying to claim that she's dating me, but it's not remotely based in any sort of truth. Good day."

With that, Adrien Agreste spun on his heel and vanished into the lunch crowd. Seconds later, Mrs. Rossi saw the door open and a nest of blond hair bob outside. She was still staring after him when the worker at the pick-up counter called her name once, twice, three times. Mrs. Rossi jumped as her name finally registered, and she hurried to pick up her order with a quick apology before she found a seat at a secluded table in the corner. Her cheeks were hot with embarrassment, though she wasn't sure if she was more embarrassed about- well, whatever had happened with Adrien- or about being so out of it that she hadn't heard the worker calling her name.

Now that she was seated, she could properly puzzle over her brief exchange with Adrien. He had claimed that he wasn't dating anyone, had never dated anyone, and that Lila was a liar, a thief, and a bully. Which... well, that just didn't sound like her daughter! But Lila had said that they were dating, something that Adrien had said was false. And he hadn't acted squirrely or anything, like he might if he was making up a lie on the spot.

But Lila hadn't hesitated at all when telling her mom about the dates that Adrien had taken her on. And Mrs. Rossi knew her daughter, even if they hadn't had as much time together as they used to due to their moving and Mrs. Rossi's busy schedule. She would know if Lila was lying, and, well. Adrien Agreste was a model and, if she was remembering correctly, an actor. He would know how to hide his emotions and look as though he was telling the truth, even if he wasn't. That made him the more likely candidate for not telling the truth.

But why would he reject the very notion of dating Lila like that?

Mrs. Rossi puzzled over that as she ate her sandwich, almost not tasting it at all as she tried to work out what might have happened. The pieces just weren't fitting together- until they did.

Lila and Adrien must have broken up- recently, considering that they had had a dinner date just that weekend- and Lila just hadn't wanted to admit it to her mom. Either that, or she had thought that she and Adrien would reconcile and get back together, so she hadn't wanted to trouble her mom. If Adrien's attitude was anything to go by, though, that hope was a little overly optimistic.

Frankly, Mrs. Rossi thought that was probably for the better. If Adrien was immature enough to start making baseless accusations about Lila to her mom because he was angry at her because of their break-up, then he wasn't ready for a relationship. She would have to talk to Lila about it, which was bound to not be a very happy conversation but it was definitely an important one.

With that settled, Mrs. Rossi went back to her lunch. She had earned this break, after all, and she was going to enjoy it. She wasn't going to let a moody teenage boy ruin it for her or spend the whole time doubting her daughter, not when it was so easy to puzzle out what happened.

She was second-guessing herself.

Huffing, Mrs. Rossi set aside the paperwork that she hadn't really been reading, rubbing her forehead as if she were trying to banish the thoughts that kept haunting her. It didn't help, unsurprisingly, and so she flopped back in her chair to give herself a moment to try to pick out why she couldn't put that morning's encounter behind her.

Maybe it was because of how oddly specific Adrien's accusations about Lila were. Maybe specific wasn't quite the right word, but something about the names that he had called Lila seemed just a bit off.

A liar. A thief. A bully.

In Mrs. Rossi's experience- from what she remembered from her teenage years- less-than-friendly breakups usually resulted in name-calling of a more general sort. Accusations of being selfish, of being jealous, of being rude or smelly or inconsiderate or petty. They weren't nice names to be called, but it usually related somehow to the reason why they broke up.

But Adrien hadn't used those names, and that was what was throwing Mrs. Rossi off. It was possible- likely, even- that something had just gotten blown out of proportion and that was why Adrien had called Lila a bully, a thief, and a liar instead. Since the school hadn't called, it probably wasn't that big of a deal.

But it would be smart to call and check in, maybe. At the very least, she could make sure that the teachers were keeping an eye on the dynamics in the classroom following the break-up. It would put her mind at ease, and then she wouldn't risk falling behind again when she had only just managed to get on top of things. Hopefully it would only take five minutes at most, and then she would be able to get some quality work done and surprise Lila by actually getting home early enough to make a dinner that wasn't rushed.

Plan in place, Mrs. Rossi picked up her phone and looked up the phone number for the principal of the school. The phone rang once, twice, and then picked up.

"Hello? This is the office, Mr. Damocles speaking."

"Hi, this is Elena Rossi," she told the man on the other end of the line. "Lila Rossi's mother, I'm calling because-"

"Oh, yes, perfect timing!" Mr. Damocles boomed, cutting her off. "Lila just informed us about the trip you're about to be making and I was going to reach out and see if I could actually get through this time. I really must insist that all of the paperwork gets filled out this time- I know we let it slide for the last trip, since it was so sudden, but we can't do that again. And Lila really does have to actually complete all of her schoolwork this time around- if she falls any more behind, we'll have to discuss either summer school or holding her back a year-"

"I'm- I'm sorry, what trip?" Mrs. Rossi exclaimed, completely thrown off. "We're not going on any trips, we haven't been out of the country for more than a weekend since we got here. We've been in Paris the whole time, and- and the only time Lila wasn't in school was when it was closed for several months because of akuma attacks!"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

"Ma'am, the school has only ever closed for an hour or two due to akuma attacks," Mr. Damocles said slowly. "Never for several months, Ladybug and Chat Noir would never let battles drag out that long. Lila told us that you had to go on an extended diplomatic trip and that she couldn't stay in Paris alone so she would be going along. She appeared to call in from several different locations."

Mrs. Rossi's stomach was sinking and twisting into knots. "No- that's not even part of my job description! I- I don't understand."

There was another pause, followed by the shuffling of paper. "Ah, perhaps her lying disorder was acting up? I must insist, if that's the case, that Lila get medical attention because keeping a lie going for that long, she was insisting that it only makes her tell small white lies every once in a while-"

"Lying condition?" Mrs. Rossi couldn't believe her ears. "She- no, Lila's perfectly healthy. She doesn't have any sort of lying condition. She- she-"

She didn't know what to say. Her five-minute conversation to set her mind at ease was going in a completely different direction than she thought it would, and now she was left floundering.

Surely she hadn't been paying THAT little attention while she got things at the embassy under control?

There was another pause, broken by a small cough. Mr. Damocles sounded as uncomfortable as she felt, which- well, it was no real comfort.

"Ma'am, I think we might need to ask you to come in. The sooner, the better."

Mrs. Rossi rushed to let her coworkers know that she had to step out for an incident at her daughter's school, then hurried over to the collège. She was ushered into Mr. Damocles' office at once, and then got caught up on what, exactly, her daughter had been up to at school.

Needless to say, she was appalled. The number of lies that Lila had told- pointless lies, sometimes, presumably because she didn't feel like doing something (or eating something)- was absolutely off the charts. Mr. Damocles wasn't even sure that they had everything recorded, since his records were based almost entirely off of what the teachers overheard and had considered relevant information to write down and pass along. The other part of his records were based off of doctor's notes- but they weren't doctor's notes that Mrs. Rossi had ever seen before, and they were for conditions that she had never taken Lila to the doctor for. Closer inspection revealed that they were definitely written with Lila's handwriting, only slightly modified to hide the immediate similarity.

The lies were bad enough. Forged documentation so that she would get all sorts of accommodation that she didn't need? That was horrifying.

"We may need to get the police involved," Mr. Damocles informed Mrs. Rossi as he gathered up all of the "doctor's notes". Not a single one of them had been valid. "This is a very serious situation and we want to treat it as such. Add in the whole situation with Miss Dupain-Cheng, and- well, there might be a case for emotional distress or something there, I'm not sure what it would be called."

Mrs. Rossi sat up straight. Now this wasn't something she'd heard about yet, but it might explain the bully comment from Adrien. "What happened with Miss Dupain-Cheng?"

"Well. Ah." Mr. Damocles shuffled his papers, looking a little uncomfortable. "There were several accusations leveled at Miss Dupain-Cheng by Lila- that she had cheated on a test, that she had pushed Lila down the stairs, and that she had stolen a necklace from Lila. We thought that we had evidence, as the answer sheet was found in her bag, and the necklace was in her locker, and- well, Lila had been at the bottom of the stairs. So Miss Dupain-Cheng got expelled. But then Lila said the next day that her lying disorder had been acting up, which- hmm." He frowned. "In retrospect, that doesn't quite make sense. She would have had to plant things in advance, which suggests- well, anyway, Miss Dupain-Cheng was allowed back. But I do believe we asked her to thank Lila for coming forward and admitting to her condition, which, ah..."

Mrs. Rossi only just resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands and groan. She suspected, based on what she was hearing, that the girl targeted had probably known full well that Lila was lying and that she was lying on purpose. Being asked to thank Lila after going through that kind of ordeal...

Frankly, at this point, if Mrs. Rossi had heard anything about her daughter getting beat up by one extremely ticked-off classmate, she would probably conclude that Lila very much deserved it. Sure, Lila had 'allowed' her to come back- and why Lila had decided to make up a 'lying disease' to walk back what had presumably been a fairly planned set-up to get rid of the other girl was still a mystery- but that didn't change the fact that she had been targeted and been forced to go through what was probably a fairly distressing ordeal in the first place.

She was going to have to track down the student and her family and apologize to them for everything that Lila had put them through. Ideally Lila would be the one apologizing, but frankly, she didn't trust Lila to do it. She wouldn't be sincere, for one, and just based on what Mrs. Rossi had been hearing, she would probably try to twist the situation to get in another dig at her classmate.

"Anyway, we should probably discuss punishment," Mr. Damocles said, pulling Mrs. Rossi out of her thoughts and bringing her attention back to him. He looked uncomfortable, fiddling with his pen. "Ah, Lila has been akumatized a number of times. I worry that if we administer punishment fitting to the actions within the city limits, we might end up endangering the staff and students here."

Mrs. Rossi took a deep breath and let it out. She didn't want to think of her daughter endangering anyone and physically hurting them, but she had to consider Hawkmoth's presence in the city and the fact that Lila was clearly a lot more manipulative and vindictive than she had thought. She had failed so spectacularly as a parent until now, what with not catching on to what her daughter was up to, and that had resulted in not insignificant damage. Now, she had to make it right for those her daughter had hurt, even if that meant not giving in to the urge to give Lila one last chance.

"I agree," Mrs. Rossi told the principal, swallowing hard. She hadn't wanted to do this before, but Lila left her no choice. "And while I don't like it, I have a possible solution. My parents have offered to send Lila to the same school that I went to, back in Italy." She had always declined the offer before, for several reasons. It was a boarding school, and she hadn't wanted to send Lila away. While it was a good school that pushed for academic excellence, it was very strict. The sort of things that Lila had been pulling would not be entertained for even a minute, which- well, that was a good thing, but wouldn't any parent have some concerns about how fast punishments were doled out? "I suggest that I send her there. Whatever punishment needs to be carried out, it can be dealt with there. It will be out of Hawkmoth's range and she won't be able to harm her classmates more."

Mr. Damocles nodded, looking relieved. "Yes, yes. That sounds like a good idea. But..." He tapped his fingers, still anxious. "She'll still be in Paris when she finds out, won't she?"

Mrs. Rossi shook her head, her mind whirring as she puzzled together what she needed to do. As soon as this meeting ended, she would have to call both her parents and the school to make arrangements. Then- well, there would probably be more meetings with Dupont and the police to figure out the details of the punishment. She would be incredibly busy. "Once things are set up for Lila to transfer, I can tell her that we're going down to visit my parents for a weekend and then break the news there. It means that I'll have to be the one to deal with packing up her room, but I'd rather do that than have Lila akumatized again and hurt someone. I can get started on those arrangements right away."

"If you want to make any calls right now to get the process started, I can step out and let you use my office to make those calls in private," Mr. Damocles offered at once. "The sooner this is settled, the better, I think."

"Yes, yes, of course." Mrs. Rossi's head was spinning and part of her mind was absolutely screaming about how she was going to fall behind at work again, but she ignored it. There were more important things to prioritize right now, and once Lila was back in Italy, she could work as late as she needed to catch up without worrying about her daughter left alone at home. "That would be much appreciated, thank you."

"Of course, it's no problem." Mr. Damocles was standing up already, stepping towards the door. "If you need me, I'll be in the library."

"Thank you." Mrs. Rossi waited for him to step out, then pulled out her phone and dialed her mom. The phone rang once, twice, and then picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi mom, this is Elena," Mrs. Rossi said, sinking back in her chair. "I know this is an odd time of the day, but I have a very big favor to ask of you..."

It actually took very little time to get Lila registered for her new school, her files transferred over and her behavior record caught completely up. The Dupont staff took care of briefing the staff at the other school on what Lila had done, and over the course of several video conferences they figured out fitting punishments for at least part of Lila's behavior.

Some of it, like the emotional distress and truancy, would have to be settled in court later on. But they could at least address some of the lesser offenses right away, and they could remove Lila from Hawkmoth's range before she hurt anyone else.

Thankfully, it was easy enough to get Lila to join her on a trip back to Italy. They left mid-afternoon on Friday- what Lila had told her friends, Mrs. Rossi didn't know and at this point, didn't care- on a trip to 'visit her grandparents for the weekend'. On the drive between the train station and Mrs. Rossi's parents' house, Mrs. Rossi took an early turn and pulled up to Lila's new school.

Lila's new school, which wasn't the same as Mrs. Rossi's old one. They had told her that they weren't well-enough equipped to deal with someone like Lila and had recommended another boarding school that was specifically geared towards students with behavioral problems. Mrs. Rossi hadn't been a fan at first- there was still a part of her that wanted the best for her daughter and didn't want to subject her to the sort of environment that a school for kids with behavioral problems was bound to have- but she also wasn't willing to subject any more innocent students to Lila's behavior.

Thankfully, several campus police officers had been there and on hand to help, because Mrs. Rossi had never been more scared of her own daughter than she had been in the minutes after Lila got informed that her lies had been discovered and that she was being transferred to the boarding school. She had screamed, she had thrashed, she had threatened, she had tried to bargain and persuade her mom that it was actually everyone else who was lying. Mrs. Rossi had forced herself to ignore it all, simply unloading Lila's luggage and handing it over to one of the employees who had come out to get Lila moved in before getting back in her car. Lila had raged after her, screaming that she was a terrible mother.

Mrs. Rossi had bit back the and you're a terrible daughter as she shut her car door and drove away. It wouldn't help anything, and it would just make Lila resent her more, if that was even possible. She spent the rest of the weekend with her parents before returning to Paris late on Sunday. It felt like an elephant-sized weight had been taken off of her shoulders, though there were still things that she had to take care of. She had to get caught up at work (again), pack more of Lila's things to ship down, and check in with- well, if perhaps not with Lila, then at least one of the staff at the school.

Then, of course, she had to deal with classmates that Lila had left behind. Lila's former teachers had offered to break the news to their students that none of Lila's stories had been true, but Mrs. Rossi felt somewhat obligated to fix things herself. She had ended up too focused on her work to check in with the school, too trusting that Lila wouldn't get into any trouble and would faithfully report what was going on, and the class had suffered for it.

Besides, without a daughter in the city to look after, it would be easy enough to catch up on her work on the weekend. It wasn't ideal, of course- she would prefer to have the weekends to explore the city, perhaps, or to clean the apartment or take care of the multitude of other things that had been neglected ever since their move- but it would be easy to do.

On Monday, Mrs. Rossi headed into Lila's old school. She briefly stopped by the principal's office to check in with him, and then headed to what had been Lila's homeroom. As she drew closer to the door, she was very, very glad that she had come in person.

Because just inside the door, there were a few students chatting. And the topic of their conversation was Lila.

"Wait, Lila's not coming back?" one girl asked, high-pitched and upset. "It's not just another trip?"

"No, not this time," another classmate- Alya, Mrs. Rossi was guessing, just based on what she had heard about Lila's classmates- said. She waved her phone, grinning. "She texted me last night! She apparently wasn't actually visiting her grandparents this weekend. That was just a cover! She was actually trying out for some super-secret role in a movie and she wasn't allowed to tell anyone ahead of time, because there's a lot of details that the project wants to keep secret. And she got the part! But that means that she'll be getting a private tutor while on set instead of calling us here, because her schedule's going to be so intense that it would be impossible to keep up otherwise."

...well, if that wasn't the biggest load of bull Mrs. Rossi had ever heard, she wasn't sure what was.

"Oh, I'm so excited for her, but I'll miss her!" another girl exclaimed. "Presumably she'll come back after filming is done, though? So maybe we'll be in the same lycée class!"

"And it'll be super-cool to see her movie," the first girl added. "We'll have to all go together as a class to see it when it comes out! Did she say when-?"

Alya was shaking her head. "No, it sounds like it's a longer-term project. And after this comes out- well, they're going to be working wit a lot of big names. How often do child stars come back to normal school? I bet that she'll get offers for other projects. Which- how cool will it be to be able to say that we knew her before she got super-famous?"

"I hope she doesn't forget about us when she gets famous!" another classmate chimed in, twisting around to join in the conversation. "I mean, I know she's got more important stuff going on at the moment and I don't want to distract her at all, but there were people that she said she would introduce us to and she just didn't get around to it before."

"Oh, I'm sure she remembers!" the first girl piped up again. "Maybe she won't be able to introduce people in person, but Lila's not going to forget about us. And maybe she'll even invite us to screenings or cast parties for her movies and we'll get to meet people that way! That would be amazing!"

"It would be very cool, I'm sure," Mrs. Rossi said, stepping into the classroom. All eyes swung around to her, and- oh, good, the entire class was here. "If it was at all true, which it isn't. Clearly Lila has learned nothing."

"Uh, who are you?" Alya demanded, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow at Mrs. Rossi. One row down, Adrien glanced up, caught sight of Mrs. Rossi, and immediately leaned over to whisper something to the girl standing next to him. "Lila wouldn't lie to us, not unless she had to, to keep her project secret!"

"I'm Lila's mother," Mrs. Rossi told her dryly. "And oddly enough, I think I have a better idea of what's going on in my daughter's life than you do at the moment. She got shipped off to a boarding school for children with behavioral problems because she wouldn't. Stop. Lying. The fact that she's decided to double down and make up some story instead of coming clean tells me that I did the right thing. I hear that she claimed connections with all sorts of celebrities and said she had a whole bucketful of ailments. Neither of those is remotely true."

Alya blinked, clearly befuddled. "But..."

"That's what I came in for today, actually." Pressing past the disappointment of finding out that Lila was clearly digging her heels in and refusing to change- it really shouldn't have been a surprise at this point- Mrs. Rossi strode to the front of the room. She refused to break down in front of her daughter's former classmates. She had done enough of that in her parents' house in Italy, wondering where she had gone wrong and if she would ever get the daughter she thought she knew back. "I wanted to break the news myself, so that I could be available to answer any questions you might have. So. If everyone's here, I might as well start, if that's okay with your teacher." She glanced towards Ms. Bustier, long enough to see her nod, then back at the class. "Okay. So, early last week, I first found out that what my daughter was telling me and reality didn't quite line up..."

As soon as she finished fielding the last of the students' questions and left the school, Mrs. Rossi leaned against the side of the building with a sigh. This wasn't what she had pictured her life being, not at all. Sure, she had her dream job, and was earning enough to be comfortable, but losing her husband and having her only daughter turn out to be some sort of twisted bully, unwilling to acknowledge when she was wrong, to the point where she had to be sent away...that hadn't been in her life plan. Not at all.

But there was no point in lingering too long on that unpleasantness, especially in a city where a supervillain lurked, ready to take advantage of negative emotions. She had to focus on the positives. By coming in and telling the class the truth about her daughter's stories, she had set at least one friendship on the road to repair. The entire class would no longer be subject to the whims of a bully. And perhaps most importantly in her own life, Lila would hopefully be getting the help that she needed now, in a school that had all of the resources to address her behavioral issues and do their best to correct them.

Mrs. Rossi took one deep breath, then another, then pushed herself away from the school building to head across the street to the bakery there. She wanted to apologize to the Dupain-Cheng family for the trouble that Lila had caused them and their daughter, and then- if the apology didn't go over badly, if the Dupain-Chengs didn't blame her for Lila's actions- she might purchase a breakfast pastry to go. That would be a nice start to the day, a little bit of sugar to wake her up before she returned to the embassy and threw herself back into her work.

And maybe, by the end of the week, she would have enough time to go out for lunch again. And this time- well, hopefully that lunch out would be a lot more peaceful.

#Miraculous Ladybug #my writing #one-shots #Lila downfall

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nothingeverlost · 3 years

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The Most Brilliant Idea, or how Sirius Black Accidentally became a Romance Novelist (HP, Wolfstar)

In which Sirius has a Brilliant Idea, Remus is gainfully employed, James is clueless and Lily is always right.

Unmitigated fluff with minor references to the first war, AU because James and Lily didn’t die.

It started with the classified, the first bit of proof that everything that happened was really Moony’s fault. There was always a classified ad in the kitchen, even when Moony was working, part of his optimistic opinion that any job could and would end. The classified ads were always marked in pen, and one could tell just how Remus thought his prospects fared based on how he’d marked a job. Some were viciously scratched out (potions expert and anything with ‘night shift’ in the description) some were circled multiple times (he usually came away dejected from those interviews, things he actually wanted but rarely got) some had question marks and some had a single bold circle. It was the single circle ones that were the best prospects.

On this particular Tuesday morning while Sirius drank his tea and dripped jelly on a story about Minister Fudge’s election, the only ad that was circled was one looking for a book editor. It was commission work, the sort of things Moony did from home sometimes. It suited him, both because he was such a stickler for commas and spelling and because the flexibility meant that moons didn’t present a problem. The only downside was that it was sporadic work, a book at a time, and didn’t bring in enough income to make Moony feel like he was Contributing to Household Things. Sirius always rolled his eyes. Moony was the most stubborn person he knew.

It was then that he had his Most Brilliant Idea. What Remus needed was a constant stream of editing. Someone who would keep him employed on a regular basis with things a lot more interesting than editing a technical manual on the care and keeping of flobberworms.

“Lily I need to borrow some books.” When someone had a Brilliant Idea they had to start right away, so his first action was to floo to the Potter home. He was distracted for half an hour by Harry who insisted on a hippogriff ride and a sword fight, and he wouldn’t be a proper godfather if he said no to either, but after that it was strictly business.

“The only books we have here that you don’t have are meant for a three year old. You and Remus had quite the library between you,” Lily replied after telling both him and Harry they could only have two biscuits. Sirius took a third, but split it in half so it didn’t count. After all, two and a half was practically the same as two.

“Not true. Moony and I don’t have any of those girly books,” he said with his half a biscuit in his mouth.

“You want to borrow my romance novels?” Lily asked, puzzled. “I don’t know who you’re trying to date, Sirius Black, but romance novels aren’t actually meant to be used that way.”

“Like I need help,” Sirius said with an eye roll. Sure, it had been a while since he dated but that was totally his choice. He had a lot on his plate right now with a godson that needed his attention and Moony needing looking after and his three days a week working for Quality Quidditch Supplies. “They’re for Moony.”

“Somehow I doubt he knows that.” Lily rolled her eyes right back at him. “Take as many as you like, and don’t worry about when you get them back. It’s not like I have much time for reading when I have three boys to look after.”

“Something you want to tell me, Lils?” He looked at her stomach pointedly and wondered if they were really ready for another Prongslet.

“Yeah. You and James are more work than Harry and he has the excuse of being three.” But she gave him a bag for the books and sent him home with a plate of biscuits, warning him that she would tell Remus that she’d sent them so not to eat them all in one go. It was like she didn’t trust him or something.

Once he had the books stage one of The Plan could begin. He’d read a few of the romance novels when he was bored and they seemed like the easiest book to write. Certainly they weren’t anything Moony read so he could borrow a bit from others and no one important would be any the wiser. Over the next few days he spent most of the time Moony wasn’t around reading, stashing the books in the closet so they wouldn’t be seen in case Remus came in his room for late night chats or early morning bed sharing. It was a habit that they’d never quite left behind in school, especially when either of them had a nightmare. With the war almost two years gone the nightmares weren’t as frequent but they were always a good excuse if he needed company.

Stage Two of The Plan had a few false starts, as writing a book proved to be a little trickier than he figured, considering how many books he’d read. Finally though after twenty-six days he had a story written. The pining of Sigmund G Toadsnatch for Anastasia Flower ended in a passionate snog and a happily ever after. It was time for Stage Three.

“I need your help.” The moment Moony was gone for the day he popped around to the Potter home again, this time with manuscript in hand.

“Harry managed to get jam in his hair at breakfast and I have to give him a bath. Can it wait?” Her arms were full of a squirming toddler, anxious to greet his ‘Padfoo.’

“I’ll give him a bath,” he offered.

“The last time that happened you flooded the bathroom and transfigured the soap into a boat.” She carried Harry up the stairs. Sirius followed.

“He came out clean, though. Mostly.” He might have missed a few spots, but no one was perfect and there had been an important battle with a giant squid that looked a lot like Harry’s toes to wage. “I need to know if you have any friends that have girly writing and want to earn a few quid.” He plopped himself on the edge of the tub after stowing his manuscript on higher ground.

“You need what?” it was really quite impressive how she managed to run the bath, undress Harry, and listen to him.

“Alright, so this is the part where I have to swear you to absolute secrecy. Unbreakable vow kind of stuff. You can’t tell anyone what I am about to tell you, not even James.”

“You know James and I don’t keep secrets.”

“It’s not a big secret, just a little baby one. The more people who know the more likely it is that Remus will know that people are keeping something from him and then the whole thing will be ruined.” Besides Prongs would never let him hear the end of it if he knew what Sirius was doing.

“I will consider not telling him, once I know. That’s the best I can promise.”

“I guess that will have to do.” He was certain she’d see reason, or more importantly his side of things. “Now about your friends.”

“Do I even want to know what girly writing means?”

“You know what I mean. When you pick up something and you know a girl wrote it because there’s little hearts above the I’s and the ink changes color.” Not that Lily had ever done things like that. Her writing was perfectly sensible, not that it mattered. Moony would recognize her handwriting.

“Your handwriting is pretty fancy, with all those loops and the illustrations in the margins.” Lily made a few loops of her own, sending bubbled cascading into the tub to entertain Harry.

“One of the many skills a pureblood snob is required to learn, according to my dear old mum. Trust me I’ve tried mimicking James but it’s useless.” James wrote in a barely legible scrawl that only those with practice could read. Sirius envied him, though it had led to an accident or two over the years especially in potions and what time they were supposed to meet. “But it doesn’t matter, Moony knows my handwriting and that’s the whole point. I need someone to copy over my writing so he doesn’t know it’s me.”

“I think I need more focus and perhaps something to drink. Hold on a minute, will you?” Lily finished up Harry’s bath, keeping him long enough to dry his hair but giving up when he decided to squirm out of her hold and run away without his togs on. She shrugged. “Won’t hurt him to air dry.”

“James said the same thing once. It works better in a warm house and when you’re three, rather than when you’re thirteen and it’s snowing out.” He’d won the dare, though, and claimed it was worth it.

“Yeah, I remember that. Thought he was mental then. Now I know he is.” Lily headed for the kitchen and started a pot of tea brewing. “Now please tell me you’re not trying to get me to help you prank Remus. You know my rules.”

“It’s not a prank. It’s a Brilliant Idea to help Moony. You’re going to love it.” He couldn't hold it in anymore. “I’vewrittenabook.”

“Excuse me?”

“A book. I’ve written one and I’m going to send it to Moony to edit it, and then I’m going to pay him. But he’s not going to know it’s me so he’s going to accept the money without being his stubborn prideful self. When he’s done I’ll have another story ready and then he’ll be gainfully employed and happy and he won’t have to worry about what happens to his job when there’s a moon. Brilliant, right?”

“I’m still on the bit where you wrote a book.” Lily poured the tea and set a slice of quiche on a plate for Sirius. The spinach was in small enough bits that it didn’t actually look like a vegetable and he might not notice that under all the cheese he’d actually eaten something green.

“It’s not hard. I read the books you had and I wrote something like it. Boy meets girl. One of them annoys the other. There’s secret longing and someone trying to keep them apart and then they snog and everyone’s happy except the evil bloke who ends up in a cellar or something.” He shrugged and ate the food Lily had given him without much thought. He’d been so excited about the next stage that he hadn’t bothered with breakfast. “The book’s not really the important part, though, and there have to be bits to fix or else Moony won’t have anything to do. What’s important is that Moony doesn’t know it’s me. I have to rent an owl once it’s ready and send him a letter about a job. I have a name picked out already. Marmaduke Gaylord from Gaylord’s Romantic Press.”

“I don’t know why anything you come up with should surprise me anymore, Sirius Black. It’s completely bonkers and there’s probably fifteen different ways it could go wrong.” Lily reached across the table and covered one of his hands with her own. “It’s also unfailingly kind and possibly crazy enough to work.”

“Of course it will work.” Any doubts he’d had he’d buried down deep enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about them for a while at least. Probably not until the whole thing exploded in a very Sirius-like fashion.

As it turned out Lily did have a friend that could use a little spending money and had hand writing that, while not containing any hearts, was feminine enough to satisfy Sirius and more importantly wouldn’t be recognized by Remus. She rewrote the manuscript in her own handwriting. Sirius borrowed a typewriter from Arthur Weasley to make an official looking offer from the Gaylord Romance Publishers.

Stage Four was well timed, as Moony’s job in a muggle bookstore ended that week after the third time he’d had to miss work the morning after a full moon with no explanation. Sirius had made sure he was tucked into bed with a water bottle and a cup of tea with a warming charm that would last at least an hour, then nipped over to Diagon Alley to rent an owl for a single trip. The offer letter and manuscript were bound together. For an added bit of cleverness he’d asked the clerk to delay the delivery until afternoon so that Sirius could be home when the owl arrived.

“What could be so important about a romance novel that they’d be willing to pay this much?” By afternoon Moony was feeling well enough to be on the sofa instead of in bed. Sirius glanced at the letter Remus handed him and shrugged.

“Dunno, mate. Guess there’s enough people reading them to make it worth their while. The girls at school all read them. Tripped over them all the time in the common room.”

“They’d be better off reading Austen,” Remus groused but he was also quick enough to send off an acceptance letter with the owl. Sirius had a plan for that as well, and a newly rented owl post box.

“I’ll give you some quiet to work.” Sirius locked himself in his room, using the time to start his second novel, the story of five sisters all sorted into the same house and the rich pureblood transfer student who seemed rude but was secretly shy. The prat’s best friend was cheerful and had a crush on the main character’s sister.

“Comma,” was the comment he heard the most from the other room. ‘Why’ and ‘bloody hell’ and ‘you can’t do that to the English language’ were also common exclamations.

“Sounds like it’s going well,” Sirius said when his stomach was too loud to ignore.

“It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read and the romance is dreadful but there are some bits that are hilarious, actually. Don’t know their goal but as a satire it’s not bad.” The stack of papers in front of him was all marked up in red ink worse than the first essay he’d ever written for McGonagall.

“I thought romances were supposed to be all sappy.” His main character had declared his love seventeen times. That was what girls wanted, wasn’t it?

“Fortunately I’m only supposed to edit the grammar and not the sap. I’m over my head on that sort of thing. Imelda Carson seventh year said I was the most unromantic boy she’d even snogged.”

“Imelda Carson is an idiot who is now breeding pink pygmy puffs and is completely single because no bloke was romantic enough for her. Besides you don’t like girls, remember?”

“I like girls just fine. I just don’t want to snog any of them or…”

“Smash your bits together?” Sirius offered.

“Yeah, exactly what I was going to say,” Remus said dryly. “I’m starved and close to going cross eyed from this editing. Whose turn for dinner?”

“I’ll start some steaks.” Sirius danced towards the kitchen. The Plan was going perfectly.

It seemed silly, really, to have a wonderfully written and perfectly edited novel and not do anything with it. The original plan didn’t take into account anything outside of making sure that Remus was employed, but when Sirius collected the edited manuscript from the owl post it seemed a waste to just throw it away or lock it up somewhere.

“I need a name.” It was just before lunch when he flooed to Godric Hollow, finding Harry just up from his nap and more than excited to use uncle Padfoot as a climbing toy.

“You know some people do give a little notice instead of barging in all the time. There’s a lovely front door on this house I don’t think you’ve seen in two years.” Lily winced when Harry’s foot found a foothold on Sirius’s crotch, but really the man deserved it.

“Other people aren’t nearly as entertaining as me.” Sirius winced as well and moved Harry’s foot a little higher, regretting it when the lad’s next handhold was his ear. “Now about that nom de plume.”

“I thought you were only writing so Remus could have an editing job?”

“Yes, but that’s no reason not to share my genius with the world.” He waved his manuscript over his head.

“How many times did Remus threaten to throw up while reading this drivel?”

“Only once but he edited that bit out. Not even I can be perfect my first time out.” Lily, of course, rolled her eyes for approximately the 42,596th time since she’d first met Sirius.

“If you’re serious about this we should do it properly. No more ridiculous names.”

“I’m always Sirius.” He couldn’t resist. After all the joke never got old, no matter how many times Lily groaned. “Too bad I can’t use my name. Imagine how dear old mum would roll over in her grave if she knew the sacred Black name was attached to a romance novel.”

“Sirius.”

“You’re right, Lils. If she got too excited she might reanimate and the world is not ready for zombie Walburga.” He shuddered dramatically at the thought, making Harry, now perched on his shoulders, laugh and say ‘again.’ Of course he obliged.

“Leave it with me and I’ll sort it out. I’ll have Molly redo a clean copy and send it off to Mary who’s a junior editor and a publisher. We’ll see what happens, alright?”

“This is why I love you, Red.” Sirius gave her a kiss on the cheek and handed her the manuscript so he could get down to what was really important; teaching his godson how to make bubbles in his milk.

Three months later Phaedra White was a published author. Sure, there wasn’t an enormous amount of money in a single book, but it was more than what he’d spent to pay Molly and Remus so it seemed profitable enough, and he was more excited than he’d expected to see it on the shelves of the bookstore..

In the next year ‘Phaedra’ wrote nine more books. More importantly with actual connections in the publishing world he was able to recommend Moony’s services to other authors, to the point that he began to worry that if Remus had too much work he might turn down the requests from Marmaduke Gaylord to edit Phaedra’s books.

“Get the bucket, Pads, I’m going to be ill. This is the worst thing I've ever read. Not only do I want to vomit but I think my eyes are bleeding.”

“It can’t be that bad.” His own book had arrived that morning but Sirius hadn’t known that Remus had started on it already.

“I don’t know how Gilderoy Lockheart got my name but I’m never editing a book for him again. Not only is it nonsense that clearly didn’t actually happen, but it’s badly written as well.” It was hard to tell from Moony’s tone what offended him more, but it was probably the bad writing.

“Wasn’t there a Lockheart a few years behind us in school? A gormless little thing that spent more time on his hair than anything else?” They didn’t usually pay much attention to Ravenclaws, but if he remembered correctly the boy had annoyed them enough that they’d pranked his hair blue once.

“That’s the one. What he knows about defense against the Dark Arts would fit in my little finger.” Remus pushed the manuscript away. “I can’t even look at this again until I have some chocolate.”

“I picked up a new stock from Honeydukes when I was at Diagon.” Rule number one for the care and keeping of your Moony was to always have a supply of chocolate on hand. “Why don’t you grab a bar and we’ll go out for a walk. It’s beautiful outside.”

“What would I do without you, Pads? Why don’t we pick up some curry while we’re out, my treat?” It was a plan, and they left the house shoulder to shoulder. Later that evening after he’d eaten Remus returned to his work. Sirius found him laughing, his shoulders relaxed, and not a single bucket around.

“Back at the Lockheart?” he asked.

“No, I’ve given myself a respite and picked up the latest White novel. You know this bloke is improving. It’s really kind of nice to see the balance of romance and friendship in here. Less sap and more affectionate teasing.”

“I thought that romance writer you edit for was a woman?” Sirius held his breath for a moment. Did Moony Know? He couldn’t possibly.

“I’m sure that’s what they want people to think, probably because most romance novels are written by women and I’d imagine they sell better. But I’m practically certain this is a bloke writing this. If the book centered around a flying motorcycle didn’t tip me off, the fact that the details about female anatomy are more vague than the male anatomy seems quite a clue.” Remus shrugged. “I don’t suppose it really matters, though.”

“No, I don’t suppose it does,” Sirius agreed.

“I need help.” The next morning Sirius showed up at the Potter house in the middle of breakfast, not knowing what time it was. James was still home, which was not the most favorable thing that could have happened.

“Help with what?” Prongs asked as he broke a banana into pieces for Harry.

“Nothing at all,” Sirius lied. “Just a question for Lils about a girl thing.”

“Dating someone you haven’t mentioned to us yet?” James cocked his head to the side. “It’s been a while since you’ve mentioned anyone.”

“Yeah, well it gets to be all the same after a while, doesn’t it?” Truth was he hadn’t had a date in ages. His free time was taken up with writing, and the rest of the time he was with Remus, or Prongs and his family or both. Lily had them over to dinner once a week at least, somehow thinking they couldn't take care of themselves properly. His social life worked out pretty well, except for the lack of shagging. He did miss that sometimes, but not enough to bother with finding a date.

“Not when you marry the love of your life and the most perfect person in the world.” James, of course, couldn’t help looking at his wife. Sirius was torn between wanting to gag and feeling a tight ball in the pit of his stomach that he’d never felt before.

“It’s been six years since you married her, Prongs. You are going to be a little less sappy at some point, aren’t you?” Of course considering how close they’d come to losing each other it was understandable. And Sirius was happy for them, but as a sibling it was his job to raz James as much as possible.

“If you don’t like it you do know where the fireplace is, Sirius.” Lily was careful when she stood up, her belly now heavily swollen. Potter number four was due in less than a month. “Come on, you can wash up dishes for me while you tell me what you need.”

Dutifully he followed her, ignoring Prongs’ questioning look. When the water was running he looked around to make sure they weren’t followed. “I need to know more about girls.”

“Excuse me?”

“Moony’s figured out that Phaedra White is a bloke. Says there’s not much detail about women’s bits and things in there and that it sounds more like a bloke or something. I don’t know. My first thought was that I could use some polyjuice and spend an hour as a woman but that’s a month of work just to make the potion plus it tastes disgusting.”

“I’m not going to ask why you know what polyjuice tastes like. I don’t want to know who you were or when or if my husband was involved.” Lily rubbed her stomach absently. “Your books are selling surprisingly well, I wouldn’t change things now. Besides you should know at least the basics about women.”

“I know that their breasts are nice and soft, most of them like to snog, and redheads have very good aim.” Or maybe it was just one specific redhead, who proved his point by throwing a spoon at the back of his head.

“Obviously rumors at school had to be taken with quite a few grains of salt and I know some girls exaggerated because it was good for their reputations for it to be known that they snogged the ‘great’ Sirius Black” Lily’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and she stuck out her tongue for good measure. “But you did date a fair bit, and I myself witnessed at least some snogging. Are you saying you never…”

“Did the no pants dance? Nah, girls are nice for kissing and easier for dating but for the whole naked tango I prefer a blokes ‘bits.’”

“Huh. I was dead certain about you and that Hufflepuff in sixth year.” Lily shook her head, bemused. It wasn’t like Sirius had ever hidden the fact that he liked boys as well as girls. “But if you’re here to ask me about my ‘bits’ that’s where I draw the line. We’re close, Sirius, but not that close.”

“You are the best sister a bloke could ever hope for, Lil my love, and as such that is a completely disgusting idea that I would never suggest. I was thinking you might have a friend.”

“I am not pimping out my friends to you, brother dear.”

“You try to set up Remus sometimes.” And somehow each time Remus came down sick and couldn’t come to dinner.

“I worry about Remus being alone. Do you know when he last went on a date?”

“Sometimes in the seventies, probably, and he’s not alone, he has me. What could be less lonely then having me as a roommate?” Other than a bit of time during the war he and Remus had lived together since leaving Hogwarts. It worked well for them both, and honestly the idea of Remus dating made his left shoulder blade go all tense. They took turns making dinner and washing up, cleaned the flat together on Mondays and read out bits of their books to each other as they shared a sofa in the evening. If Remus was spending his time with someone else there would be less of the enigmatic little half smile that made his day better. And at some point Moony would have to share his furry little secret and what if they took it badly and hurt him? Or worse, spread it about? Sirius would have to kill them and then he’d go to Azkaban and then Remus really would be alone. It would be a disaster.

“Sirius have you ever considered…” Lily stopped, wincing a little and struggling to pull herself up. “This little one has great aim and likes to kick mummy’s bladder. You’ll have to excuse us, Sirius. And find your own dates.”

He did find his own dates. Three of them, in the next month, and twice with the girl from the local coffee shop. And though the snogging was nice he just couldn’t get interested enough in taking it farther, not even in the name of research. Sighing he decided he was just going to have to keep doing what he was doing. Besides, having Moony suspect that a romance novelist was a man was a far sight from having him suspect that it was the man he lived with so he was still safe enough. After all who in their right mind would think that Sirius Black was writing romance novels?

When he got home from his last date he found a note stuck to his door in Moony’s careful hand. The word ‘St Mungo’s’ might have worried him if not for the ‘Baby Potter on the way’ underneath. He took a minute to change into something more comfortable, remembering that Harry had taken hours to arrive, and apparated to the maternity ward.

“You brought work with you?” Remus was already there, sitting in the waiting room with a quill in one hand and a stack of pages on his lap.

“You know how long Harry took to make an appearance. Might as well pass the time in a useful manner.” Remus looked up at him, head cocked to the side. “How was the date?”

“Bit boring, to be honest. I think I’m out of practice.” Dating used to be more interesting, but halfway through he’d found himself wishing that he was on the sofa throwing popcorn at Remus and asking about his latest book. The editing of the Lockhart book and its ridiculous lies was keeping him well entertained. “Speaking of the sprog, where is my favorite godson?”

“Lily’s friend Molly has him. The one will all the redhead kids, you remember?”

“Yeah.” Molly happened to be the friend that rewrote everything he wrote. No reason for that to make him nervous, though. “She was Gid and Fab’s big sister.”

“Yeah, she was.” It was never easy to think of the casualties of the war so Sirius tried not to think of them, not even the ones with hair and hearts like fire who he’d shagged once. Gideon had been one of his first crushes in school, and a compatriot in war.

“What are we working on tonight?” Sirius tried to take a look at his papers. “Anything good?”

“Something very frustrating, at the moment. The latest Phaedra White.”

“I thought you said her books were getting better. Seemed to me you quite enjoyed the last one.” He took great pride in the fact that he’d made Moony laugh more than once, and that it came back with hardly any notes other than the usual missing commas and split infinitives. The ending, Moony had declared, was only as sappy as was necessary for that sort of story and not bad at all.

“It’s stupid. I’m just the editor, there’s no reason for the direction of the plot to bother me so much.” Sighing, Remus put the quill down.

“I’m sure the author is grateful for your notes. You said she’s listened to them before, hasn’t she?” Of course he knew the answer. He’d written three thank you notes for changes the Remus had suggested, and every time Remus had been right. Merlin’s pants, Phaedra White was actually making best seller lists and had been mentioned in Witches Weekly twice, and Sirius wasn’t too full of himself to know how big a part Moony played in that. His publisher was trying to make him do a book signing at Flourish and Blotts, and didn’t understand why he kept saying no to the publicity.

“This isn’t the same situation. It’s not a small change to a scene, it’s the whole romance that feels wrong.”

“You read me a bit the other night, between the bloke and his best mate that made you laugh.” He’d found the byplay between his main character and his friend to be the most fun part of the book to write.

“That’s the whole problem. Byron and George have this great relationship. The scene where George is trying to convince Byron to go on the date feels almost like…”

“Like what?” There were times that Sirius totally wished he could talk through scenes with Remus while he was writing. He’d had to bite his tongue more than once when he remembered that he hadn’t sent a story to Moony to edit yet.

“Like he was trying to cover his own feelings for his friend. The chemistry between the two blokes is more natural and interesting then the bits with Byron and Melody.” Remus picked up his quill again. “Now you see why I can’t write that suggestion. I’m not about to tell someone to trash half their story and turn it into a gay romance.”

“Moony, w-”

“She’s here.” The door to the waiting room crashed open and Prongs came running out, tripping over his feet in his hurry. “I’m a dad.”

“You’ve been a dad for almost five years, Prongs,” Sirius couldn’t help but tease him.

“But never to a girl.” It was funny how big Prongs’ eyes could get. “Merlin’s elbow, I have a daughter.”

“Most of the bits are the same, mate. You’ll be alright.” Remus shoved his papers and quill into a bag and took out a flask. “I think this calls for a drink. Not too much, or Lily will kill us all, but just to celebrate.”

“You think of everything, Moons.” Sirius shouldn’t have been surprised, it was very like Remus, but there was something about drinking out of the flask immediately after Moony’s lips had touched it that felt different.

“You’re brilliant, both of you. In a minute we can all go in and you can meet my daughter.”

“Poor Lils, she’s got three kids on her hands now.” Sirius pointed to the dopey looking expression on Prongs’ face.

“I think you mean four kid, Pads. After all she has to deal with you as well.”

“Her name is Olivia Marlene.” Lily had that exhausted but happy glow of a new mother when they were let in to see her. The baby she held looked pretty much the same as Harry the first time they’d seen him, the dark hair on the top of her head and the splotchy looking face.

“It’s a good name. Strong.” Moony nodded solemnly. “Marlene would have been proud.”

“Marlene would have rolled her eyes and called me daff,” Lily said with only a hint of moisture in her own eyes. “But if my daughter is half as fierce she’ll be able to do anything.”

“Moony, ready to say hello?” James took his daughter from Lily and held her close to his chest.

“Let Sirius go first, I’ll hold her in a minute.” Sirius had been the first five years ago, when Harry had been born.

“Sirius will have his turn but it should be her godfather first, Remus.” When Lily spoke Sirius had the good fortune to be looking at Remus. The look on his face and the way his knees buckled were priceless.

“Alright there mate?” Sirius caught him around the waist and helped him to stand up again. “Welcome to the club, by the way.”

“So will you, Moony?” James looked at him expectantly.

“I think you’re mental to ask me.” But Remus carefully took the baby and held her, touching her cheek with a single finger. Sirius felt for a moment like he’s turned into liquid marshmallow, watching the two of them.

“Welcome to the world, Olivia Potter,” Remus said softly.

It was in that moment that Sirius Black, author of almost seventeen romance novels, realized that he was in love with his best friend.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave the country.” Somehow Sirius made it through the next week. He wasn’t sure how but it seemed only fair to give Lily a bit of recovery time before bothering her. A week was as long as he could wait, though, and on the eighth day he flooed over.

“That’s a bit of a dramatic reaction to not being chosen as godfather for our Olivia.”

“What? No, of course you should have gone with Moony. Brilliant choice. Probably should have picked him for Harry, bit of an unfair advantage Olivia has.” Sirius flopped down on the armchair across from Lily. “Where are the sprogs, by the way?”

“Baby’s sleeping. Harry and James are at the park so Harry can run off some energy.”

“Prongs is probably the one that needs to run off the energy. He’s walking on clouds, that one. Reminds me of the week after you finally said yes to a date.” Sirius was pretty sure James hadn’t slept for two days straight. For a week he also hadn’t shut up, even when he did finally sleep. He’d been well stuck on Lily long before they’d dated. Sirius finally had an idea of what that was like.

“Probably. Now tell me what you’re running from.” Lily put on her best getting-ready-to-mock-you expression.

“Nothing really, only the most stupid thing I’ve probably ever done.”

“I’ve seen some of the stupidest things you’ve done, Sirius. Many of them. Unless you’re going to tell me you have to flee the country because aurors are after you I very much doubt it’s as bad as you think.”

“I’vefalleninlovewithMoony.”

“I’m going to need you to actually take a breath at some point, sweetie. You’re going to turn purple if you don’t and then I’m going to have to explain to James and Harry why you’ve passed out on the floor.” Lily patted the empty seat on the sofa next to her. “Now come over here, take a breath, and tell me again what you said.”

Sirius, erring on the side of caution, took three breaths, decided that wasn’t enough, and took three more. “I’ve fallen in love with Moony.”

“Now there, wasn’t that easier to say the second time?”

“You knew perfectly well what I said.” Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You tricked me.”

“Only for your own good.” She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. “I know this bit is scary but you’re going to get through it and you’re going to do it without fleeing the country.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Maybe having a baby did something odd to your ears.

“You’ve finally figured out that you’re in love with Remus.”

“Finally?” Sirius stared at her.

“Finally,” she confirmed. “Other than this month because of your crazy idea about your books, when was the last time you dated?”

“Dunno. That carpenter maybe?” Sirius had wanted to find out just what else he could do with his hands. The answer was quite a bit. Unfortunately not so much in the brain department and even less in the sense of humor department.

“That was three years ago. What is Remus’s favorite dinner?”

“Steak with mashed potatoes and lots of gravy, popovers, peas.” It was a meal he liked to make a day or two before a full moon when Moony was feeling a bit low.

“And for dessert?”

“Chocolate, of course. I found a chocolate fondant recipe the other day I thought I might try.” Moony was happy to have a chocolate bar but Sirius liked to find new desserts to try. Moony was always pleased when there was a new dessert.

“Who is the first person you see on Christmas morning and whose present do you spend the most time picking out?”

“Moony, of course. We live together.” Last year Moony had put a ridiculous ten galleon restriction on gifts, insisting he didn’t need anything extravagant. His silly Moony hadn’t thought to specify that it was only a single gift, though. Sirius had brought thirteen, but they were all under ten galleons each.

“And when you’ve had a really shitty day who is the first person you seek out?”

“Moony.”

“And when something wonderful happens who is the first person you want to tell?”

“Moony.”

“Are we seeing a pattern yet? And before you tell me it’s just being friends let me remind you that you have created a whole career for yourself solely because you wanted to make sure that Remus had work that he could take pride in. The entire existence of Phaedra White is basically one really long love letter, which is a bit over the top even for you.”

“I’ve been in love with Moony this whole time?” It didn’t feel wrong when he said it. Maybe later he’d be able to look back and figure out when exactly it all started, but for now it seemed to be enough that it was true. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were always going to figure it out in your own time. I couldn’t make you go any faster and risk it not happening at all.” Lily kissed his cheek. “If I’d said yes to James in third or fourth year maybe we would still be where we are. Or maybe I would have written him off as a ponce and I wouldn’t have him or my babies. Things happen when they’re right, and you can’t rush them. Or run away from them.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” Remus rarely dated and never said anything about marriage. “What if I ruin everything?”

“What if he does? I don’t have the answer. I think you have to trust Remus and yourself enough to give him a chance to hear how you feel.”

“And if I fuck it all up?”

“Your friendship has survived war and betrayals and pranks gone horribly wrong, as well as seven years of sharing a dorm and about as long sharing a flat. I don’t think it’s going to fall under the weight of loving him.”

“You better be right, Lily Potter. If you’re not I’m going to be crashing on this sofa after I flee the flat in embarrassment, and I shed.”

Talking to Moony, of course, was a far too direct and logical choice. It took an hour for Sirius to decide that no, that just wouldn’t do.

“You alright, Pads?” Remus asked when he spent the second hour after he returned home pacing.

“Just thinking about Christmas,” he answered distractedly.

“It’s May, I think you have some time before you need to worry.” Remus caught his hand as he walked past. “You look like you have one of your headaches. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll give you a massage? Or I could read something to you?”

“No books.” Books are what had gotten him into the whole mess in the first part. How could he tell Moony how he felt without also confessing the whole story of Phaedra White? Why had he never considered that at some point Moony would have to know about The Brilliant Idea? “I think I might just go to bed.”

“I’ll bring you some tea, it will help you sleep better.” True to his word Remus showed up ten minutes later with a cup of tea, cream in first and half a spoon of sugar, just the way he liked. He’d valiantly tried to fall asleep in those ten minutes, but had failed completely and sat up to accept the tea.

“Thank you.”

“You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?”

“There’s no one in the world I trust more than you,” Sirius said honestly. The tea was too hot still but he sipped it anyway, knowing he’d either burn the tip of his tongue or the roof of his mouth but not caring.

“It’s a bit odd, isn’t it, Prongs and Lily having two kids now? They’re well and truly settled, like proper adults. Might make someone think about it a bit, wonder if they’re wanting something different.” Remus settled on the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling as if he could see the stars overhead.

“Do you think about something different? Finding your someone and settling down with a couple of sprogs?”

“Merlin no. That sort of life’s never been for me, even if I could find someone who wasn’t put off by my special little problem. Besides I like things the way they are. You know how much I loved marking up papers with red ink in school and I get to add commas and edit dangling participles to my heart’s content now, with the added bonus of actually making a proper amount of money. And I couldn’t possibly ever be lonely or bored with you around. If I want to play with a kid I just have to pop over to see Prongs and Lily. Seems to me being a godfather is like the best bits of being a parent without all the rest.” Remus shrugged and looked sideways at Sirius. “I always figured you’d follow James’ example at some point.”

“I would have had to start developing a crush more than a decade ago, wouldn’t I, to really emulate Prongs?” It made him stop and wonder for a moment, tea slopping over his chin as he stopped halfway to his mouth. Just when had he started falling in love with Moony? Maybe he was more like Prongs then he thought, with less of the whinging. He couldn’t remember a time when making Moony smile hadn't been a priority, or when Moony touching him hadn’t been a comfort.

“Not like that, of course. I mean the whole home hearth and family sort of thing, and making me a godfather.”

“I like my family just the way it is.” It was a little too close to the truth, and Sirius faked a yawn. “Night Moony.”

“Night Padfoot. Sleep well.” Despite being the first to say goodnight, Sirius was a little dismayed that Moony actually left his room.

The next day Sirius stopped by to pick up his post, finding a rather sizable cheque, yet another request for a book signing, and the edited return of his most recent book. Remus must have mailed it when he’d been with Lily. Flipping through the pages he found the usual red marks adding commas and rearranging the occasional unclear sentence structure, but nothing about the plot of the novel. He hadn’t made any of the suggestions that he’d mentioned at the hospital.

Sirius took the book home and read through the story again. Remus was right. The supposed romance of the story felt flat and predictable when compared to the banter between the best friends, and George was clearly nurturing a crush on his friend. He only wanted Byron to be with Melody because he thought it was what his friend wanted. It was a mess. Sirius was a mess too, but at the moment it was a lot easier to fix things for Byron and George. All he had to do was cut half the book and rework the rest to make sure two best friends realized that they were actually in love.

When he was done he sent it off to Molly with a bonus payment and a warning that he might not be needing her help anymore. She sent it back three days later with a cheerful little note letting him know that her twins kept her quite busy and while it had been fun to read his stories first she was fine with the change in things. Also it was her favorite story yet.

“I need to borrow my godson.” The day after he sent the manuscript back to Remus for editing he left the house early in the morning. He couldn’t bear to be around when Moony saw it for the first time. Better to let him read it and get it all over and done with at once, no matter what way it came out.

“You’re not back on the fleeing the country plan, are you? Because you can’t take Harry to Spain.” Lily raised one eyebrow.

“Why would Sirius flee the country?” James held his daughter but stared at Sirius in confusion. “You didn’t actually break into your cousin’s vault at Gringotts, did you?”

“I decided anything Narcissa owned would probably have cooties. Not worth the risk.” Sirius shrugged. “I won’t even take him out of the county, Lils. I promise.”

“Pads? Lily?” James pushed, not having a clue what was happening but suspecting that his wife knew a fair bit more.

“Not now, Prongs. I’ll tell you tomorrow if the world doesn’t crash around my ears today.”

Lily, fortunately, said yes and Sirius was able to mostly distract himself with a trip to the zoo and far more ice cream than an almost five year old and a twenty-five year old should eat. He returned Harry in time for tea but warned Lily that he probably wasn’t very hungry.

“I’m proud of you,” Lily said before he left, kissing his cheek.

“I’d probably be proud of you too if I knew what the bloody hell was going on,” Prongs added, kissing his other cheek. Sirius said thank you to them both, decided against the floo, and apparated home. He sat on the front stoop for half an hour before daring to open the door. The flat was completely silent.

“Moony?” Maybe he wasn’t at home. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the package or had been too busy to read it today. Maybe he had read it and had run for the hills. Maybe he hated it and hated Sirius and was in his room packing for a trip to Zanzibar. For a minute he worried that Moony really was gone because the flat, even Moony’s room, were empty. The last place to check was what they grandly called the balcony, which was really just a fire escape with a upside down rusty cauldron as a seat and a single pot with a dittany plant they barely kept alive. Moony sat with his back to the wall, looking out at the view. They were lucky enough to be on the side of the building that looked out over a park rather than another building.

“Hey.” He settled on the sill of the open window, which was the only other place to sit but also meant that Remus couldn’t go anywhere without stepping over him, which could come in handy. “How was your day?”

“I read a book.” Moony didn’t look at him. Sirius couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all, other than that he looked like he should be smoking. They’d both given it up when Harry was born, though, and that went double now that Oliva had come along.

“Yeah?” He took a deep breath and waited.

“Yeah. I thought it was weird, at first. It’s the same Phaedra White book I just edited, and I thought it was a mistake until I got through the first couple of chapters and it’s been completely rewritten. I didn’t say anything about the story to anyone, other than you, but it was like they looked inside my head and saw how I wished the story had been written. George was so certain that Byron was going to propose to his girl but instead there’s this scene, this magical scene where Byron says that he couldn’t fall for Melody because he was already in love. That it had been George all along. Sometimes your best mate is also the love of your life.” Remus was still staring down at the park and Sirius wanted to shake him, or beg him to turn his head, or just kiss him and take his chances that Moony wouldn’t throw him over the side of the balcony.

“Do you think that’s true?” he asked. “Even when the best mate is a complete disaster who might be keeping a secret or two, but only because they want their best friend to be happy and not have to worry about anything?”

“Do I think that Byron and George are in love?” When he finally turned, Moony had a perfectly inscrutable expression on his face, the one he used in school that let him tell McGonagall that he didn’t know anything about a prank that had in fact been his brainchild. When he used it on anyone else it made Sirius smile. Facing it himself was agonizing.

“Do you believe that sometimes your best mate can also be the love of your life?” He’d channeled everything he felt and thought into Byron. Remus set a great store in books and the written word, and Sirius hoped that maybe works written in black and white would make his argument for him.

“I think the hardest thing to believe is that I could possibly be that extraordinarily lucky.” With the blink of his eye Sirius could see all the vulnerability Moony had been hiding. The hope and the fear, the trust and the love. The love he saw there knocked the breath out of him.

“Merlin, I think you just scared five years off my life, you were that hard to read.” He pulled himself through the window and squatted in front of Remus. “Do you really think you could love me?”

“You deserve to be scared, you bloody git. You had me secretly editing books you wrote and somehow you became an author for the lark of it.” Remus rubbed his forehead, like he did when something was puzzling him or the writing of something was particularly confusing. “I’ve been in love with you for ages, Pads, and I find there’s generally very little thinking involved. It’s a simple fact.”

“I don’t think there’s anything simple about it.” Sirius Black was the author of seventeen and a half books, and it seemed to him there was only one possible option for what came next. He kissed Moony, of course. Kissed him like Byron had kissed George, like Psych had once kissed Cupid and Darcy had kissed Elizabeth. The kiss had been brewing up inside him for some time and he did not stop until the air was gone from his lungs. And then he said the words that he planned on repeating every day for the rest of his life. “I love you Moony.”

“I love you too, Phaedra White.”

Sirius groaned, and laughed, and kissed his Moony all over again. It was Absolutely Brilliant.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic #sirius black #sirius x lupin #remus x sirius #harry potter fic #my fic #remus lupin #lily potter #remus lupin x sirius black #maurader fic #everyone lives #or at least the important people

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magnetictapedatastorage · 3 years

Link

I’ve started keeping a list of questions, remnants of a past life that I now need a beat or two to remember, if I can remember at all: What time do parties end? How tall is my boss? What does a bar smell like? Are babies heavy? Does my dentist have a mustache? On what street was the good sandwich place near work, the one that toasted its bread? How much does a movie popcorn cost? What do people talk about when they don’t have a global disaster to talk about all the time? You have to wear high heels the whole night? It’s more baffling than distressing, most of the time.

Full text of the (excellent) article is under the cut. (The Atlantic, March 8th, 2021)

I first became aware that I was losing my mind in late December. It was a Friday night, the start of my 40-somethingth pandemic weekend: Hours and hours with no work to distract me, and outside temperatures prohibitive of anything other than staying in. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to fill the time. “What did I used to … do on weekends?” I asked my boyfriend, like a soap-opera amnesiac. He couldn’t really remember either.

Since then, I can’t stop noticing all the things I’m forgetting. Sometimes I grasp at a word or a name. Sometimes I walk into the kitchen and find myself bewildered as to why I am there. (At one point during the writing of this article, I absentmindedly cleaned my glasses with nail-polish remover.) Other times, the forgetting feels like someone is taking a chisel to the bedrock of my brain, prying everything loose. I’ve started keeping a list of questions, remnants of a past life that I now need a beat or two to remember, if I can remember at all: What time do parties end? How tall is my boss? What does a bar smell like? Are babies heavy? Does my dentist have a mustache? On what street was the good sandwich place near work, the one that toasted its bread? How much does a movie popcorn cost? What do people talk about when they don’t have a global disaster to talk about all the time? You have to wear high heels the whole night? It’s more baffling than distressing, most of the time.

RECOMMENDED READING

There’s No Real Reason to Eat 3 Meals a DayAMANDA MULL

The Pandemic’s Future Hangs in SuspenseTHE COVID TRACKING PROJECT

A Quite Possibly Wonderful SummerJAMES HAMBLIN

Everywhere I turn, the fog of forgetting has crept in. A friend of mine recently confessed that the morning routine he’d comfortably maintained for a decade—wake up before 7, shower, dress, get on the subway—now feels unimaginable on a literal level: He cannot put himself back there. Another has forgotten how to tie a tie. A co-worker isn’t sure her toddler remembers what it’s like to go shopping in a store. The comedian Kylie Brakeman made a joke video of herself attempting to recall pre-pandemic life, the mania flashing across her face: “You know what I miss, is, like, those night restaurants that served alcohol. What were those called?” she asks. “And there were those, like, big men outside who would check your credit card to make sure you were 41?”

Read: Sedentary pandemic life is bad for our happiness

Jen George, a community-college teacher from Cape Elizabeth, Maine, told me she is losing her train of thought in the middle of a sentence more and more often. Meanwhile, her third grader, who is attending in-person school, keeps leaving his books, papers, and lunch at home. Inny Ekeolu, a 19-year-old student from Ireland, says she has found herself forgetting how to do things she used to do on a regular basis: swiping her bus pass, paying for groceries. Recently she came across a photo of a close friend she hadn’t seen since lockdown and found that she couldn’t recognize her. “It wasn’t like I had forgotten her existence,” she told me. “But if I had bypassed her on the street, I wouldn’t have said hi.” Rachel Kowert, a research psychologist in Ottawa, used to have a standing Friday-night dinner with her neighbors—and went completely blank when one of them recently mentioned it. “It was really shocking,” Kowert told me. “This was something I really loved, and had done for a long time, and I had totally forgotten.”

This is the fog of late pandemic, and it is brutal. In the spring, we joked about the Before Times, but they were still within reach, easily accessible in our shorter-term memories. In the summer and fall, with restrictions loosening and temperatures rising, we were able to replicate some of what life used to be like, at least in an adulterated form: outdoor drinks, a day at the beach. But now, in the cold, dark, featureless middle of our pandemic winter, we can neither remember what life was like before nor imagine what it’ll be like after.

To some degree, this is a natural adaptation. The sunniest optimist would point out that all this forgetting is evidence of the resilience of our species. Humans forget a great deal of what happens to us, and we tend to do it pretty quickly—after the first 24 hours or so. “Our brains are very good at learning different things and forgetting the things that are not a priority,” Tina Franklin, a neuroscientist at Georgia Tech, told me. As the pandemic has taught us new habits and made old ones obsolete, our brains have essentially put actions like taking the bus and going to restaurants in deep storage, and placed social distancing and coughing into our elbows near the front of the closet. When our habits change back, presumably so will our recall.

That’s the good news. The pandemic is still too young to have yielded rigorous, peer-reviewed studies about its effects on cognitive function. But the brain scientists I spoke with told me they can extrapolate based on earlier work about trauma, boredom, stress, and inactivity, all of which do a host of very bad things to a mammal’s brain.

“We’re all walking around with some mild cognitive impairment,” said Mike Yassa, a neuroscientist at UC Irvine. “Based on everything we know about the brain, two of the things that are really good for it are physical activity and novelty. A thing that’s very bad for it is chronic and perpetual stress.” Living through a pandemic—even for those who are doing so in relative comfort—“is exposing people to microdoses of unpredictable stress all the time,” said Franklin, whose research has shown that stress changes the brain regions that control executive function, learning, and memory.

That stress doesn’t necessarily feel like a panic attack or a bender or a sleepless night, though of course it can. Sometimes it feels like nothing at all. “It’s like a heaviness, like you’re waking up to more of the same, and it’s never going to change,” George told me, when I asked what her pandemic anxiety felt like. “Like wading through something thicker than water. Maybe a tar pit.” She misses the sound of voices.

Prolonged boredom is, somewhat paradoxically, hugely stressful, Franklin said. Our brains hate it. “What’s very clear in the literature is that environmental enrichment—being outside of your home, bumping into people, commuting, all of these changes that we are collectively being deprived of—is very associated with synaptic plasticity,” the brain’s inherent ability to generate new connections and learn new things, she said. In the 1960s, the neuroscientist Marian Diamond conducted a series of experiments on rats in an attempt to understand how environment affects cognitive function. Time after time, the rats raised in “enriched” cages—ones with toys and playmates—performed better at mazes.

Ultimately, said Natasha Rajah, a psychology professor at McGill University, in Montreal, our winter of forgetting may be attributable to any number of overlapping factors. “There’s just so much going on: It could be the stress, it could be the grief, it could be the boredom, it could be depression,” she said. “It sounds pretty grim, doesn’t it?”

The share of Americans reporting symptoms of anxiety disorder, depressive disorder, or both roughly quadrupled from June 2019 to December 2020, according to a Census Bureau study released late last year. What’s more, we simply don’t know the long-term effects of collective, sustained grief. Longitudinal studies of survivors of Chernobyl, 9/11, and Hurricane Katrina show elevated rates of mental-health problems, in some cases lasting for more than a decade.

I have a job that allows me to work from home, an immune system and a set of neurotransmitters that tend to function pretty well, a support network, a savings account, decent Wi-Fi, plenty of hand sanitizer. I have experienced the pandemic from a position of obscene privilege, and on any given day I’d rank my mental health somewhere north of “fine.” And yet I feel like I have spent the past year being pushed through a pasta extruder. I wake up groggy and spend every day moving from the couch to the dining-room table to the bed and back. At some point night falls, and at some point after that I close work-related browser windows and open leisure-related ones. I miss my little rat friends, but I am usually too tired to call them.

Read: The most likely timeline for life to return to normal

Sometimes I imagine myself as a Sim, a diamond-shaped cursor hovering above my head as I go about my day. Tasks appear, and I do them. Mealtimes come, and I eat. Needs arise, and I meet them. I have a finite suite of moods, a limited number of possible activities, a set of strings being pulled from far offscreen. Everything is two-dimensional, fake, uncanny. My world is as big as my apartment, which is not very big at all.

“We’re trapped in our dollhouses,” said Kowert, the psychologist from Ottawa, who studies video games. “It’s just about surviving, not thriving. No one is working at their highest capacity.” She has played The Sims on and off for years, but she always gives up after a while—it’s too repetitive.

Earlier versions of The Sims had an autonomous memory function, according to Marina DelGreco, a staff writer for Game Rant. But in The Sims 3, the system was buggy; it bloated file sizes and caused players’ saved progress to delete. So The Sims 4, released in 2014, does not automatically create memories. PC users can manually enter them, and Sims can temporarily feel feelings: happy, tense, flirty. But for the most part, a Sim is a hollow vessel, more like a machine than a living thing.

The game itself doesn’t have a term for this, but the internet does: “smooth brain,” or sometimes “head empty,” which I first started noticing sometime last summer. Today, the TikTok user @smoothbrainb1tch has nearly 100,000 followers, and stoners on Twitter are marveling at the fact that their “silky smooth brain” was once capable of calculus.

This is, to be clear, meant to be an aspirational state. It’s the step after galaxy brain, because the only thing better than being a genius in a pandemic is being intellectually unencumbered by mass grief. People are celebrating “smooth brain Saturday” and chasing the ideal summer vibe: “smooth skin, smooth brain.” One frequently reposted meme shows a photograph of a glossy, raw chicken breast, with the caption “Cant think=no sad .” This is juxtaposed against a biology-textbook picture of a healthy brain, which is wrinkled, oddly translucent, and the color of canned tuna. The choice seems obvious.

Some Saturday not too long from now, I will go to a party or a bar or even a wedding. Maybe I’ll hold a baby, and maybe it will be heavy. Inevitably, I will kick my shoes off at some point. I won’t have to wonder about what I do on weekends, because I’ll be doing it. I’ll kiss my friends and try their drinks and marvel at how everyone is still the same, but a little different, after the year we all had. My brain won’t be smooth anymore, but being wrinkly won’t feel so bad. My synapses will be made plastic by the complicated, strange, utterly novel experience of being alive again, human again. I can’t wait.

ELLEN CUSHING

is the special-projects editor at The Atlantic.

#health

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bcbdrums · 3 years

Text

Chilly

Well, I hit severe writer's block and I'm trying to force things out now. This is an excerpt from a longer fic that otherwise is just in my head. This is rated M. I repeat, this is rated M for mature content!

AO3

FFn

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The icy chill of the morning air over her cheeks was what caused Shego to wake. As she blinked into the gray light the air even chilled the surface of her eyeballs, and she hastily closed her lids over them again. It even seemed that her eyelashes were cold, and she wondered what the temperature of the air was.

She couldn't feel the end of her nose for how chilled it was, and she pressed it into Drakken's chest where he still slept soundly. Her shoulder was cold too, and she slid her fingers out into the icy air to tug the blankets up higher, and then pulled her cold hair over her exposed cheek. Her teeth wanted to chatter in the chill that had woken her so early, but she clenched them in resistance. In addition to the cold, she was suddenly aware of how tired she was. She wasn't about to move her face to check the time on the small bedside alarm clock, but she was certain from the gray light that it was too early. Unless the light was simply a result of the storm clouds that had sent snow unrelentingly to the ground since the night before.

Whatever the reason, she only wanted to warm up and get back to sleep. She pressed nearer to Drakken and burrowed deeper beneath the blankets, her mind falling blank... Until it wasn't. Her ankle still throbbed from her fall the day before, and the coddling she had received from Drakken's mother wasn't helping the situation. She was already uncertain about the trip to Drakken's childhood home, but Estelle's fawning was too much for her on a regular day. Now that she wasn't able to walk, it would be even more-so. She hoped the hour was as early as it felt, because she hoped to stay in bed as long as possible to avoid the coming smothering.

Just then, Drakken shifted. She held still, hoping he would remain asleep and that she could enjoy at least another hour of peace. But his shifting continued and something hard and familiar pressed against her middle. Her face flushed despite herself; she should have been used to it, after over a year of being with him. But never knowing which mornings were going to produce that result caused her blush. Also, his continued shifting.

She remained still despite the heat that was flushing her face, like daggers against the chill of the air. But Drakken finally blinked tiredly and with a bit of disorientation into the guest room they were occupying. She watched him glance around to find his bearings before looking down at her. His brow furrowed lightly.

"You all right?" he asked through a yawn.

"Cold," she responded, the telltale chatter of her teeth betraying her.

His yawn settled into a mischievous grin. "Well, I know a foolproof way to warm up."

He slid over her and between her legs, his cold dry lips fastening to hers. Shego's breath caught at the intensity of the kiss, and she pulled the blankets up higher over Drakken's back and held them there with her arms around him. His fingers wove into her hair on either side of her head and he began trailing kisses over her cheek toward her ear. She glanced over at the alarm clock and saw that the time was just a trick of the cloud cover.

"We only have an hour before breakfast..." she said, gasping as he began sliding his clothed nether regions against hers with very deliberate purpose.

"We have an excuse..." he murmured, his breath gratefully hot against her skin. Her brow rose, but he continued. "I am spending quality time with my bride..."

Shego smirked. "I haven't been a bride for months."

"We never said the honeymoon was over..." he said, kissing the other side of her neck as one of his hands went between them to undo the buttons of her pajama shirt. His fingers were icy against her skin, and she shuddered.

"We took an entire month... Just how long do you want this honeymoon to last?"

He grinned happily at her before kissing down her chest. "Oh, at least a year..."

Shego chuckled. "If that's the case, you've been slacking some mornings."

Drakken leaned over on his side and she knew he was tugging off his bottoms. She held the blankets down over her bared chest, her skin already responding to the cold.

Drakken's grin grew more wicked. "Oh, I can remedy that."

She laughed as his head vanished beneath the blankets and then felt her own bottoms being removed. And then his warmth was gratefully covering her again as his hands and lips attended the flesh of her chest. She held the blankets up with one set of icy fingers, while the others moved to undo his shirt buttons. He wasn't wrong about this warming them up...

"But we only have an hour..." she protested practically. She had no basis for suspecting his mother would walk in on them, but it was a fear she had been wondering since before their arrival at the house.

"Mmh... If we're very loud, I think everyone will get the idea."

Shego's jaw dropped. "D-Drakken..." she stuttered from the cold, rather than shock.

"Besides, my mother would only be more excited over the prospect of—"

He stopped short, and suddenly intensified his attentions to her chest. She pulled the blankets higher, almost covering his head as her expression fell to melancholy.

Almost a full year of trying had resulted in nothing. And Drakken knew she dearly wanted a baby... He was the more optimistic of the two of them, as it was beginning to seem impossible to her. Their last conversation about it hadn't ended well, and he was trying not to bring it up anymore for her sake. It had been an honest slip in that moment, but the thought had been brought to the front her mind.

Of course, Drakken's increased amorousness was helpful in shifting the topic out of her thoughts. And she knew he was doing it to make her forget, and she was grateful.

He shifted and his foot bumped her injured ankle, and she hissed in pain. His eyes flew up to hers in worry.

"Sorry!"

"Mmh," she muttered, biting back the deeper hum at the pain the innocent bump had caused. "Come here."

His smile returned as his warmth fully covered her. She slid her arms under his shirt and around his back, and he shuddered at the touch of her icy fingers.

"You...going to leave your bride freezing like this?" she quipped, her lips still shaking from the chill.

His smile grew as he leaned on his elbows and his fingers wove into her hair again, one of his cool palms resting on her flushed cheek. He kissed her sweetly as he completed their union, and her breath caught. He really was right... Months later, and still each time was like they'd never left their honeymoon bed.

"Let me know when you're warm enough," he whispered.

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kur0mimi · 3 years

Text

Lights Out

—A High School AU of AKIRA, where Michiru decides to go home with Jin to avoid getting caught up in the intense rainfall. And their time spent together progressively gets more comfortable and tender. (pt. 1 of 2)

pairing - Michiru (my OC) and Jin (@neoghoulukaku OC)

genre - High School AU, tooth-rotting fluff, slice of life, comedy, smut (in pt. 2)

warnings - cursing, sexual undertones (progressively gets more smutty in the next part of this), and mentioning of eating disorders

a/n - hey! I have finally gotten around to post some of my new one shots that have been cracking up so much space, this one being more ✨spicy✨ anyways, I don’t have much to say but I hope you like this and stick around for part two because wow, it gets interesting 😌

The image of a strangler and a 14th century barbarian was in the vessel of a 21st century materialist who taught math class at the Eighteenth District high school. Hana Hayasaka was unfortunately Michiru’s dreaded cousin who continued her brutal onslaught of arithmetic torture on the students she was teaching. She was a modern day brutalist, walking on water like she was a contemporary dictator who danced to the song of her pupil’s groaning and moaning at the sight of a new equation being written on the board. This woman was no god, so where was Michiru’s? She didn’t have one. But a lover, perhaps?

He sat beside her, his onyx eyes narrowing incredulously at the quadratic equation being written on the board in front of him. Jin Takahashi had beautiful kaleidoscope eyes that were such a dark, mysterious colour as they peered off into the distance and into the hearts of his victims, or better known as the people that irked him on a regular basis.

Michiru was more than happy to sit beside her beloved boyfriend, as they had gone past the phase of stumbling over their words. She no longer needed to rationalize too much when thoughts were running through her mind as she held hands with him. And as far as she could tell, the only thing clutched in his hand was the pencil that was threatening to break with how irritated he was at the sadistic teacher.

‘That pencil is gonna break if he keeps squeezing it like that,’ The girl with the wavy black hair observed as she sipped orange juice from the small juice box she had snatched from the cafeteria not too long ago. She looked at her finished notes and sighed, squeezing the now empty carton between her slender fingers. Michiru knew her current situation was rather lacklustre, but comfortable. She wasn’t the type of person that would roll in mint leaves and cigarette smoke, waltzing out the back door to skip class and out to the moonlit streets of the urban nightmare they were all civilians of. She was a student who wanted to study political science and civics in order to achieve the position of a politician of Neo-Tokyo, and perhaps by then she would be able to fix the wretched neon jungle.

“Junko, my dear, can you tell us what another name for the slope is?” The female ruler’s voice rang throughout Michiru’s ears as the class grew silent, the only sound being the queen bee’s foolish stuttering.

“...Aren’t y-intercept and the slope the exact same thing? They both have a curve, right...?”

From the lonely bust of one of the female students came a muffled scream trapped beneath the marble and polished stone of her fake persona. Oh, Junko must’ve been livid, raging on the inside like her matriarchy as one of the most popular females had fallen. And it kind of did, but at least now there was less of a bullying issue and no more petty drama going around. Hana smirked mockingly as she sat on her desk, tapping the stub of chalk against the wooden surface of it as she eyed the young girl who had humiliated herself by stating the wrong answer.

“You’re wrong, darling,” Hana cooed gently as she stood up, wiping the white chalk dust from her pencil skirt. “Very wrong, in fact. Have you been paying attention? I don’t think bouncing on a boy’s me-“

“Mom, that’s enough. She got it wrong, just let someone else answer,” Ranze spoke up in a reasonable tone, trying to rationalize with her mother’s passive aggressiveness that broke the room in half with the amount of tension it created.

“Ah, of course!” The older woman backtracked as she turned to Nimura, sitting in between Setsuko and Aiko in the middle row of tables. “Hasegawa-san, give us another name for the slope.”

Nimura didn’t bat an eye as he looked up, meeting Hana’s gaze in a nonchalant manner that made some peer’s breaths hitch softly. “Delta y over delta x, Hayasaka-sensei.” He recited in an articulated and eloquent way of speaking, to which the teacher clapped her hands with delight.

“Such a smart boy! Junko-san, write down what he said as well as some other examples we’ll mention shortly.” Hana praised him as she patted him on the head, making the young prodigy cock his head in confusion while looking over at Ranze, who lifted her shoulders up into a shrug. “Michiru, darling, do you want to try?”

“y2 − y1 over x2 − x1 is another way of saying it, Hayasaka-sensei,” Michiru said gently as a faint smile ghosted her lips, a typical mannerism of her’s that made the girl so effortlessly irresistible.

“Correct once more! Highly expected of you two, anyways,” The totalitarian of a teacher turned around wrote down the two examples on the board, and it was there that Michiru could finally look back over at Jin, who seemed to have already been staring at her.

“I guess death doesn’t befit the ‘queen’,” Jin remarked with a quiet, almost stifled snicker as Junko was shaking in her anger, the person who reigned supreme in the school was now slowly descending to her death, which by she would be regarded as un paysan.

Michiru giggled, covering her mouth her hand to not draw attention to herself and Jin. “I don’t believe she deserved that title, anyway.” She responded gently as she tucked a strand of her ebony locks behind her ear.

“She’s building her own coffin, like the trash she fucking is,” The male teenager said bluntly as he sank back into his seat, looking at his paper with his eyelids dropping tiredly. Michiru couldn’t lie about not liking the way he looked when she saw him like this. So relaxed yet somehow still observant with his surroundings, and by looking at him, her various thoughts accumulated to the point where they hard to keep track of.

They were filling up her mouth and pouring out her eyes with her hesitant, soft glances. And they scraped the back of her throat and made her teeth start to rot with the sweetness they were filled with, but she could never make these feelings make sense. She could never make them come out in letters, only in affectionate touches, delicate eye contact, and hugging her pillow in the latest hours of the night.

She wasn’t intoxicated by any means, of course not. This was the feeling that made her dance in the rainy streets late at night to sweet songs about typical mediocre things. The water would pour onto her Prada shoes and frilled socks as she lived her life the she way she wanted to. She wanted to be alive, that was all.

While there was Ranze, the less innocent of the two and was a femme fatale in all her glory. A cigarette between her fingers while she curled up on the wooden deck chair that one time that they were alone, watching over the early city from the balcony of her apartment. Her sunglasses were almost on the tip of her nose. Her bare, boney legs pulled up to her chest. The mattress on the floor was unmade and two empty bottles of alcoholic substances were placed adjacent to it. And then the ravenette would leave every morning, putting on her shoes and buttoning up her uniform. Proceeding to travel the city like it was her own backyard.

Michiru wished she could have the confidence and intensity that her older relative did, perhaps if she did she would’ve been even more unstoppable. Her past was framed by white borders, overexposed metaphors tacked to a bulletin board. Hiding beauty behind cork, and behind her concentration for schoolwork was candidness and generosity—perhaps an accidental masterpiece? Many told the joyful girl that she looked too happy, but little did they know she was like that because her future was developing. And if she remained optimistic, would there be a reward waiting for her at the end?

The baleful lightning struck again from the outside as the rain pattered down aggressively, only for the bell to ring soon after. It was there last period for the day, physical education. Michiru stood up and packed her bags, placing her items in her leather satchel that had been adorned with pins of favourite shows and characters. She watched Jin stand up and place his items in his backpack, before snapping his gaze to the smaller girl, who had been watching him for a while at that point.

He smirked, his teeth shining through the small opened space of his mouth. “What are you looking at?” That rogue and badass visage made Michiru’s face flush red as she squeezed the empty juice box in her hands. “You kept looking at me for the entire duration of class. Do you need anything?”

Within plein-air, Michiru’s sensitive flesh felt foolishly exposed to drastic warmth as she walked beside him, exiting the classroom with a nod to the teacher. ‘Love proliferates like nettle down the throat,’ she thought as she moved closer to him, the side of her arm touching his with a brisk movement.

“Well... It’s been raining aggressively all day and I’m hesitant to go home alone,” Ah, they were truly pointless excuses. Jin could read through them so expertly and clearly, so what was the point of reciting pathetic inquiries? Was this all just to make her look less desperate in front of the others? Michiru didn’t even know what she wanted, but the seemingly innocent thought of spending more time with Jin was simply too good to be true. “I’ll just be honest with you, I simply wanted to know if I could come home with you and wait out the storm.”

She watched Jin’s eyes widen a bit, his eyebrows knitted together with astonishment as he looked into her large brown ones. He knew underneath those precious doe-like eyes were not perverse hidden secrets preserved within her intelligent mind. He would lament to believing she wanted such obscene things from him, morbidly, passionately, and pathetically.

“You want to come to my apartment?” Jin reiterated in disbelief as he ran a calloused hand through his spiky black hair. Any sort of unwarranted stirrings from either of the parties would create an imminent onslaught of awkwardness and stiffness for the both of them, an absolutely horrendous possibility neither of them wanted to look into. “You can, but it’s going to rain all night. Won’t your parents or Mamoru be worried if they didn’t see you come home before your curfew?”

Michiru pouted, looking down at the floor. Jin’s glare had softened when the smaller girl was around him, making his scowl (widely perceived as iniquitous) dissipate into a tranquil expression of well-hidden warmth and compassion for the girl he considered to be so important to him. “It’s Friday... So I could always say that I’m at Ranze’s, perhaps she would understand and play along...”

Jin didn’t know what Colonel Shikishima and Atsuko thought of him. Did they believe he was a ruthless, merciless depiction of a delinquent with an unquenchable thirst for sex and wanton attraction for their daughter? Perhaps a Beelzebub slathered against the odious death stare he had given his enemies.

That didn’t matter now, though. The older boy stopped in his tracks, reaching to cup her porcelain cheek—a fleeting yet fulfilling gesture that Michiru never grew tired of when he displayed that beautiful rarity of tenderness. His thumb lightly grazed over her skin gently as he eyed her carefully, his voice dipping down into a lower volume reserved for solely Michiru and Michiru only. “Ranze would be livid if she heard about you coming to my place. I don’t know how we could get away with it, she would do anything to catch us in a compromising position, Mimi.”

Michiru’s face flushed a deep vermillion as Jin backed off, a grin tugging at his lips as the beautiful girl stood like a deer in headlights after the sudden action. Her eyes of luminous glass glimmering with an innocence that was far too real. She exhaled a bated breath, her heart beating in a shallow and slow manner.

Bruised with verbatim, Michiru nodded with a sheepish smile. “I’m sure she isn’t always going to gate-keep what we’re going to do. I’ll ask her in the locker room and see how things pan out.”

Jin took a deep breath, slinging his bag over his shoulder while the other hand clasped his girlfriend’s hand. “I’ll leave the talking to you, then. And if anything goes wrong, I’ll talk to her. There’s no way she can get through me.” He scoffed as he opened the double doors to the gymnasium, followed by Shosaku cocking his eyebrow at the couple incredulously, appearing to have been listening in on on the couple haphazardly.

“Don’t fucking tell me he’s gonna bring you home now...” The promiscuous teenager with the bleached strand of hair remarked wryly, a foolish smile painted on his face that quickly dissipated when Jin glared at him viciously. “Heh... Jin, buddy, don’t look at me like that.”

The teenager rolled his eyes, ushering Michiru to go on ahead of them. “Babe, you go on ahead and get changed. Class is gonna start soon, anyways.”

“Okay, then!” She replied quickly and eagerly before whipping her head back around to look at Shosaku. “Shosaku-san... What do you mean by that?”

Shosaku lowered his voice to a mere whisper as he huddled closer to Michiru. “Well, Jin has had a record of being a playboy—“

“I said get going! Class fucking starts soon, so get a fucking move on, Sho!!” Jin’s voice boomed from behind them, making the two scarper within the blink of an eye.

2:15 pm

In the girl’s locker room...

Michiru’s heart yearned for what it had been robbed of for so long, a fulfilling life to live. Her soul yearned for the feeling of the crucifix the extremists had nailed into her mind and soul years ago to be pulled off of her. The blood had dried by the present day, congealed itself rotten for good. Ah, yes, the wound had finally crusted over. She was ready to commit herself to more important things than religion—schoolwork, her political aspirations, and her social life.

Inklings of her fellow female peers had started to re-emerge, traces of their idle conversation drifting into her ears, radiating a topic Michiru had been so uneducated in—oddly enough, she was smart and had a detailed analysis on everything, but this was different in many ways.

“Kira, is that a hickey? Offer us an explanation, please!” Mariko probed at her friend as she unbuttoned her blouse, revealing her own revealing plethora of obscene marks that made Michiru nearly turn her head around to gawk at the sight—but she kept her distance, nonetheless.

“Yeah~ Ryuji and I went out at last night and he took me home. Then the rest is just history, I don’t even remember what we did!” Kira replied in her typically air-headed fashion, shrugging as she slipped her t-shirt over her head. “Sex with him is so good, anyways. I was seeing stars because of how hard he went.”

“Aww, does that mean I get to see him next? I haven’t had a good session since a couple months ago with Yusuke,” Makoto whined as she tied her basketball shoes, making the other girls erupt with their hideous cacophony of chortles.

Have these girls ever dreamed of having sex in a finer light? Had they ever dreamt of anything remotely respectable in the slightest? Definitely not. This was the divide between Michiru and her friends and Junko with her posse of idiots. Their reckless souls were so carelessly merged with what they were doing after hours, almost like they were yearning for even more attention...

“Mimi, you keep blanking out. Do you need me to take you to the infirmary?” Suddenly snapped the motherly voice of her older second cousin, Ranze, who placed a warm hand on the shoulder of the smaller girl in a reassuring light. Oh, this was just like home as well, a twisted home where the soul only revisits to feel that sweet burning sensation. To set itself aflame, to ignite.

“Oh, I’m fine. Thanks for asking...” Michiru murmured gently before slipping her shirt over her head, before combing her digits through her wavy black locks of hair. “By the way... Can I ask a favour of you, Ranze?”

“Hmm? Yeah, shoot.”

“Can you cover for me in front of my parents and brother? I’m going to Jin’s house for the night, that’s all—“

Ranze threw her gaze back to Michiru with great ferocity, looking at her with immense suspicion and thinly-veiled worry. “I’m imagining things, right? Have I gone entirely mad?” The older ravenette was speechless as she sat down onto the bench, pulling her hair back into a ponytail while the honour student shrugged carelessly.

“Can you do it? I promise, I’ll get you whatever you want afterwards. And you know Jin, he’s not going to hurt me in any way, shape, or form,” Michiru pleaded as she folded her hands together for extra effect, the precious twinkling in her eyes making Ranze grunt. “Don’t give me that. I’m not going to be the youngest forever... So please, just let me go with him!”

The femme fatale sighed, throwing her hands up in defeat. “I know I can’t play god and tell you both what to do... But goddamn, I’m really unsure of this, Mimi. Can you at least promise that you’ll call me every other hour to check in?”

“Ranze, you know I can’t keep track of that—“

“Do you want to go?”

“Okay, fine...! I’ll do what you want, just please don’t say anything to my mother and father. Especially Mamoru too,” Michiru wrapped her thin arms around the older girl, enveloping her in a sugary sweet embrace that made Ranze’s heart melt.

“I won’t. Your secret is safe with me, Mimi,” Ranze rubbed her relative’s head affectionately before rising to her feet and stretching. “Just please assure me I won’t have to swing by and bring you a spare change of clothes.”

2:46 pm

She looked in every direction and corner to spot Jin in that noisy gymnasium. She had spent the first twenty minutes of her exercise period skipping rope on her own. Her legs were already sore, a phantom of fatigue biting her limbs and beating heart as she bent over to catch her breath from the cardio. Although Michiru thrilled the anticipation of seeing Jin doing his own thing, the lovely sentiment of catching him lifting weights fuelled a fire inside of her. It was a thrill she couldn’t understand in any way. It was so strange as the burning feeling in the pit of her stomach didn’t leave, not even one bit.

She felt around for her water bottle before picking it up and taking a generous swig of water, then stood up and to walk to the weightlifting station where Jin resided—lifting what appeared to be a heavy set of weights, at least to Michiru it was. The curious girl sat down in from of him by the mirror, gnawing at the inside of her cheek as her clouded eyes watched him with such interest. Perhaps she was magnetized to him- that surely could’ve been the case.

But it was the loveliest just being able to pause her own exercises to check on her boyfriend, who’s eyes travelled down to the slender form of the beautiful girl who sat in front of him.

“You’ve come to...” Jin inhaled, curling the weights to his chest as his eyes remained steady on the person in front of him. “...check on me? How’d your workout go?”

“It went well. Skipping rope is fun but it gets repetitive after 20 consecutive minutes,” She replied cheerfully, her pupils wandering to the clique of degenerates that collected near the benches. “But better than not exercising at all, I suppose.”

The respect for those girls and boys had forsaken itself, but Michiru even wondered if she ever had it to begin with. How she even lose something she never had to begin with?

Even so, Michiru revered the sense of comfort that eased within her when she was around the overtly honest boy. It created a sense of comfort that made him feel like home. And if that were the case, would she feel homesick for him?

She watched the tendons and muscles in his arms flex each time he lifted the weights a final time before putting it back on the bar. Jin situated himself by the younger girl with the bright brown eyes, hissing slightly at the soreness in his muscles. What she had to face was a life to live despite her frail form. She only wanted him, he was her personal inferno in a sense.

Wait, what? Something like that sounded so strange to her, as she had never felt such an intensity of emotions when she was around Jin. It was strange... too strange if she were to put her finger on it. But what was she to do?

She tenderly wrapped her arms around his neck, tucking her face into his nape as he chuckled quietly. She prayed for more tenderness, the tenderness that would rip her away from the cruelties of the world and from the melancholia. Tenderness, her ticket to euphoria.

“Ranze said she could cover for us,” Michiru muttered against the fabric of his shirt, to which Jin turned his head to look back at his significant other with disbelief in his eyes. “On one condition: she wants me to call her to check in at every other hour. But other than that, it’s all good.”

“I see...” Jin heaved out as he wrapped an arm around Michiru, situating his hand comfortably on her hip. This was her love language, the feeling of his firm yet tender touch across her skin made her shudder subconsciously, to which Jin tilted his head. “Are you cold?”

“No... Not at all, actually,” She was drowsy at the thought of him. Angels above, gods above had nothing on him. It was just strange how hypersensitive she was to all of the attention.

“Mhm... Right,” Jin regarded her words with a small nod before looking off into the distance, his eyes foggy with tiredness. “I’m surprised it didn’t take that much convincing. The two of us are frenemies, but it’s to the point where I can’t do any shit alone with you because she’s so suspicious.”

“I’ll be honest with you, I’m starting to be irritated with it,” Michiru confessed, pressing her cheek up against his damp shirt. “But thankfully she’s starting to back off more recently, it’s just that I would really like it if she didn’t treat me like a child constantly...”

Jin looked away and toward the ticking clock on the wall in front of them. “She told me she’s at least happy that you’re content with me and that I’m content with you.. She knows I’ll take good care of you so she shouldn’t be too worried,” He muttered as he cracked his knuckles. “As for her treating you like a kid... I could why see you would be fed-up with it, but you’re younger than her and she sees you like a little sister. She just wants you to be out of harm’s way.”

A thunder encompassed the sky in that moment, the booming crackle of it making Michiru nearly jump out of shock to which Jin rubbed the small of her back in order to stabilize her. The dimmed lights above the students flickered unnaturally, some of them almost immediately giving out. The storm was going to drown them in its fiery onslaught, and it was only fifteen minutes before they could get out of that dumpster fire of a school.

“Don’t tell me I have to drive home in this weather!” Kaisuke complained as he fell back onto the gymnastics mats, to which Setsuko shrugged nonchalantly beside him.

“We can carpool, then,” The docile student offered, making the others look at her with anticipation. “I’m being picked up by Suzuya, so perhaps we can stop and drive you all home as well.”

Jin sighed as he looked over to the girl hugging his side, a soft figure with wavy hair like water from the flowing waves of the sea. His eyes were alight with hidden affection, as on the outside he had thick skin and wouldn’t show sweetness towards anyone except for her. Incandescence was rising between the rogue biker and the demure young lady as she enveloped him in her gentle warmth. “I’ll finish my final set and we can get going. How does that sound, babe?”

“Sure, that works,” She whispered, the volume of her voice not disguising how excited she was to spend more time with him. There was no divine plan she was following, perhaps she wanted to grow closer to him. Michiru didn’t have any divine figure that she was going to trust, she was only going to let things happen as the afternoon went by.

3:35 pm

At Jin’s apartment...

It was always a reoccurring thought to Michiru when it came to wondering what sort of environment Jin lived in. But as she stepped into the dormitory, she felt as though she had gotten around to experiencing some sort of paradise—not luxurious by any means, but still comfortable and safe, with him.

The dull, white tones of his room had been haunting her mind as she looked around, her wide eyes fixated on the various band posters, workout equipment, and other paraphernalia that decorated the living space. The way he kept his apartment was reflective of his personality and to Michiru it seemed to be everlastingly beautiful.

She removed her Mary Janes and placed them beside Jin’s sneakers, walking around the room aimlessly as she admired the various articles of decoration that made the room so unique. Whilst Jin placed his backpack on the kitchen counter, turning to flick the lights on but to no avail as the power had gone out.

“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath as he rummaged through the cabinets to look for a flashlight or some sort of candle to illuminate just a sliver of the dark room. Michiru looked out the window, the divinely dark sky, the indigo flashes of lightning ripping at the sky, and the lush atmosphere she had been placed in. To her it was like peace personified, there was pure safety and security surrounding her briefly. And for a moment, she’d hadn’t realized the power had been blown out. “I’ll get some sort of flashlight or candle so we can actually see what we’re doing. You have a change of clothes for yourself, right?”

“Yes, I do. I have some for after gym class to go home in,” She responded as she took out the aforementioned article of clothing before looking around for a private place to change. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down there and to the right,” He replied as he pulled two candles from the cabinets under the sink.

Michiru nodded in acknowledgment, silently thanking him for his help as she quickly moved to the room, opening the door and shutting behind her, locking it. Carefully, she undid the buttons on her shirt and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall onto the tiled floor and pooling at her ankles.

Her ebony curls were damp and not as neat as they were when they were dried. And her lips, cheeks, and the tips of her ears were stained a fruit punch pink as she looked at herself in the mirror briefly. Her body curved and sloped like a mountain, gripping the slung juts of her waist as she looked down.

It didn’t seem that long ago when she wasn’t allowing herself to eat, as it only made up months and years of slow, albeit steady recovery. With the occasional relapse during her darker periods of loneliness. Michiru was still starting to grow to love herself just a little bit more, even if it was slow and there were rough patches, she had realized a fraction of what she couldn’t see while her eyes were filtered that pessimistic film. With the help of her close friends and family, she had time to recovery—even if she still suffered meagre remnants of it.

‘Ranze wouldn’t want to see me being insecure now. She just wants me to be happy,’ Michiru thought as she chuckled quietly when she slipped the white dress over her head. She gathered up her clothes and exited the washroom, putting the soggy uniform in her bag before looking over at Jin, who had already gotten changed into a black tank top and a grey sweatpants and was folding his gakuran. In that moment, he looked up at her and she could see his eyes widen a bit.

She was wearing a sleeveless white dress that reached just a little bit above her knees and had frilly accents on it. Perfectly dainty compared to the other themes of the room as the delinquent’s face flushed a deep crimson, clearing his throat as he looked away, a typical mannerism of his.

“Michiru...” He began, scratching the back of his neck as he sat on a chair adjacent to his bed that had one of his leather jackets thrown onto it. “You look really good...”

She sat down on the floor beside his bed, throwing her head back and smiling infectiously. “Thank you, Jin.. I appreciate it.”

Jin nodded silently, opening his mouth to add to what he had just spoken. “You don’t need to sit on the ground, you can sit on my bed if you’d like.” He offered as she looked at him, lips fresh and dewy with the remnants of her lip balm that she had purchased from the local drugstore. She gladly pulled herself onto the bed and sat down, breathing in the cold air slowly.

Her cheekbones were flushed pink as she looked up at the ceiling, as the feeling of the bed dipping under Jin’s weight when he laid down beside her. Michiru hummed in response as she threw her arms around him, running her slim fingers through his hair as he started to relax.

“I didn’t know you had a dartboard,” Michiru murmured sweetly as Jin wrapped his arms around her waist, his grip secure and safe. She dragged her pink nails across the skin of his back lightly as the brutally honest teen chuckled.

“Yeah, I do. I use it to vent out my anger sometimes,” He said as his dark eyes softened when he looked into her’s, a very faint smile tugging at his lips. “Why bring it up?”

“I was just curious. But now that I see how good your aim is, I’d really like to go up against you.”

“You really want to?” Jin’s smirk grew impossibly wider at the prospect of playing an innocent game of darts with his precious girlfriend.

“Of course! I do archery so I think you have some stiff competition here, Jin.” He could throw his head back and laugh, the streak of competitiveness in her making him amused.

‘She’s too fucking gentle for this world,’ He thought as he pulled away from her, going to the wall to pull the array of darts from the board for them to play.

3 notes · View notes

onlyhorn · 4 years

Text

► Name ➔ “The name’s Argus. Just Argus. “ Do you have a family surname? “ Just Argus. “

► Are you single ➔ " Yeah. “ ( Though, this is verse dependent. There are several people he’s grown very fond of. )

► Are you happy ➔ " You could say I am. “ ( He’s still wracked by plenty of grief in his main verse, but he’s certainly happier than he was originally. )

► Are you angry? ➔ “ Let’s just skip this one. “ ( He’s got a lot to be angry about. )

► Are your parents still married ➔ " Wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen them in years. “ ( Or spoken to them, in that matter. This goes for both main verse and crossover verse. )

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “ I was born in a hidden village. It’s gone now, so don’t bother lookin’ for it. “ ( in his crossover verse was born in Tokyo. )

► Hair Color ➔ “ Red. “ ( You have eyes, don’t you? )

► Eye Color ➔ " Also Red. Do you have eyes? “ ( I think so. )

► Birthday ➔ " It’s been too long... But it’s [November 5th], not like I celebrate it that much anymore anyways. “

► Mood ➔ “ People call me a pessimist a lot. I like to think of myself as a pseudo-optimist. “ ( That’s not a thing, Argus. You’re just depressed. )

► Gender ➔ “ Male. “ ( The pinnacle of himbo. )

► Summer or winter ➔ “ Most people would think I prefer summer, but I actually like the cold better than the heat. At least in the cold, I can wear more layers and feel all cozy when I’m wrapped up. “ ( He’s very susceptible to summer heat. He hates sweating. )

► Morning or afternoon ➔ “ A nice sunrise is always good to see. “

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ “ Maybe. “ ( Verse-dependent )

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “ I’m not exactly a believer in the whole ‘love at first sight’ thing. I’d prefer having a relationship with someone I grow to care for, not just some random person I just so happen to meet. “ ( He’s demiromantic for a reason. )

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “ Never been in one. “ ( Or rather, he never had the chance to be in one. )

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “ I’ve probably broken a lot of hearts. “ ( This unironically applies to both his modern verse and main verse, for two completely different reasons :)

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “ I’m not afraid of commitment. I’m afraid of breaking promises. “

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “ ... Yeah. I have actually. “ ( Thanks, @somniamity )

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “ ... Well. “ ( modern verse, he’s literally got an entire fandom around his existence. In his main verse, there’s Raina. )

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “ Way too many times. I’m surprised I’m still alive, honestly. “

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “ Love. Lust isn’t really my thing. I also ain’t too fond of harems. “

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “ ... Hm. That’s a question easily answered by whether or not I’m feeling particularly sour that day. “

► Cats or Dogs ➔ “ Have you ever just scratch behind a cat’s ears and watch it fall asleep in your hand? It’s cathartic. “

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “ Not really sure what this question’s supposed to mean... but maybe that’s just because I never really had a lot of friends. “

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “ A bit of both, I guess. Though, having peace and quiet’s always nice. Adventures are cool, but I wouldn’t want to end up overexerting myself or the person I’m with. “

► Day or night ➔ “ The moon’s got a particularly beautiful glow to it. “

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “ Yeah, plenty of times. Though the one time it would have mattered the most, I was never caught, and they never looked for me. “

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “ .... Wait-- how do you fall up stairs? No, seriously, how are you supposed to- “

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “ A damn reason why my life was turned into a nightmare would have been nice to get earlier. “ ( This is mostly his main verse, though, modern verse Argus doesn’t really want anything other than making people feel better about themselves. )

► Wanted to disappear ➔ “ Ha. “ ( Mostly his main verse. In Modern, it’s more of just.... stay out of sight of the paparazzi's )

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ “ Smiles. There’s something beautiful in seeing someone who never smiles do it for the first time in a while. “

► Shorter or Taller ➔ “ ... Honestly speaking? I don’t mind either way. “

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “ I really don’t mind either way. I’m not the smartest, but I don’t have a preference as far as that goes.”

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “ Relationships. Easily. Hook-ups aren’t my thing. “

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “ No. “

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “ I’d really rather not talk about it. “

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “ Yup. It’s how I ended up like the train wreck I am now, heh. “

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “ I might as well have been. “

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “ No. I can’t be mad at them, no matter how much I want to be. “ ( Main verse, mostly )

► Do you consider all of your friend’s good friends ➔ “ Yeah. I’d say the ones I have right now couldn’t be any better. “

► Who is your best friend ➔ “ Probably Eira. “ ( Though this is for main verse -- modern verse, he doesn’t really have a ‘best friend’. )

► Who knows everything about you ➔ “ The only person who knows that much about me is probably Eira. Maybe Sera. Maybe. I don’t know how much research she does on me on a daily basis. It’s.. kinda’ creepy. “ ( Main verse, mostly. )

ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @more-than-a-princess ( i love u )

ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ: u!

#[🎕] Life finds a way to get better. | IC.#[👿] The Besmirched Berserker. | MUSE : ARGUS.#[🎕] Admittedly I don't like talking about myself... | HEADCANONS.

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shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 4 years

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10. Bathroom wall a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova (Part Two)

Finally, that Donna Summer song is over… Although disco is not my favorite genre, I have nothing against her generally but now… the part in which she’s repeating “Hot-hot-hot-hot stuuuuff” reminded me of the sound of the rototiller which would break down in every single winter and my grandpa would always have to try for hours and hours to breathe life into it in spring. And the music was also way too loud in comparison to the fact the clientele of this place consists mostly of exhausted truck drivers who only want to chill to Chris Rhea’s Road to Hell. If they wanted noise, they would go to a strip club to see Miss North Carolina ’86 dropping her clothes to something from AC/DC. Probably Highway to Hell. Variations on a theme. But probably this little dump doesn’t even have a proper strip club.

Luckily, this shabby roadhouse has a separate room for pool tables; it’s pretty hidden and easily approachable without being noticed. Not that I don’t like hanging out with the guys… okay, that’s also a part of it, we’ve been basically locked in a tour bus, concert venues and hotel rooms since last September. We’re each other’s company all the time, the only place where I can spend a few hours by myself is basically the ever-changing setting of my incoherent dreams. Only mentally, of course, since basically there’s always someone snoring around. And of course, they also keep showing up in random scenarios and with people they don’t even know but that’s the point of dreams, your brain forces you to put jigsaw puzzle pieces together that don’t match. Or they do, you just don’t know about it… Long story short, there’s no way to get rid of these dudes… Okay, it sounds as if they annoyed me… shit, they do annoy me more and more often and I hate this feeling. We’re basically friends; we wouldn’t be able to play in the same band if we didn’t get on well. But before we started touring, we’d all had our own circles including friends and colleagues, different hobbies, natural habitat… and music and the band had been only the intersection of them. We met when we had to do something as a band, we spent time together to write songs, rehearse, record… and in the remaining time, everybody lived their own life. That we don’t have anymore.

Usually, I try to not see only the dark side of this situation but now, I’m not feeling able to put on a smiley face. Maybe the fact that my whole digestive system is burning doesn’t help either… I bought a cola at the gas station next to the bar and smuggled it in under my jacket. That’s the only piece of advice of the doctor that is also useful under tour circumstances. I mean, I can’t just drop everything and lie down when the pains are coming, I can’t spend my evening sitting on the loo when I have to play a gig and who cares about diet when you can’t even eat or sleep on a regular basis? But cola is always there, no matter where I am. It’s the only thing that eases my nausea effectively and isn’t very conspicuous at the same time. And this one is as cold as ice, it feels good to press the bottle to my stomach as I’m crouching in fetal position in this armchair. Although the doctor probably wouldn’t approve, I spiked it with a few drops of rum. To be honest, they were bigger drops but I finally wanted to empty my flask. I decided to give up drinking spirits, beer makes me unpredictable enough and mixing drinks only fucks my digestion up too.

“Here you are, finally! I knew you were somewhere here too!”

So much for hiding…

“Hi, Karrie…”

“Man, you’re missing the best parts… some local chicks started courting the guys, they even got them to dance…”

“Awesome…”

“Mike, can you hear what I’m telling you? I said the guys were made to dance… I mean, the guys such as Jeff, Dave and Stone… and dance, like, moving the body rhythmically to the music… Although the girl who picked Stone had a difficult job…”

“Let me guess: she failed.” I remark in a bored voice and shake the bottle in small circles not to waste a drop of my drink.

“Mike? Is something wrong with you? Normally, you would basically drop everything and rush there to see the end of the scene but… yes, something’s wrong with you...” she answers her own question with a concerned face sinking down slowly onto the other armchair.

“I’m fine…” I mumble as I embrace my knees and lean my chin against them.

“Mike, I haven’t known you for a long time but I’m pretty sure that sitting alone curled up like a hedgehog is not your normal state. The pains, again, right?”

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

“I don’t like being taken for an idiot. Ninety percent of my job basically consists of watching every move of yours and trying to figure out your needs before you would even think about them. Do you think I haven’t noticed you’re suffering?”

I should have known. She usually stays in the background, doesn’t meddle in the business of the others but she’s all ears and eyes… she knows everything about us.

“All I know is that it must be something with your stomach or intestines… I don’t know exactly how serious it might be but it seems to be serious enough to be treated…” she goes on ignoring my stubborn silence. “Have you already seen a doctor? Have you already been diagnosed?”

I’ve seen several ones. I have a diagnosis. But I doubt she wants to hear the detailed description of my medical history, in particular the analysis of that delightful feeling when objects are being put up into your butthole.

“Do the others know about it?”

Oh, sure… like the inexhaustible source of Stone’s stupid anal jokes needed any feeding…No, thanks. And enlightening the others about the fact that pissing in the corner and running around naked aren’t the only sorts of accidents happening with me from time to time isn’t one of my top priorities either.

“Look, Mike, you’re an adult. Legally, leastways. I can’t tell you what to do and I’m finished with the heart-to-heart, I promise but… come on, all I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel ashamed and you can live a quality life whatever your problem is, for example Effie…”

“Effie?” I try not to sound like a maniac but I almost kick the table over as I jump back in regular sitting position. “You mean she…?”

“Hasn’t Judy mentioned it?”

“What?” I ask so far as I’m able to speak at all due to the lump in my throat that grew out of nothing of the mere mention of her name.

“She’s been waiting for new kidneys, or at least one new kidney for months. It’s pretty difficult to find a suitable donor for her… but she’s optimistic, as always. And also angry a bit but it only helped her move on.”

“May I ask… what happened to her? I mean, I understand if it’s not public or…” I try to form coherent sentences, which is not that easy at all after this shock therapy.

“It’s not a secret, it’s the result of medical mistakes.” she starts telling the whole story. The chain of her ordeals is more than simple misfortune, and honestly, as I’m trying to recall that compelling but still playful voice, it’s difficult to believe her life depends on permanent medical help. “…and that’s where we are now.” she finishes with a deeps sigh.

“Poor girl…”

“She’d cut your throat if she heard you. She hates being pitied and tries to keep her life in the normal track very hard, limits and obstacles have always annoyed her… but she’s not that kind of girl to whom you can explain that life can be complete without sky diving, rock climbing or space travel too.” she shrugs with a bittersweet smile.

“Does that mean she keeps going on with her studies and…”

“That’s the problem. She’s suspended her studies, gave up her student jobs but she’s already regretted it. And Annie, I mean, her mom is overconcerned and wants her to rest and stick around until the transplantation will have been carried out. And that’s one of the reasons why I recommended Judy as my replacement…”

“They need money…”

“Yup. But the point of my coming up with Effie’s case is to make you understand you’re not alone, having an illness is not a shame but I hate clichés so I rather shut up. I don’t want to lecture you, I would just feel guilty if I didn’t even try to talk about it with you.”

“I have already heard so much about her… do you have a picture of her or something? I’m curious… I mean, it’d be nice if I could connect a face to all those awesome stories…” I hear myself talking. Gaah, I don’t want seem to be pushy or a psycho stalker but I need to see her face.

“Uhmm, I used to keep a few family photos in my wallet, if you’re lucky I still have them…” she begins to rummage in her purse. “Ah, here it is. But no, that’s an old one.” she puts the picture back before I could take a look at it.

“NO, I WANT TO SEE IT.” I grab her forearm. “Please…?” I soften my voice seeing her puzzled expression. So much for avoiding deranged behavior.

“She was like seventeen when it was taken, it’s the yearbook photo from her senior year I guess.” she hands it to me.

I don’t know what I was expecting or if I was expecting anything at all but one thing I know: I wasn’t prepared for THIS. Judy mentioned she was blond and had blue eyes and normally, I would pair this combo with a Barbie-type girl in my imagination. But she’s everything but a Barbie-doll, her clear, shining, honest eyes stare into the camera with some cautiousness but if you examine her face carefully enough, you can discover hints of impishness playing around her lips and those tiny freckles around her nose and her skin that was still wearing the last kiss of late summer sun when the picture was taken… Jesus ‘Cready, you’re not a poet, you’re not even sane. Yes, I must have lost my mind, I’m hearing music in my head… “Drea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream…”

“Mike… Mike… Miiiike…” I find myself in the reality again when Karrie snaps a couple times with her fingers in front of my face. And I realize I didn’t grow a DJ in my mind, the song of Everly Brothers is actually playing in the bar.

“I take this now back, I found another one.” Karrie has to basically disentangle my clenched, grabby fingers from the photo but my eyes are still glued to the face in it, greedily collecting the tiniest details until it disappears in the wallet. “Here.” she pushes the other picture in front of me. “It’s from last year, I think, her hair is curlier here but that’s her natural look, she doesn’t have it straightened too often.”

The second photo gives that human tornado, that young woman clearly back whom I’ve imagined so many times since that very phone call and of whom now I know that she’s officially out of my league. It’s definitively confirmed, not that I had any chance to meet her in real life or at least talk to her again…

“You know what? You should consider talking with her about it. I think she’d understand it better than any of us.” Karrie remarks casually while sliding the pictures back into their place.

Oh. Yes. Sure. Why not call this angel to tell her I’m a disgusting pig who doesn’t have the slightest control over his metabolism, lets out disgusting sounds involuntarily and shits in his pants at least once in a week. Yes, that’s something I would totally chat with her about…

“It’s just an idea, I’m sure Judy would help you find a way to get in contact with her… of course, only if you want to…”

“Houston, we have a problem… Karrie… there’s a situation… we need you…” Scully basically falls into the room breathlessly.

“Jesus, what happened?” she jumps up terrified.

“It’s Judy… you should go after her…” he gasps pressing his hand against his right side. “I’ll tell you on the way…”

“Sorry Mike, we’ll talk about it later…” she shouts back on leaving.

At least my interrogation is over and I can spend some time alone since the others seem to be busy with that “situation”, whatever it is… Maybe I could practice pool tricks, I still haven’t given up my goal to beat Stone at least once in this lifetime. Even if we aren’t playing against each other, he keeps bothering me with his sarcastic comments and doesn’t let me try things in my own way, I can’t really improve my pool skills when he’s around.

After playing a few rounds against myself and winning, of course, I realize the pains have almost gone… It’s so weird, you immediately notice discomfort but you’re always unaware of the lack of it for a while, especially if you manage to direct your thoughts on something else. I guess I should look for the others, I hope Judy’s okay…

“Sorry” an unknown female voice addresses me with a short cough “have you got light?”

***

„So… what’s the plan?” Dave asks leaning on the counter with his elbows facing towards the tables.

“What plan?” I ask back positioning myself in the same way to be able to take a look around.

“For the evening… with the ladies.” he winks meaningfully.

“I don’t know… I guess we’re just hanging out. But why are you asking me? It is you and Jeff who are allowed to have any plans with any ladies… I have a beautiful girlfriend at home, remember…” I answer and I feel my lips pulling in a wide grin; I can’t help, I’ve developed this instant reaction that occurs whenever my gorgeous blondie is on my mind.

“How could I forget… you’d never miss an opportunity to rub this fact in our face. Anyway, Jeff doesn’t seem to be interested in them either, for obvious reasons…”

I squint at the pinball machine where the two second fiddles whose names I’m simply unable to recall are trying to break their personal records. I don’t really get why they think screaming helps them keep the ball on the play field but at least they prevent Jeff from falling asleep; he’s suppressing one yawn after another while stealing glances alternately at the basketball match on the TV screen and the table around which Scully, the slightly deranged leader of the girl bunch and our pocket-sized roadie are having an apparently deep conversation.

“He shouldn’t torture himself, his obvious reason doesn’t give a fuck about his awkward performance.”

“You can never know. Maybe she ignores intentionally that he’s ignoring her intentionally. But I guess you’re happy about it, the super professional band leader who’s against within-band hook-ups…”

“You know my opinion…” I shrug. “Just think about Fleetwood Mac and what happened to them.”

“Uhm, they became a world-famous top rock band?”

“You’re right! Come with me in the restroom, NOW!”

We both burst out in a dirty, tipsy laughter and it takes a few minutes until we calm down enough to be able to speak again.

“So, what are your plans?” I nudge him still shaking of warm-down snorts from time to time.

“I guess if the dynamics don’t change very quickly in the opposite direction, Jeff will vanish in less than ten minutes… and I’ll have to sacrifice myself and keep both chick entertained in the rest of the evening. But I don’t mind, they’re both cute.” Dave takes a sip of his beer wiggling his eyebrows satisfied.

“Both chick? What about… Caledonia?” I nod towards the black-haired alpha female of the trio.

“Her name is Claudia, geez man, you’re hopeless… but no, thanks, her behavior reminds me of that psycho woman in Fatal Attraction too much.” he frowns. “Stoney, be a man and do what you gotta do.”

“…which is…? Jesus, I’m not interested in any random girl I encounter and as you said, she’s totally insane, while we were dancing…”

“… while she was dancing…”

“… I felt as if I had been caught by a boa constrictor that was squeezing me tighter and tighter and I swear, it must have been an extended, super long version of Hot Stuff, I thought it would never end, like, it was at least three minutes longer than usual…” I go on since I’m not willing to react to his undisguised reference to my dance talent.

“Just go back to her, have a polite chat with her and say bye in half an hour… maybe I can keep Jeff here and you can use each other as excuse for leaving. I’ll be here and keep an eye on you and in case she gets out of control, I call the local herpers to catch her.” Dave presents his concept about the strategy I should follow.

“Herpers against herpes, it sounds like the name of some non-profit organization... Okay, approved but if I start yelling “red code”, you launch the rescue operation, that’s the signal.”

“Just go finally, the sooner you begin, the earlier you can get out of here.”

I grab my beer and walk to the small company around the table but as soon as I arrive, all its members fall suddenly silent.

“What’s up, Scully? Hi Claudia.” I greet them and get a dark look from the third person whom I’m trying to ignore to get away with the situation as simply as possible.

“Scully… what kind of name is that at all?” Claudia mutters listlessly; for some unknown reason her energetic behavior has gone; she’s playing with her hair bored leaning her face against her palm.

“There are some who call me… Tim.” Scully uses the occasion to crack a Monty Python joke.

“Tim the Enchanter.” I finish the quote basically swallowing the last syllable since I hear the other girl uttering the same words simultaneously.

“Is that some inside joke of yours?” Claudia mumbles unwillingly.

“Kind of.” I answer in the same style. “But his real name is Timothy, that’s the truth.”

“Anyway, these weird nicknames are pretty common in your crew. Scully… Stone… I wonder how you got this one.” she goes on in a monotonous voice. It’s strange, she doesn’t sound like someone who feels like having a conversation at all. Maybe she’s that depressed type of drunk.

“Guess what: from his parents.” the annoying little smartass answers instead of me raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Your name is almost as bizarre as you.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. I don’t mind if she spares me an uncomfortable talk and leaves me alone before I would ditch her but why is this turnaround?

“Judy, you promised you were going to play foosball with me! Come, the tables are finally free!” Scully jumps to his feet pulling his colleague by her hand.

“What? I didn’t promise anything, I…”

“Come on, you have a mind like a sieve, of course you did! We could invite the others too and you could teach us those mind-blowing tricks!” he drags her enthusiastically in the direction of the foosball tables; she seemingly protests a little but finally gives in and follows him reluctantly.

“Uhm… I hate to admit but she’s a first-class player.” I speak up with a sentence I didn’t want to say at all but the urge to break the awkward silence was strong enough that my mind forgot to look for better topics.

“Wow.”

Gosh, I’ll need anti-depressants, if she goes on like this.

“I everything okay?” I try to look in her eyes. “I mean… you seemed to have fun when you came over, you even danced… but now… I mean, if it’s a private thing, you don’t have to answer…”

“Stone… you are a really nice guy and all, handsome, actually funny but… I don’t think we would match.”

Thank God. But something I can’t explain makes me ask for the reason instead of confessing I’m not available anyway.

“Oh. I see. And… what makes you think we’re too different?”

“I don’t know… there are just so many antagonistic characteristics… For example, I don’t like animals. I mean, I just can’t get on well with them, I don’t even like watching documentaries on them.”

“I love them, I have a cat called Red and I love dogs too, my family has always had dogs. But I know there are people who feel strange when animals are around, I’m okay with that… what else?” I inquire; the suspicious feeling keeps telling me something’s not okay here, something’s FUCKIN’ not okay here. Maybe if I ask further questions, I get closer to the reason of her behavior.

“I don’t eat red meat at all.”

“Haha, then we have something in common. I have vegetarian phases from time to time and I’m right in the middle of one. I have nothing against meat but I only consume them at special occasions.”

“But that’s the point, I hate these special occasions!” she blurts out passionately. “And I loathe even the smell of beef, let alone touching it.”

“I repeat, I can live without it.” I laugh. “And… your concern about differences is really sweet but I have to tell you something: I have a girlfriend at home, we’ve been together for months so…”

“I know! And you’re so lucky to have someone who accepts you the way you are, even if your taste is everything but ordinary and…”

Let’s wait for a second… how does she know about Amber? And what’s this babbling about my quirky style? And what was this madness about animals and meat? My mind switches to replay mode and I try to recall the moments of the evening double-time… I see ourselves arriving, them coming to our table, us dancing to the fast-forward version of Hot Stuff, them disappearing in the restroom, them getting back from the restroom and joining Scully and J…STOP! Her. That. Little. Shit. It could be only her. She must have said something about me, something crazy shit, because that’s what she’s doing all the time, she tries to turn everybody against me and ruin my reputation and… Okay, first I have to get rid of Claudia, it’s not her fault, after all.

“Thanks for saying that, it’s very nice from you. And I’m sure, sooner or later you’ll find a guy who really fits you. I hope I didn’t hurt you but I don’t really like to talk about my private life. But I guess my friends enlightened you about the details to avoid misunderstandings…” I squint at her playing the gentle refusal routine. If my presumption is correct, it’ll turn out here and now.

“Oh yes!” she jumps on my words immediately. “Judy told me everything. She cares about you a lot, she’s such a good friend!”

“She is.” A good friend of cheap tricks and pretended innocence. But she’ll pay for this. “Her problems are usually similar to mine so we are pretty much on the same wavelength.” Whatever it is, I throw the shit back at that viper. “But this is so awkward and I don’t want to waste your time so… I wish you all the best and good luck with guys!” I stand up already thinking about medieval methods of torment I would gladly try on that two-faced dwarf.

“Thanks… and be happy with that lucky girl!” she sends a saddish smile and I feel guilty for a second for leaving her alone right when she stopped playing the role of the tempting seductress. But while I’m walking to the foosball tables, my thoughts are going back to my unfinished business with that hypocrite, mean…

“No, Scully, the point is in the right angle, look, I don’t shoot the ball until… hey, Scully, you’re not even watching… oh.” she suddenly falls silent and flushes as she follows the gaze of the pale, petrified guitar tech in my direction as I arrive to them. He was obviously trying to save her ass but I don’t blame him, he hates fights, he probably feels being between two fires.

“You know what? I’m also dying to learn more about your little tricks.” I stop at the foosball table with folded arms.

“Oh my God, I love tricks.” Claudia’s enthusiastic friend chirps from the other side of the table. “What? I do love them!” she whines not decoding the strict face the third member of their bunch sends at her after nudging her to finally shut up.

“S-sure, I gladly show them to you too…” the manipulative little beast stutters.

“Face-to-face.” I cut her off in my coldest voice and I can basically hear how hard she just swallowed.

“Ugh… let’s look for Jeff and Dave.” Scully steers the two confused, reluctant friends of Claudia out of range basically tossing them towards the bar counter.

“So, what do you want to know?” she asks almost cheerfully; what an acting performance.

“Oh, I want to know a lot of things… if aliens exist… where the other half of my favorite pair of socks might be… what’s the equivalent of blushing at chameleons… why Claudia suddenly started treating me as if I was a leper…”

“They do. Probably in Jeff’s suitcase. You can’t embarrass a reptile. Maybe she has finally seen the light…” she lists her answers shrugging nonchalantly. “But I guess it’s a relief for you, so we’re happy now, huh?”

“It depends. I wonder if someone helped her out with some useful information about me…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about… not that it matters as for the result…” she starts spinning the sticks in the table for no reason, since no one else is around, it’s probably just a pathetic excuse for avoiding eye contact.

“You know, I like to decide on my own with whom I want to spend my time.”

“Do you absolutely exclude the possibility of other people feeling the same way? What if she just didn’t enjoy your company?”

“That’s not impossible but the marvelous change in her behavior makes me think something happened either in the restroom or at the table… and guess what? You were there the whole time too.”

“Are you stalking me? Jesus, should I have reported what I was doing at the loo? And I’m even sitting at tables, holy shit, that’s a federal crime.”

“She herself told you on. I haven’t figured out yet what you told her but I know Scully like the back of my hand; he’s obviously trying to cover for you but keeping secret and acting aren’t his strengths. Sooo… you can play dumb but it’ll take me less than two minutes to get everything out of him.”

Her hands stop fidgeting in the second she realizes there’s no point in denying.

“If you’re convinced that much, then why are you asking me? Just execute me here and now…” she stretches out her arms playing the role of the innocent, targeted victim.

“Nah, you can’t get away with it so easily. I wanna know why you did what you did.” I stand in her way since I can see her eyes mapping the possible escapes.

“Why do you want to know why I did what you think I did?” she asks back still keeping the poker face. She still thinks she can win, unbelievable.

“Well… it’s just interesting. Jeff and Dave danced with those girls too but as far as I can see, their popularity hasn’t decreased, I wonder why…” I turn around for a second and nod towards our table where the guys are laughing hard at something with Scully and Claudia’s friends, Claudia seems to have been vanished in the meantime, though.

“Because they don’t have girlfriends...” she remarks earnestly staring at them, not even noticing she broke the character.

“So that’s it? That’s why you did it? You think I can’t even look at other girls since I’m not single?”

“You just shouldn’t. I mean, you found a girl who meets your special needs, you wouldn’t have such luck once again in this lifetime.” she sits back on the high horse again.

“What special needs?” I ask eagerly hoping I can finally put the whole picture together.

“I don’t know, four boobs, tiny brain, large bed, I guess…” she goes on with the bullshit.

“That’s you theory about my needs? Wonderful… So you think I would have cheated on my girlfriend without your machination?” I raise my voice.

“I didn’t say that…”

“Did I kiss her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I hug her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I grope her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Then what the fuck did I do that bothered your sensitive soul so much that you dared intervene in my business?” I lean over her making her back away.

“You laughed and…”

“What?” I scream. “You think me laughing with someone wearing skirt makes you entitled for shit-talking? You’re insane. You know what? You can play the self-proclaimed moral police of the crew or Seattle or the whole fuckin’ universe, I don’t give a fuck. Just leave. Me. Alone. Mind your own love life. Oh, wait? You don’t have one? Maybe that’s the problem?” I cover my mouth with my palm pretending shock.

“Screw you, Gossard.” she whispers hoarsely and tosses me away with her shoulder rushing past me.

***

I catch her at the entrance, in front of the building. Scully was right, she seems to be pretty upset.

“Shit, shit, SHIT!!!” she shouts emphasizing the last “shit” by kicking at full strength in the dumpster standing on the side of the road. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she bounces with painful groans on one leg until she almost loses her balance and limps back to plop down onto the curb.

“I heard that Converse was planning to launch steel toe sneakers, first I thought the brand managers were tripping on something but seeing you it totally makes sense.” I remark as I take place next to her with the moves and in the pace of a seventy-year-old woman; this position is anything but comfortable for my permanently aching knee.

“Ha, very funny. I should have kicked him in the balls. With steel toe boots…” she mumbles taking her foot in her lap. “I hope I didn’t break my big toe.” she tries to make a diagnosis by palpation.

“If I’m not wrong, you’re talking about the genitalia of Stone Carpenter Gossard.”

To my biggest surprise, it’s not the anatomical term that catches her attention.

“What? Carpenter?” she asks snickering but she also wipes out an involuntary teardrop with the back of her hand from the corner of her eye in the meantime. Whatever happened, it must have actually hurt.

“Yes, that’s his middle name. But: you didn’t hear it from me. And, I know the temptation is huge but try to keep this information until you can use it with cool head.”

“I’m as cold as an icicle.” she sniffles bitterly.

“As a melting icicle.” I stop a next teardrop rolling down on her face with my thumb. “Come on, what happened?”

“Nothing. I’m just so sick of it. So sick of him.”

“What has he done?”

“You mean apart from getting addicted to oxygen twenty-something years ago?”

“Did he say something?” I ignore her sarcastic response.

She laces her arms around her knees and begins to examine her shoes.

“Did he do something?”

She insists on remaining silent and resists my interrogation pretending the patterns on her socks require all her attention.

“Or didn’t he say or do something? That’s the problem? Look, I don’t have to care about your childish quarrel. I just wanted to check if you’re okay since Scully was worried about you. But frankly, maybe too many people are already busy with trying to keep your war over sandbox toys under control.”

“You could finally decide on whose side you are…”

“Obviously on Stone’s. But it has practical reasons, Mike mentioned once he had drunk expired beer during a gig with his previous band and he’d vomited in the amplifier…” I try to ease the tension. “But Jesus, Judy, joke aside, I’m on nobody’s side, of course. I’m just trying to help but if I don’t know what happened, I can’t. And I’m helpless since believe or not, I know he’s a really great guy and I also know you’re an awesome chick and honestly, I have no clue why your arrival has turned him completely inside out.”

“So it’s my fault.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m just… so sick of him.”

“You’ve already said that.” I fish a tissue out of my pocket and hand her so that she doesn’t use her forearm to clean her nose.

“You know… he’s not the first smug prick I have to deal with, I met enough of them at Juilliard… but usually, I just ignored them.”

“Then why don’t you ignore him too?” I ask although I know there are several reasons that make this idea extremely difficult.

“I’m not in the position in which I could pretend he’s invisible. And inaudible. I mean, letting it slide sounds like a way that could be even effective, maybe he would get tired of torturing me after a while… but it’s not like high school bullying, I don’t have years to get rid of him, at least you have a glimmer of hope every year there that maybe the bullies find a new victim in the freshman class… But… despite what this whole situation looks like, this is the adult world. This is my job, the management is my employer and if the band is not satisfied with me, I’m going to be fired.”

“But they are satisfied with you…”

Her disbelieving expression makes me correct my sentence.

“They are not dissatisfied with you…”

“Stone is. And he’s the leader and main songwriter of the band so if it came to a dealbreaker… guess who would draw the short straw.”

“Who talks about a dealbreaker? At this point, you’re my trainee. You’re under my protection.”

“And you know what’s the most irritating part? That I’m trying, I’m really trying… I do everything to fulfil his wishes…”

“…which are often ridiculous, let’s be honest. I mean, he’s an immensely talented musician but he… all of them have to learn that being loud and raw isn’t the most important thing…”

“Exactly… I just want to turn up the volume until his monitor box explodes and then just shrug, like “you wanted this, fucker”.“ we both giggle recalling the awkward moments and the looks we exchanged at sound checks. “But what’s your strategy? How can you convince him?”

“Well… I don’t try to convince him with explicit arguments… somehow I learned how to make him believe that my suggestion was originally his idea.”

“Clever… but ah, I couldn’t make it… he disagrees with everything I come up with… it’s like an innate reflex at him.”

“Aaand you’ve just caught the point!” I snap with my fingers.

“…which is… that it’s a reflex and he can’t help it?” she frowns.

“No, the other thing you said… he disagrees with everything that comes from you.”

“…aaand…?” her hands circling around each other urge me for getting straight to the point. “Yes, I’m the problem, I know, there’s nothing new in that.”

“NO! And actually… I’d rather keep you in the dark about it. Namely, we’ve got a plan.”

Two plans actually, in case plan A doesn’t work…

“We? You and…?”

“Schmitty, Brett and Scully. None of them is particularly good at keeping secret but this time they are holding on, I’m very proud of them. But as far as I know you, you’d ruin everything if you knew the details.”

“I can’t wait… if it doesn’t involve a pair of dirty, stinky socks getting stuffed into Stone’s mouth, I’m not interested in it, anyway… whatever… sorry for being skeptical, the guy is smart, he smells plans and tricks from miles… and even if he doesn’t, he ruins your self-esteem and drives you into series of mistakes and then” she claps suddenly making me start ”he gets you and makes fun of you.”

“You don’t need to exaggerate, he’s not Satan itself…”

“Are you sure?” she narrows her eyes meaningfully. “I had finally gained some confidence by the time I graduated from Juilliard, I mean, I finally believed that being admitted and receiving a degree there meant I could really… achieve something… and now... I feel like I’m at the start again.”

“The situation is certainly out of your comfort zone… but you came from a different world… and his world is strange for you too and…”

“If it was only about this!” she cuts me off. “He’s mocking me permanently, at everything. Everything. Like in elementary school, he makes remarks about my look, my dresses…”

“But you mock him back!”

“… my love… life…” she goes on in a thinner voice. “Or… rather the lack of it. Rude remarks.”

Whoa, that’s new. Obviously, I’ve heard him cracking jokes about her innocent look and Jeff’s admiration for her that he rather disapproved than encouraged, by the way… but he hadn’t humiliated her publicly only for being single… I need a context.

“What did he say exactly?”

“He told me not to put my nose into other people’s business… and that I should to stay away from his private life and insulted me by saying I didn’t even have a love interest…” she recalls in a bored voice like she was reciting a textbook.

“That doesn’t make any sense… what happened before?” I inquire. Something tells me that’s only the second half of the story…

“We had sort of a… disagreement.”

“You don’t say…” I squint at her. “Come on, don’t make me pull everything out of you word by word!”

“Can I have a cigarette?” she asks out of the blue.

“But you don’t even smoke!” I protest.

“Do you want me to go on or not? Just give me a cigarette, please.”

“Oookaaay…” I hand her the pack with my lighter in it.

“So… there were those girls who showed up in the bar… they sat down to the guys’ table…” she begins as she hits the pack with her index finger a few times to set a cigarette free.

“Yes, I saw them, they even danced with them, it was hilarious!” I giggle. Honestly, not only the recall of the scene cracks me up, her fumbling with the lighter is hysterical too.

“One of them… Claudia… she hit on him. I mean, on Stone.” she utters with disgust as she succeeds in lighting the cigarette for about the sixteenth attempt.

“Oh yeah… she seemed pretty pushy.”

“Pushy is not the right term, she was just shameless! I encountered her in the restroom, she started asking questions about him, you know, if he’s single, what kind of girls he liked, stuff like that. And I… ahem… I told… ahem-ahem… I told her… ahem… I told he had a girlfriend ahem-ahem-ahem-ahem…”

Even the first drag drives her on the verge of choking.

“Are you sure you want to smoke it?”

“Yes, I am… ahem… I’m okay… I’m just… ahem. Okay. I think it’s over.” her breathing calms down finally. “So” she takes another drag, a perceptibly more cautious one “long story short, she didn’t even care… and that asshole didn’t even resist.”

“I didn’t see him reciprocating her approach… What should he have resisted?”

“Everything? OUCH!!!”

Due to her outraged hand moves, she managed to drop the ash onto her forearm.

“Okay, you give that to me…” I grab her by the wrist and take the cigarette between my own middle and index finger. “When you’re smoking, you have to ash it regularly to avoid accidents like this. It also burns while you’re talking, just sayin’…”

“Damn… but it’d feel really good to hold a cigarette in my hand while I’m flailing…” she whines still rubbing her forearm.”

“Here. But don’t even try to light it. We can pretend you’re smoking it. Go on.” I hand her a fresh cigarette and begin to puff the one I confiscated.

“And I got just… so angry! I mean, how can one be such a slut?” she gestures on with wider moves.

“Well, a lot of girls just want to have fun and…”

“No, I’m talking about him! He’s got a girlfriend… who must be beautiful and smart and perfect and… “

“Wait, you don’t know anything about her…”

“That’s true but guys like him obviously wouldn’t date any girl…”

I’m dying to know what she means by “guys like him” but maybe this is not the right moment to ask it straightforwardly…

“But he didn’t do anything particular with that girl…” I try to defend him effortlessly.

“Were you there too? Because I was. And trust me, without my intervention, a lot more would have happened…”

“Wait, your intervention?” I perk my head but receive no response. “Judy??? What did you do?”

“I… I might have said her a few things… about Stone…” she confesses with burning cheeks.

“Things like…???” I claim a detailed explanation. Maybe she’s not as innocent this time as I thought…

“I told her things about… what he likes…” she answers reluctantly.

“Like beer or dogs or disco music or what the hell? Tell me the whole fuckin’ story or I leave, I swear!” I flare out at her.

“Things… he likes in… bed…”

Oh. The idea of Judy disclosing Stone’s bedroom secrets sounds dangerous enough to make me choose my words wisely.

“But you… you don’t know what kind of sex he likes… do you?”

“Jesus, of course I don’t, I don’t even want to think about the fact that that freak has sex at all! Jesus… not even in my worst nightmares…” she rolls her eyes staring in front of her.

“But then… how did you know…”

“I… used my… imagination…” she sums up with a brief shrug.

I’ve never heard a more euphemistic synonym for lying. “I used my imagination…” Wicked woman.

“Oh my… and what was your intention with that?”

“To make her reconsider her choice… and to defend Stone from her… you know, I wanted to help him getting out of this situation, guys just never have the strength... I basically did him a favor!”

Of course, Judy helping Stone. I could even imagine it but strictly only after the arrival of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“Thinking back about the beginning of our conversation, he couldn’t be particularly grateful for the helping hand…”

“Well, the thing is that the nature of our relationship sort of… influenced my word usage…”

“Judy, I’ve known you since your birth, you don’t need to use vague sentences… just tell what you told her finally!”

“I told her he liked watching animals, I might have mentioned mating animals. For example, watching David Attenborough video tapes before he…”

“I get it, I get it… but that’s not that extreme, thank God you didn’t say he liked animal porn in which people do it with animals…”

“Maybe I mentioned further preferences too… maybe I said something about him liking eating from the girl’s body…”

“That can even be hot, a lot of people are into it, that’s not that bad at all, Judy…” I snicker.

“…unusual food… like bloody steak with Worcestershire sauce… with knife and fork…”

I immediately stop giggling and freeze because I have the sinister feeling she still has something to confess.

“Uhm… I thought you were talking about potentially erotic food like strawberry and whipped cream but in case the girl likes steak too…”

“…and it’s possible I said things about his… performance too…”

“Oh, no.”

“I remember mentioning… he needs, uhm, special actions to become… motivated.” she fidgets with her shoelaces absent-mindedly, wrapping them around her index fingers.

“Okay, whatever, go ahead, I’m prepared.” I cover my eyes with my hands as if they could prevent me from visualizing her bizarre ideas.

“As far as I can recall… I claimed his main turn-on was watching the girl doing her business…”

“You mean doing the business? Like… pleasing… herself?” I ask back since don’t want to believe what I heard.

“I said doing her business… on the toilet…” she repeats with a miserably groan, reddening and avoiding my gaze.

“Judy… you know I’m always ready to defend you from anything or anybody but… it’s no wonder Stone attacked you again.”

“No wonder? He deserved it! After all that bitching…”

“He deserved it? Helping hand, of course… you basically humiliated him in front of a girl!” I scold her trying to keep a serious face, which is not easy at all.

“Do you think I went too far?” she asks innocently with sincere concern. For a second, she turns back into the ten-year-old version of herself who was scared of everything and everyone and it costs me a lot of restraint not to hug her. “Anyway… thinking back… it was so funny, you should have seen the girl’s face.”

I admit, this is the most hilarious shit I’ve heard in the last few years and Stone does deserve some payback from time to time but I don’t want to confirm her behavior. I’m sticking on my plan about getting them to make up or at least to normalize their relationship.

“Judy…” I begin with a deep sigh “Most guys are very sensitive as for their masculinity and sexual abilities, even if they are not typical machos. When they are joking about themselves – that’s okay, a guy with a healthy amount of self-irony is usually considered funny or even attractive. If another guy teases them with sexual topics – they just fire back, with words or their fist. But if it’s a girl who makes fun of their performance – they just freak out, they can’t hit you, they can’t assert they are sex gods either, their only way to defend themselves is attacking back verbally and they try to be at least as rude as you were. Or even ruder.”

“Oh, please, Karrie, I don’t need to be lectured on the psychology of men. He didn’t even know what I said exactly, he wasn’t there of course.”

“But it was you who said he’s smart, he probably figured out the point of it, the chick didn’t seem to be a rocket scientist and she probably didn’t even realize she got in the middle of your death match…”

“Or he was just taking shots in the dark and had luck. Scully was there and Stone was about to torment him so that he would tell him everything word by word… poor dude… So everything will turn out, anyway. By the way, Stone immediately thinking that I’m the potential reason of him being refused by a girl is insulting but also flattering at the same time…”

“Judy, I’ve never denied that it’s pretty difficult to bear Stone’s remarks without saying a word. But getting a taste of his own medicine only gets him fired up all the more, he always wants to have the last word, he’s simply just like that. And if you want to be the quicker one and make his jaw really drop, you have to get your shit together. But to be honest, I’d be happier if you’d keep your quarrels on the level of innocent teasing…”

“It was already everything but innocent in that very moment he heard my name for the first time. It didn’t depend on me, it’s all his fault and he has to face the music at least once his lifetime!” she declares determined.

I better activate plan A as fast as possible before someone gets killed.

***

I can’t wait this terrible day finally come to an end. I just want to take a shower and have some sleep… but I don’t even know how I could get myself to close my eyes, this place is a mess. What if cockroaches come out of their hideouts in the second I turn off the lights? But I’m so tired… what if I asked the driver to open the tour bus for me? Sleeping in the bunk bed sounds definitely safer… but what if he’s already sleeping? I don’t even know his room number and the reception desk was empty too; I don’t feel like looking for the staff in this haunted house. I better start with a shower, it always helps clear my mind. I’m so busy with my own thoughts that I basically bump into Beth in the hallway who’s walking sleepily towards their room; she must be coming from the shower judging from her wet hair.

“Already back here? It wasn’t a long evening…” she mutters in a tired voice.

“I’ve had enough of it. Is everything okay?” I examine her resigned face.

“Yes… uhm… Ed was typing lyrics the whole evening and then he passed out… so I had a shower and I’m about to go to bed too.” she rubs her eyes. “Carefully with the water tap, I almost scalded myself due to that crap. It’s better to wait at least thirty seconds before standing under the water and be careful when you try to change the temperature, there’s not much transition between ice cold and scalding hot, I had to mess around a lot until I could find the optimal level.”

“If I can’t work it out, I’ll just shower with cold water, that wouldn’t be the first time.” I wave.

“Ugh, if you’re a masochist…”

“It’s not the most pleasant thing I can imagine but at least it’s not dangerous either. It can be even refreshing sometimes.”

“Oookay… as you want... And there are no hooks in the shower either, by the way. But no bugs there so far either… Good night!” she pats my shoulder with almost closed eyes and totters to their door.

As I unlock the door of our room, I reach in with one arm to turn on the light and wait for a few seconds before entering; I don’t want to see my little roommates running in the corners. I lift the blanket on my bed only to realize the bedclothes aren’t the cleanest and there’s no towel prepared for the guests. Thank goodness I didn’t listen to Effie when she tried to dissuade me from bringing my own one; she claimed hotels always offer towels and travel-size personal care products… So much for Effie’s assumptions. Of course I also brought my toiletry bag decorated with treble keys and musical notes containing small bottles of shower gel, body lotion, a tiny tube of toothpaste and… due to the foresight of Effie, my “emergency package” now includes also gratuitous amount of condoms that stare at me accusingly every time I unzip it. I decide to leave my clothes in the room since I don’t like when there’s no place where I could arrange them properly, I don’t want my sleeping shirt and boxers to get wet either. There’s no living soul here, no one would see me walking a few meters only wearing a towel…

But when I pull it out of my backpack, I realize there’s one thing I didn’t take into account: I brought a smaller towel to spare place for other clothes. As I wrap it around my body, I have to trick for a while until I can arrange it in a way that it covers both my chest and my backside at the same time. Since it’s not only narrow but also short, I can forget the ordinary method of walking, I can basically only waddle pressing both arms tight to my body without exposing anything. I try to exercise this ridiculous way of moving pacing back and forth between the two sides of the room a few times and I end up sitting back on the bed hesitating if I should dress up again. I’m at a public place, after all. But fuck it, I’m tired, I had tequila and this day can’t get any worse, anyway. I peek out to the hallway to make sure I won’t get unexpected company and I set off to cover the longest twenty meters in my life. In duckwalk. But my bravery pays off, I encounter no one so on entering the shower, I finally allow myself to relax.

I put the toiletry bag on the classroom chair in front of the sinks in the forefront and fish out the shower gel bottle. I leave my glasses on the bag and head towards the innermost compartments. I decide to hang my towel on the wall separating the opposite compartments and after turning on the water, immediately jump backwards to safe distance. Beth’s advice on the adjustment proves to be useful and a few minutes later, I’m already enjoying the pleasant, warm water. Of course I brought my favorite, rough sponge too, it always helps refresh my blood circulation.

I catch myself rubbing my body stronger and stronger as I involuntarily recall tonight’s events. What a prick. Of course he deserved everything, I don’t have to feel ashamed about anything. It was him who looked for trouble. His girlfriend would have felt terrible, if she’d seen that disgusting scene so I did the right thing. His huge ego just can’t accept, this time someone was smarter than him. It’s so pathetic when a man needs this cheap kind of confirmation to feel his masculinity ensured. But come on, Stone Gossard’s name referred in connection with manliness and masculinity is the most ridiculous idea in the world, he’s got the body and mind of a thirteen-year-old.

I turn off the water and spill a few drops of shower gel into my palm but as soon I touch my shoulder with it, I hear a noise. A squeaky noise. A squeaky noise of an opening door. Oh no. No, no, no. The smacking sound of slippers on the tiled floor leaves no doubts that I have a visitor and the lazy, shuffling steps are approaching. I pull in the corner and don’t even dare breathe, I’m shivering but not only of cold, shit, what if it’s a stranger? What if it’s a man? What if I make some noise only with my mere existence? I got trapped here naked and… The sound of steps ceases and the water starts running right in the shower cubicle next to mine. Luckily, the wall is high enough to hide me although I can’t check the other person without revealing my presence either. A few seconds have gone by when humming gets mixed into the sound of water… Oh shit, it’s a male voice. The humming slowly turns into singing and my blood runs cold when I realize: I know this nasal bleat.

“If you didn’t come to party, don’t bother knockin’ on my door…”

#pearl jam fanfiction #fanfiction #PearlJamfanfic #eddie vedder #stone gossard #MikeMcCready #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese

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adamsvanrhijn · 4 years

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Ooh for the director's cut, I'd love to hear about the Jan 12, 1930 letter from "strange how I fit into you (there's a distance erased with the greatest of ease)"--if you need to break it up smaller, please do! I don't know if that's too long :p (or if there's something more interesting in that fic you're dying to talk about, I could have picked anything from it so please feel free to take this as a Star)

it is not nearly as long as it could be!! :-3 i think i can do all of it; let’s see! under a cut regardless. :-3

link to fic: strange how I fit into you (there's a distance erased with the greatest of ease)

yes we use the entire title every time....yes we do

Jan 12, 1930

Dear Richard,

While I wait for you to telephone I thought I would write you a letter anyway. I know I've kept you waiting, and I'm sorry to have done. I've been busy, but you know what that's like.

the scenario here, of course, is that they have scheduled a telephone call (either for this night or on a recurring basis; it’s up to the reader until we get to that point in the other fic in this series, which is a ways out) within the next hour or so & thomas has nothing to do until then so he decides to write. self-explanatory! :-3

the other element is that they don’t write every day or even necessarily on a regular basis anymore, by this point in their relationship. it’s been about 2.5 years since they met and they’ve been going strong, but they’ve also (richard especially) got lives and jobs they have to take care of when they can’t be together, and those can be fairly consuming. it’s right after christmas in this scenario after a very bad winter, and the crawleys are going through a lot! (almost exactly two months earlier: Here in Downton we're not being very optimistic about anything at the moment.) so that’s affecting thomas more than the already-busy time of year normally would be. there is a Lot happpening at the abbey (which will be Gotten To in the fic that prequels/coincides with this one). we’re entering the great depression. work wise he’s been in a better place before. mental health wise he’s been in a better place before. but, he also some good things going for him too, and those are very much things he shares with richard, so.

Speaking of keeping people waiting, your mum told me to tell you to write her back. I'm sure I'll say this to you in an hour but in case I forget there it is. I told her that this is a very busy time of year for you, and she said that when she worked for Queen Victoria they didn't have any of the modern conveniences you do and she still managed to find the time to keep correspondence with her dear mother and father. So, you have no excuse.

i just.......... love richard’s mom lol, love writing variations on her... in this verse she was a royal dresser herself in the ‘80s before she quit to marry mr ellis, yorkshire farmboy childhood sweetheart of her dreams, and have five beautiful & talented children (whom we shall get to shortly). you’re getting OC backstory in this commentary haha.

now, the thing that Matters here for the reader though is that thomas was not only With Richard’s Mother, but that he was without richard present, and that also richard’s mum is close enough to & trusts thomas enough to bother him to harp at her son for him... because she understands that richard’s going to talk to his boyfriend more than he’s going to talk to her. and for thomas that’s huge, but it’s not new to him; the switch happened somewhere in ‘29. but the reader doesn’t get to see that, they only get to see this, so it’s like, epistolary in media res haha.

i’m actually curious to know when the click point in this letter was for people, because it’s been mentioned a few times in comments & in conversations i’ve had since then...!

this letter is really like, a foil to the sept 23 1928 letter, when richard & thomas visit richard’s family together and then thomas writes to him while he’s on his way back. in jan 1930, richard is in norfolk doing his job, hasn’t been north in months except passing through it to get to balmoral castle, etc, so the vibe is different, but i wanted to convey that this has been going on for a while -- thomas is seeing richard’s family on his own on a semi-regular basis, and they’re inclusive of him to the point where they treat him as an extension-of-richard (in the thoughtful, romance-supporting way, not the not-your-own-person way).

Everybody else says hello and that they miss you and wish you could have come home for Christmas. Surely some of them have put this to you in writing by now but I am passing on the message anyway.

Other notable things from Sunday dinner that I'll try not to ramble on about once I've got you on the telephone:

and so same thing here, really!

worth noting that this day was thomas’s christmastide day off. (despite being three weeks after, but again. stuff goin on with the crawleys.)

thomas is being a little flippant here... ascribing a different emotion to the thing he’s doing than the one he actually has. the fact that the ellises trust & value him is huge for him and he’s taking the responsibility to be the middleman very seriously, but he’s uncomfortable letting on that he feels that way, so he’s sort of downplaying both in put this to you in writing by now And try not to ramble on about. like, richard is Definitely gonna ask him to tell him all about how his family is and he knows it, but he’s also worried about getting any of it wrong/leaving things out etc so he’s putting it down on paper, too. which has the advantage of helping him organise his thoughts before they call! but the lessening-his-own-role-in-this thing is certainly a Thing indeed.

richard knows what he means by it at this point though. :-)

I got to hold Ruthie. Dick, in my forty years of life I have seen some very sweet babies, and you just may have the honour of being uncle to the sweetest of them all. I hope you can come meet her soon. It doesn't feel right that I should get to see your niece before you do.

this is another integrating-thomas-into-the-family thing and also a Giving Thomas Children To Love thing haha. ruthie is of course the newest leaf on the ellis family tree! she’s the daughter of one of richard’s sisters (dorothy, sister 2/3, unmentioned in this fic because she doesn’t bother her brother about doing his laundry for him), she’s a november scorpio, she’s VERY sweet and thomas got a lump in his throat while he was holding her.

those last two sentences... some very sincere thoughts there being expressed in plain language. like, on the one hand this is amazing for thomas and he’s finally, finally got an actual family to feel a part of. on the other hand it is missing a very big piece that is important to him and to everybody else, and thomas has such a strong sense of justice that kind of comes out here. both in the sense of thinking he’s not worthy of what he’s being given (a chronic issue of this thomas) / not knowing his place 100%, and, wanting richard to have what he’s entitled to but can’t access because of the position he’s in. and that’s not a comfortable feeling for thomas, because it’s something he’s powerless to, so there’s a reason he doesn’t dwell on it.

Teddy is about as tall as I am, which I do not remember as being the case the last time I saw him. This is what happens when first footmen breed. Maybe by the time you see him he'll be as tall as you are, which, as I have said in the past, is not actually that much taller than me. Just so we're crystal clear.

teddy is the oldest of richard’s nieces/nephews! he’s the first son of his older brother, who Was A First Footman & he’s like 17 here. again this is really about like, establishing that thomas seeing richard’s family is ongoing and that he’s serving kind of as the link between richard and his own family in a way. they’re really integrating as a couple. which is a BIG part of this fic that matters more once they move in together a few years after this bit but right now we’re laying the ground work for it.

aaaaaaaaand teasing of course. :-3

You must have received yours weeks ago already, but Hannah gave me the scarf she made. I can't believe you managed to keep this a secret from me. I am very impressed with you. Luckily, I did not cry in front of anybody in your family when I opened it but I felt like I could have.

matching handmade scarves!!! yes!!! i guess the thing here is just more thomas-being-an-honorary-ellis stuff but also showing how richard works within his own family... hannah, sister 3/3, worked with him on figuring out/applying what thomas likes, so that’s part one, and part two is that like, she was Expecting to see thomas and to give him his gift in person, whereas she mailed richard’s to get to him in time for christmas. and thomas is aware of that, and for him her waiting to see him and physically put the thing in his hands means a lot and so there’s some overwhelming emotions going on there, as he mentions.

I don't know what you told May and John, but I had only been in the house five minutes when…

…

being sister & brother in law, respectively. i..... wanna get into the thing going on here elsewhere in the series so i’ll let it be for now. sorry !

…well, it is five minutes past. Knowing you I am assuming you'll be calling in the next 2-6 minutes, so here is as good a place as any to stop.

richard stops keeping track of time the second his majesty king george the 5th goes to bed at 11:10pm on the dot and so is pretty much always fashionably late, but thomas has figured out how to adjust and it is something they can tease each other about + share as an injoke. and not only is it teasing but it’s also Correct, in this case at least! :-)

I wish you had been there today. I am thinking of you.

Your loving,

T.B.

and this is just an emotional but understated letter closing from thomas, expressing the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth, etc. :-3

i’m getting sleepy and now i’m kinda worried this isn’t gonna make sense / is too repetitive etc haha so if you’re dying to know smth else just lmk :’-)

#downton abbey tag #my fanfiction

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blackcatanna · 4 years

Text

LET THE ORGY OF SADNESS CONTINUE: Okita's Route Part 3: Edo Blossoms

I'm very interested to see how this plays out. Tbh, I don't really get this relationship yet but that seems consistent with how I felt before Edo Blossoms in the other routes so, yes, I am excited! :D I hope that Kaoru doesn't die X_X I want at least one route with Kaoru redemption but I am not at all optimistic...

Chapter 1:

"Something else entirely had me preoccupied..." Could it be... one spicy, stabby boi?

Wait, are we... LIVING TOGETHER? 👀

Quick question: do silver bullets affect demons or just furies?

BWWWWAAAARRRP!!! PHYSICAL CONTACT ALARM! "I held his soft, trembling fingers in my hands," Whoa there. Please calm down. I cannot allow this level of unbridled eroticism in my Good Christian Suburb.

In all seriousness, though, I GUESS this is SOMEWHAT sweet and romantic but I want everyone to know that I'm saying this under duress. >:( If I fancied him, this would wring the fuck out of my heart.

"Are you sure? You aren't just saying that?" Glad to see that Doctor Chizuru studied under Doctor Gregory "Everybody Lies" House.

"Why is it that you're always here when I wake up?" If you can't figure it out, I sure as hell am not going to tell you!

"Okita seemed to take pleasure from my surprise, and he stared into my eyes." X_X Of course he did... Because he loves to provoke reactions.

"Answer me." MAKE ME >_<

"looking off to the side in a fit of feigned indifference." < Okita in a nutshell

Is he upset because I said that I was here because of worry and guilt? Because, tbh, fair enough. Those were pretty dumb things to say, making out like it's a burden instead of admitting that I actually like being around him >:(

"Well, I guess that's fine then." X_X Oh, come on! Don't use the f-word on me like that! D:

"She's lying." YAMAZAKI!!! >_<

"Look, I know you can't stop thinking about me, but this whole doting-all-day-and-night thing is tiring." Called. The fuck. Out. X_X

Tbf, it seems kind of hypocritical to be fussing over someone while refusing to let them even inquire about your own health. Plus, it's a very one sided arrangement, which is not healthy X_X

"stop throwing a bitch fit" XD Okita is my new hero :')

"I didn't know that my behaviour became a cause for concern for them, too." Then, perhaps, you are foolish and inconsiderate -_-

O: Okita!?? Did he faint?! O_O

Woo! Going on an adventure with YAM! :)

There had better not be any creepy bald fuckers waiting in mah house! >:(

Are all doctors bald in 1860s Japan????

I'm so happy that Yamazaki's still alive in this route :) TOUCH WOOD.

"*Grunt* *Cough*..." Ah, I knew it was only a matter of time before I caught tb -_- (jk)

No, never split the party! D:

"However the price to pay is life itself." DUN, DUN, DUUUUUUUUUN!!! So much for it granting "immortality"

"the poisonous Water of Life" uh... Isn't that kind of an oxymoron X_X

"Retaining your sanity is impossible without feasting on blood." Ah, so all along, the Shinsengumi were just feeding the furies a poor diet.

O: ):< WHO DARES THUMP MY YAMAZAKI?

Of course. It's fucking Kaoru -_-

Blah blah, sadistic fuckery, blah blah. I'm starting to get real tired of your shit, BROTHER.

"Was he trying to play a trick on me?" -_- probably, yeah.

Wow, that's... Actually pretty helpful? Thanks!?

Okay, the doctor folk have gone! I give Okita delicious blood now? :)

Oh. HE GAWN!!! O:

WHY ARE YOU UP AND DRESSED? >_<

"Sleeping all day is such a drag." True, so DRINK MY BLOOD AND GET BETTER >:(

Bloodlust time :O Good thing I'm a walking blood pack! :D

"How long have you been doing this?" Uh, haven't you been watching over him night and day?

"I wrapped my arms around Okita and held him tight " BWAAAA- Okay, yes, physical contact. Hug = gud >:(

"Pease, drink this " DRINK THE BLOOD >:(

"I could feel his breath brushing across my skin..." o_o Saucy...

Why are the blood drinking descriptions so erotic XD I mean, I'm not complaining but-

Who is this strange, apologetic man?

Blood > Porridge

Heh heh, apparently, Hijikata acts "all hoighty-toighty"

Oooh! Looks like Okita's trying to break free of his diligent YAM nursing...

"I am calm" Okita, last time you said that, you went on a killing spree...

Ooh, I wonder why Yamazaki and Okita don't get along... I remember seeing a picture somewhere with casual Yamazaki abuse in the background...

"Okita was acting like a petulant child, throwing his toys out of the pram..." X_X Sexy...

"Do you think the Shinsengumi still needs me?" HONEY, the Shinsengumi needs all the help it can GET!! O_O

Omg, Yamazaki's threatening to tell on Okita! XD He's playing a dangerous (and childish) game!

Side note: the painting in Okita's room is distracting me because it kind of reminds me of the dead mice my cats bring in on a regular basis.

WAIT, IT'S A FISH!!! X_X A NICE, INNOCENT LITTLE KOI FISHY X_X I need to stop spending so much time with my cats...

"What, already? Can't I stay up just a little longer?" Hakuoki: Mum simulator!

"I'll turn in on one condition..." Oo-er :O

"Okita grinned mischievously, and he peered directly into my eyes." O_O OO-ER!

"My palms became sweaty, and my heart skipped a beat." IT MUST BE LOVE O_O

"Since you're here, mind laying down next to me?" DUN DADA DUN! *fanfare plays* We got there in the end, folks! :D

DON'T YOU DARE SAY NO XD

"That's not a funny joke." True. And the only way to teach him a lesson is to PRETEND to take him seriously by DOING AS HE SAYS >:)

"You're so dense." FACTS.

WELL DONE, CHIZURU, YOU DONE COCK-BLOCKED YERSELF, I said, berating the fictional character as if that's not totally something that I would do in real life ..

"Okita blushed, turning away in embarrassment." O: CTRL+Z CTRL+Z CTRL+Z ):<

"I want to, erm, talk to you for a little bit longer..." Oh, we can "talk" all night long ;)

"Talk...? With me?" But I'm only a stupid woman, huh dur, with naught to say but um and er! Actually, Chizuru does say ""um..." I couldn't think of anything to say" in this route A LOT so maybe FAIR PLAY.

Just realised that I accidentally made a rhyme.

"Okita sighed, frustrated" HONESTLY, ME TOO.

"How clearly do I have to spell this out for you." I'm beginning to wonder that myself. He just wants some company, Chizuru! Is that SO HARD to imagine? X_X

"He began to run his fingers through my hair." Oooh! Physical contact :3 Chizuru = pet cat!

"as the tip of his finger touched my skin, my heart skipped." Yeeeesssss... Feel the thirst flow through you... 3:)

Are we gonna get a thirsty Western uniform pan, now? :P

"I tried facing him directly, but for some reason my heart was thudding in my chest..." :O Oh my! I cannot think of a possible explanation! You should get that checked out! >:P

"you find me sexy right now, don't you?" AH-HAH! >:D Caught red handed!

Ugh, can't believe he tricked me into saying he looks good. >:(

UGH. Doctor Matsumoto still needs to perform a final exam on Okita?! Just let him go already X_X

Wow, has Okita been seething against Hijikata this whole time? That... Can't be healthy -_-

"Okita had the tendency to act rashly and avoid looking at the bigger picture, particularly when Hijikata was involved." No shit. He's going to be such a handful X_X

"You're coming, right?" Of course. I'm not just going to sit around here while everyone I care about gets killed O_O besides, you need my nutritious and delicious blood to keep you nice and healthy ^_^

"she can't keep her eyes off me for long enough, to the point where she'll follow me wherever I go" Yeah, because that's how you win at this game >:P

"Aw, is that some blushing I see? It's the truth." Yup.

"Well, yeah," SHE ADMITTED IT!!! 8D

"So, Yukimura. It appears you have some feelings for Okita, is this true?" OH, FRICKING GREAT!!! NOW I'M BEING INTERROGATED BY MY DAD'S EX- COLLEAGUE ABOUT MY LOVE LIFE X_X IF THE GROUND COULD SWALLOW ME NOW, THAT'D BE GREAT! OKITA IS SUCH A DICK XD

OKITA. STOP.

Doctor, why you gotta be so serious? O:

"Criminy..." Uh... Is that a real word?...

Omg, it is a real word! I have never heard anyone use it but, tbf, this is the 1860s :P

Okita needs to stop saying that every decision that Kondou makes that he doesn't like is because Hijikata "coerced" him. He's a grown man. He can think for himself. Please respect his autonomy X_X This is not healthy.

Uuuuuugh. Kaoru >_< Seriously, get a life!

"I'm here to watch the Shinsengumi flail around like pathetic losers as they watch their friends die." ... KAORU, THAT DOES NOT COUNT AS A HOBBY >_<

"Looks like you made it in time for the show, though. You'll be able to witness the glorious execution of the Shinsengumi's idiot chief." Or, in other words, we arrived in time to try and rescue him >:)

"You look nice. All your little boo-boos patched up?" Uhh... There's a lot to unpack here...

"Okita reveled in the vicious display, allowing Kaoru's blood to shower him as he swung repeatedly at the Demon." O_O Umm... Okita? Maybe CHILL THE FUCK OUT. O_O HE IS MY BROTHER, YOU KNOW?!

Aaaand, seemingly Kaoru's going to milk that fact... -_-

Did he... Stab me in the mouth?!?? What am I looking at here? X_X

Also, why doesn't he just activate his demon form!?!

Wait, is he feeding me the Ochimizu?!

Kaoru says that the water of life will eat away at Okita's body faster than if he'd just succumbed to TB but that's clearly not true if he's living long enough to see the end of the Shinsengumi. Plus, a short life of action is better than spending the rest of your days fading away in a sickbed.

"Okita comforted me with the soft tickle of his hands as they wiped away each tear with a warm touch." :3 Pretty darn wholesome! I will concede this point!

"you're a sweetheart." :3 Thank.

"You're a good girl" And am I supposed to wag my tail at that? X_X

"I... I am in love with Okita." O: Damn, that'll go straight to his head X_X

"more than anything or anyone" not that that's saying much :P Sorry, romantic moment, must resist shit talking urges!

"I believed that if I died, no one would give a shit." </3 O: )': DX Neveeeeeerrrrr!!!!

I prescribe HUG INJECTION >:(

"You look like shit" -_- Way to kill the mood.

"Here, come closer." :D Okay, I forgive you! <3

Oh, he played the uno reverse card on my hug plan :O

"How could I keep myself calm when the man I loved held me delicately in his arms?" BIG. MOOD.

Awe, he didn't kill Kaoru because "my heart knew it didn't want you to hate me..." <3 <3 <3 >.<

"My heart melted." SAME.

Chapter 2:

Damn, we're only on Chapter 2 and things are already getting pretty fluffy...

"Do you want me to sleep next to you?" DO IT. XD I dare you :P

"I wonder if Okita thought of me as nothing more than a silk kimono and a warming stone, as if that was all I could offer..." Girl, come on! Don't sell him short like this! Oh, and tell me more about what you want to offer him 3:)

Well, it looks like blood is the answer, for now O_O

"Y-You're not gonna offer me a-any blood today? Trying to play hard to get?" -_-

"his warm mouth drew my blood into his full, tender lips." X_X Sounds like someone needs a cold shower...

"I'm a diseased freak with no hope for the future." D: Don't say that! Everybody dies eventually! You still have strength to achieve the things you want and we can still be happy together! :'(

"I will be by your side, Okita... No matter what." YUS >:)

SEN!!! <3

"Would it have killed you to at least write us a letter?" O: I'm sorry! X_X

Ha. Bold of you to assume that Kodo's continued research might be in your favour.

"Kondou has surrendered to the Imperial Army." O_O OH FUCK.

And of course Okita is blaming Hijikata X_X

"You are making assumptions, most of which are uninformed" Yeah, you tell him, Sen-bae!

I still don't see why we can't at least try to rescue Kondou >:( Are we just supposed to sit tight and wait for him to be executed?!??

" I'm sure that Kondou would be very unhappy to hear his life was saved at the cost of Okita's." >:( And I'm sure that he would be even more unhappy to hear that Okita spent the rest of his days confined to his bed, in misery and anguish. >:(

The dream was pretty wholesome :'o

I guess protecting the things that are important to Kondou, like his legacy, is more important than protecting Kondou himself. Kondou entrusted his legacy to Okita, and so his efforts might be better spent elsewhere, rather than on rescuing Kondou. :'( That's up to him, though.

HUG ALERT!!! 8D

"No matter how many times he touched me, I couldn't have imagined ever tiring of the sensation..." XD The thirst is real!

"Y'know, ever since you came into my life, I've always given you a hard time..." WHERE IS THE LIE?

These two assholes in each other's arms, like "Welp, I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of telling you that I love you so we're just going to continue this totally not heterosexual hug right now and stfu."

:D I am happy to see Hijikata! However, I know someone who may feel differently -_-

"Would you like me to wake him." O_O Nooooot a good idea, Chizuru!

"Without me to blame, I doubt he'll have anything to motivate him, and I'm worried he'll lose the will to live." :O Hijikata, that's kind of sweet in a fucked up kind of way but you underestimate the power of LOVE >:)

THIS HAD BETTER NOT BE FUCKING KAORU AGAIN!!!

:O Kazama and Amagiri?! I was beginning to think that Kazama had lost interest in me. Or, at least, hoped he had.

"This evening... Isami Kondou was beheaded." I just gasped out loud! Kondou, no! D':

OMG, IS CHIZURU TRANSFORMING INTO A BADASS DEMON?! 8D 8D 8D

"A woman who has sullied herself with the water of life is unworthy of my love. Consider this over." ... IF I KNEW THAT THAT WAS ALL IT TOOK, I WOULD HAVE DRANK THAT FUCKING CONCOCTION YEARS AGO >_<

"You are dead to me." GOOD.

Awe, Okita! :'(

NOW I'M CRYING, TOO D'X Damn this game DX

Chapter 3:

Chasing down the Shinsengumi >:) ... Again! If this is anything like Kazama's route, this is going to be depressing af...

We're like two fuzzy wood creatures, going from cozy spot to cozy spot to snooze in during the day :')

"Be a good girl," >_< Staaaaaahhhp!!!

"They went thattaway!" XD I know that this situation is pretty dire but that sentence makes me chuckle!

"Fight...? You?" Ye bitch! >:) I got me my ochimizu powers now!

"How dare you, you bastard!" UM. YOU ATTACKED US!!! WE WERE TRYING TO HAVE A NAP!

*Slash, slash, squelch, splat* X_X

"Ahahaha! You're just helpless pigs!" -_- Uh, Okita? Calm the fuck down, k? You're starting to sound like Kazama!

"his sadistic display of sword mastery." Yup, they be the right words -_-

Ugh, I got shot. Probably shouldn't have been standing around doing NOTHING X_X

D: I killed a guy! GUYS, CHIZURU JUST STABBED SOMEONE IN THE HEART, COME AND SEE!!! :')

"Chizuru, you're trying to hard." *Hides guide* I don't know what you could possibly mean :) :) :)

:O a kunai?! Could it be... my boy YAM?!

YAM!!! :'D

"I just assumed you died or something." Okita is the queen of tact, as always :')

Wait, Yamazaki, don't stay behind on your own O':

NOOOOOOOOO O_O

YAMAZAKIIIIIIII!!!!

OMG HE'S OKAY!!! 8'D 8'D

"I... Cannot afford to die yet..." Doesn't stop you in most routes, though, does it? X_X

"This doesn't look good..." Oh no! Is he going to succumb to his injuries off screen?! D': Classic Yamazaki D,X

"You've been spying on us for days, and I didn't even notice." :') That's our Yam boy!

Aw, Okita gave Yamazaki the thank you!

I reeeeeaaally don't think that Kondou would want Okita to murder Hijikata X_X

"I am going to be late, but I promise to return." YOU HAD BETTER. >:( DON'T DIE, YAMAZAKI!

Owl <3 Hoot hoot to you too, my friend!

Don't kill Hijikata, you dumbass. -_-

"A penchant for violence" X_X That's Okita all right!

It would be funny if he were drinking from Chizuru's foot, instead... Just, something about the way he's holding her hand invites that image XD

FOR FUCK'S SAKE!!! WHY DOES A BATTLE HAVE TO ERUPT EVERYWHERE WE GO!?!

"Okita grabbed my hand" 8D < Happy Chizuru!

Wait... I'M GETTING BLOODLUST?!? MONSTER CHIZURU IS UNLEASHED >:)

Oh, I guess not. Kinda disappointed, tbh XD

Ugh, can we just catch up to Hijikata already? Let's get this over with.

Wait, his sister was "wedded off to some deadbeat"!?! I wonder how old she was... :/

"I was bullied and given shit all the time." :'(

The CG of Okita giving Hijikata the evils is BEAUTIFUL! X'D

"He was a rich snob" somehow, I doubt that...

Wow, Okita really is seething with passionate jealousy for Hijikata... Even though Kondou gave him the sword X_X

I feel like Kondou's relationship with Hijikata is different enough than Okita and Kondou's that Okita's intense jealousy seems a bit much...

It sort of feels kind of like a kid being jealous of their dad's new girlfriend X_X

MORE HUGS >:D

"Before I knew it, you slithered your way into my heart..." That's a pretty weird but also adorable thing to say X'D SLITHER SLITHER

"And you know just what to say," I KNOW, UNCANNY, RIGHT :) :) :) *hides guide*

"We couldn't help but succumb to the hypnotic lull of our passionate embrace." XD Does this mean a fade-to-black is coming :P

I love that their following Hijikata tracks like they're hunting the wild Hijikata beast XD

Is he all alone?

Oh, he has a bodyguard XD

Really inappropriate time to mention this but this route makes Hijikata seem more attractive to me than before XD Maybe it's because of the contrast with Okita's sadistic, violent, volatile side... Maybe it's because he seems more vulnerable when being berated by Okita, idk XD Leave Hijikata alone, Okita!

"You could have saved him!" But Hijikata has RESPONSIBILITIES. He can't just abandon his men and their cause to save Kondou, even if he wanted to :'(

"I COULDN'T!!!" Yeah, you tell him, Hijikata >:(

OKITA, DON'T PUNCH HIS BEAUTIFUL FACE!!! I mean, uh... XD

Wait, we're not going with the Shinsengumi?! O_e

"Hijikata's a real dumbass, don't you think?" -_- .......NO!

Kondou reading to tiny Okita = mega cuteness!

"If I never met Kondou, there's no doubt in my mind that I'd be waaaaay more cuckoo than I am now." And nobody, NOBODY WANTS TO SEE THAT O_O

"You and Kondou are pretty similar" Obviously, that's a compliment and I'm super flattered but I reeeeeaaally hope that this relationship isn't just because Chizuru reminds him of Kondou XP

"My heart suddenly melted in my chest." What, again!?! Chizuru's heart had been through A LOT during this route -_-

"To be fair, it was a little strange of Okita to compare a woman he loved to a man he viewed as a father..." <<< See?! :P

Skipping off, hand in hand :')

Chapter 4:

Aw, tiny Chizuru sadness flashback </3

It's unthinkably awful, what happened to the village, but revenge =/= genocide.

Chizuru, y u lie? -_-

"There were men who took pleasure from their evil deeds." And demons, too... And Okita, to an extent XD

Ugh, I bet Kaoru's gonna sneak up on me while Okita's gone and be all, "Yeeeeesssss.... Give in to your anger... Feel the hate flow through you..." Fucking annoying hate goblin child.

OH, LOOK WHO IT IS!!!

"You're a real bitch, you know that?" Oh, I'M A BITCH??!! Sure thing, tiny asshole. -_-

"At long last, we can come together. We can be the siblings were born to be." ... Happy and free from the burdens of hate and bitterness? O_O

"We are going to massacre the evil forces conspiring within this country, for the good of our people." ... What people? The dead ones? Yeah, I'm sure they'll be reeeeeeaaal grateful from their graves. Sounds like you just want an excuse to torment some humans, you sadistic piece of shit -_-

"Suddenly, I craved blood..." OH HO!

"I... I craved Okita's blood..." 'Sonly fair >:P

"my entire body screamed to tear Okita limb from limb." 8O Yikes.

I... Kinda want to know what happens if I give in to the bloodlust... 😏

Buuuuut I gotta endure it. Damn.

Oh, it's cold up North, is it? ;P What can we possibly do to stay warm in bed?

PENGUIN HUDDLE is hopefully the answer.

<3 :D Looking up at the stars together!

"I want to make your wishes come true. All of them..." :D Okita is every girl's dream sexy murder genie :)

""If you still plan on walking away from me and everything you have..." Okita reached his hand to me kindly." :) :) :)

"Then, I will kill you " FFS XD THIS BITCH!!!

I bet we're gonna kiss now or something. Damn that sexy murder genie X_X

Oh, no kissing, just crying XD That's... Actually more appropriate, even if they are happy tears :')

O WAIT, "I grabbed ahold of him madly" ...

SMOOCHY SMOOCHY >:)

"For once in my life, I felt whole," Awe </3 "the thought of which nearly brought my tears." BITCH, UR ALREADY CRYING XD

"each breath between our zealous smacking grew more strained and sensuous." O_e ... Uh, what did I just read? XD XD XD

"now that Kondou's gone... I only have one reason to fight." Uh... I have a feeling that it's a Chizuru reason... He really needs to find his own motivations, instead of just attaching himself to the causes of people who give him attention. Okay, that was a bit harsh. X_X I'm sorry, Okita!

"How about another kiss, huh?" "B-but, um... W-we just kissed..." ... SO!?! GIRL, YOU KNOW YOU'RE HOT FOR HIM!

"I'm askin' you if you'll have me or not." ... When he says "have", does he mean . . .

"Well, I think there's a time and place for everything." ... Damn. Is this game suggesting that if I say yes, I'm a slut and he'll think less of me? XP BOOOOOOO!

"Watching you squirm like that makes me want to play with you even more." XD As I predicted: Big Dom Energy!

"As long as I will live, I will crave your touch..." *Munches popcorn* Just screw, damn it!

"Our plump lips smeared against one another, and he pulled at a fistful of my hair, drawing me deeper into him as he bit forcefully into my lower lip." :O ... Kinky! >:P I totally called it XD

"I do not mind putting up with anything you might do to me, Okita." How... Romantic?? O_e Just admit that you're horny, Chizuru! There's no shame, I swear!

"I bet when I'm gone, you'll sob like a baby." :'O YES. OBVIOUSLY. >:'(

"Okita spooned me," Classic XD

Ew, Kodo.

"You look pale. Please do not tell me that you have been refusing to drink blood." XD Thanks for your concern...

Bless Okita for offering himself as an all-you-can-eat buffet X_X

"If I were to commit to this relationship, then it meant I needed to separate myself from my family." DRAMAAAA! :D *Pulls out another bag of popcorn*

"I have no desire to carve a life that comes at the expense of hurting others." PREACH B)

#hakuoki #hakuouki #okita #okita souji #edo blossoms #LONG #SALT #otome adventures #SO MANY WORDS #I DIDN'T KNOW THAT TUMBLR HAD A WORD LIMIT BUT I GUESS I FOUND IT #Tune in for part 4 #i have an addiction

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lunias-takes-on-homestuck · 4 years

Text

My Classpects Through the Years

I started getting into Homestuck in late 2012, about a year after [S] Cascade dropped, and like most of y’all I got pretty interested in the system of Classes and Aspects.

...Okay, I got obsessed with it. Who wouldn’t? A highly-flexible system of essentially taking an aspect of reality and interpreting it through the lens of a key verb or idea, creating unique and self-determined power sets limited only by your own imagination? That’s wild. And when I say I got into it, I mean I really got into it. I dove deep into Homestuck’s lore, reading up on popular and somewhat fringe theories about what each Aspect related to, how the Classes utilized them, what the potential Active/Passive pairings were, and how certain Aspects seemed to oppose each other. I even went so far as to contribute to a theory regarding the future of Tavros Nitram, which... didn’t exactly pan out as expected... but it was a ton of fun! And of course, while I was certainly interested in what this all meant for our cast of characters, I was also interested in how it could be interpreted and/or applied to real people.

People are, of course, far more complicated than a simple personality test could possibly explain, but I still got a lot of entertainment out of trying to pin down the classpects of characters or people I knew irl. Which naturally included me. Looking back on it, I think it’s very interesting to see the progression in ideas that led up to my more recent musings, so I figured it would be cool to dive into that and share my past and current classpects here!

Credits:

All images are pulled from the Homestuck Classpect Chart Updated posted by JosiahR94 on DeviantArt.

Artists: Zynchilada (compiled, partially drawn) and Owyn (updated at original resolution). Both blogs listed on the artwork have since been deactivated.

2012-2013 - Knight of Breath

This one is the byproduct of some test manipulation on my part - the fan test I was using was based on MBTI and Jungian archetypes, and honestly I’ve never found them to remain accurate for longer than a couple months at a time. I’ve wound my way around four different MBTI results over the years so I’m not inclined to use them as the basis for much, especially since the original test included fan-created classes and aspects that I really didn’t understand or jive with. But even once I narrowed it down to strictly canonical classes and aspects, I still wound up going with the 3rd-most accurate one. At the time I saw the Knight as the Active Exploiter class, the type to jump into action and wield their aspect as a weapon. I really related the idea of a detached loner who was fiercely protective of their friends, and John had shown off very, very recently (for me, anyway) just how powerful wind could be. The powers were sick, the outfit was neat, and it was absolutely wrong in nearly every way. Nearly. But we’ll get to that.

2013-2015 - Seer of Doom

You’re probably a little familiar with this one if you’ve been keeping up with Homestuck theorists lately, as there are two prolific content creators I know of who identify as Seers of Doom. For some time, I did too! The change was largely brought about because I thought my initial Knight of Breath result hadn’t been accurate enough, and also because I wanted to try my hand at classpecting myself without the aid of tests. At the time I was really feeling the Doom aspect and I saw myself as a guide (or maybe a teacher?) so it felt like it fit. There was just one sliiiight problem - I was entirely focused on how the Doom aspect related to the problems I was having in my life, rather than how I viewed the world around me and interacted with it. I still felt like I was sort of onto something with Doom, but it took some major life events to give me the nudge I needed to see things a little more clearly...

2015-2020 - Sylph of Life

For me, 2015 felt like the year I was finally coming out of my funk and figuring my shit out. It’s the year I started taking college courses (well, a college course), getting into meetups, making new friends, and reinventing myself. At some point I decided that the issue with my initial Doom analysis was that I was overly focused on the challenges I had instead of how I actually dealt with them, and my new aggressively-optimistic outlook would simply not mesh with Doom. Not one bit. I also felt that my class didn’t quite fit, and Sylph was sitting right there with their magick-y healing and creation powerset -- the ultimate support, and the type of person who makes their own way through life by simply refusing to accept they could be stopped or put down by anything. By the time the Extended Zodiac Quiz came out in 2017 and confirmed I was Lifebound, I had already proven to be on top of my game in college in a creative field. I joined our LGBT+ club and started somewhat aggressively railing against overly-restrictive labels and social constructs in Contemporary English to the point that I was exceeding the page limit on our essay assignments on a regular basis and still felt I wasn’t saying everything I wanted to say. Sylph of Life just clicked for me in a way the Knight of Breath and Seer of Doom never had, so I figured I’d nailed it.

Then, earlier this year, I found out I was actually a girl.

2020-Present - Knight of Life... or maybe Heart???

Imagine for a minute that you’re at a theater watching some movie through the perspective of the protagonist. You think you’ve got the plot all figured out, you’re guessing every story beat, and then in the last 5 minutes the big twist reveals the protagonist has unwittingly been an unreliable narrator for the last two hours. Literally everything you thought you understood has been flipped on its head, and it’s still good but it’s all very confusing. You leave the theater wondering what you just watched, and as you turn on your car you suddenly realize there were subtle hints foreshadowing the twist for over half the film. With every passing second the pieces start coming together, and you just know that watching it again would leave you going “How the hell did I miss that?!”

That’s about the best way I can explain what I’ve been experiencing for the past four-ish months. All the puzzle pieces I had put together were thrown totally out of whack and I’m finding every day that there are aspects of myself and my personality that I never knew where there. Discovering myself is hard work, but it’s a wonderful feeling, and it’s no wonder that on the heels of this I’m seriously vibing with the aspect relating to Personal Identity. That said, I still find myself parsing labels and identity through the lens of Life - words which are too restrictive to properly convey who I am, and an experience that can’t be explained or constrained by the stereotypical narrative people tend to have about people who are bisexual, polyamorous, transgender, and at once more complicated than those words can really describe. When I take the Extended Zodiac Quiz I find that I’m still Lifebound, but changing even a single question by a single step leaves me Heartbound instead, and I think that dichotomy really mirrors where I feel I’m at as a person.

Class-wise, I feel drawn to both Sylph and Knight to a degree, but in the years since I first chose the Knight of Breath classpect I have come to understand the class as a Passive Server - one who gives for the benefit of others - and that speaks to me. The wonderful Mythological Class Quiz by @homestuckexamination has only confirmed my suspicions about that. I have yet to decide between Knight of Life and Knight of Heart, but they’re both very interesting classpects imo, and either way I’m sure I’ll be spending far too much of my free time developing powers and things for them :P

Takeaway

Whew, that’s a lot of words! But what exactly does it all mean? Well... if you ask me, Classpecting is sort of a process. I’m sure that, years down the line, I’ll probably say I had it all wrong and I’m actually some other combination of class and aspect, and I’ll reminisce about the days when I was so obviously misreading myself. But that’s kind of the fun of it, isn’t it? It’s just another form of personality quiz, albeit one where you get sick powers and a nifty set of pajamas at the end. And for all the good that introspection can do to help you understand yourself a little better, you better believe I’m going to be spending the next hour or two debating whether passing out heals and buffs while tanking everything would be more cool than body-surfing and turning enemies into clones à la Agent Smith in The Matrix: Reloaded.

#Homestuck #Classpecting #Knight of Breath #Seer of Doom #Sylph of Life #Knight of Life #Knight of Heart #Lunias Takes #Lunias Personal

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hejer-maomao · 5 years

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Can I make a request in how the Ikerev suitors react to a MC with Depression? If you aren't comfortable writing this, I understand.

… This right here has to be the most challenging request I have ever received and I’m honestly terrified of writing it.

I have hesitated for some time now and I even thought of simply turning you down because depression is not an easy topic to write about. But when I thought of the possibility of these HCs somehow making anyone, anyone, out there feel a little bit better about themselves, then I will force myself out of my comfort zone for it.

Just few words of serious warning here. I am not an expert on mental illnesses nor am I a doctor. Although I am not exactly mentally healthy myself, I have never been diagnosed with depression either. I will try my best to make this as accurate as possible, based on my readings, my own experience and my friends’ struggles. So, please, do not hesitate to tell me if something is erroneous or can potentially offend or trigger anyone who has depression and I will immediately take this post down, you have my word.

The purpose of these HCs will be to heal and to comfort and NOT to belittle or mock depression.

For all of you out there, who are battling with depression, you are real warriors my friends and I pray to God you never stop fighting. Keep clinging to hope and never be ashamed to seek out help. Many people , including myself, are always ready to hear you out. My ask box is also open for everyone who simply wants an ear to listen.

Trigger Warning: Depression.

Ikemen Revolution Suitors Reacting to an MC with Depression:

Lancelot:

Lancelot would quietly listen to you as you confess everything to him, his eyes never leaving your face, his hands gently enveloping your cold ones.

Once he is sure you have said it all, Lancelot will slowly guide your body to face his own, bring his face closer to yours and solemnly say, “You’re not a burden. You’re a strong woman. So strong. But I’m here now, so try to lean on me even for a while.”

Lancelot would tightly embrace your trembling body with his strong arms, trapping you against the solid warmth of his chest, and burying his face into the crook of your shoulder, leaving behind soft kisses on your skin.

His hands would come up to pat your hair, tightening his hold on you further as soon as he begins to hear your sobs echoing in the room. After letting you cry your heart out, the King of Hearts would gently pick you up and carry you to the bed. Carefully tucking you under the covers, he would place a soothing kiss on your forehead.

Lancelot will not leave your side for the rest of the night, nor the night after it as well as all nights for the rest of your lives.

Just like you have managed to save him from the throes of despair, supported him when he was distant and cold, and forgave his cruelest actions, Lancelot took an oath to himself to never stray away from your side, and to hold your hand as you find your way out of the darkness inside your head.

Jonah:

As soon as the words left your lips, it would take some time for Jonah to process the situation and for his brain to register the new information. When it fully sinks in, Jonah’s eyes would immediately begin to water, his cheeks taking on a soft shade of red before he chokes out. “How can you be so strong?”

Jonah would gently hold your hands, bringing them to his lips, kissing each and every knuckle of yours before nuzzling your palm against his own cheeks. Throwing his arms around you in a hug, Jonah would gently whisper how strong, how fierce and how beautiful you are, because even in your darkest hours, you never gave up on yourself.

The Queen of Hearts would then puff up his chest and slightly pout, his eyes still red from all the tears he shed and order you to stay put until be comes back. Jonah would then leave for a few minutes before returning with a plate full of sweet treats, plopping next to you on the sofa and shoving them into your mouth. For each cookie you successfully eat, Jonah would reward you with a gently peck on your lips, softly smiling at you as you slowly make your way through the desserts, Pine nestled quietly on your lap.

Jonah cannot be prouder of you after your confession. He always respected the incredible woman he fell in love with right from the start, but knowing how much pain and suffering you had to go through on a daily basis made Jonah wants to hold you inside his arms and never let you go.

You’re the bravest soldier Jonah has ever met.

Edgar:

Edgar’s surprise in reaction to your words barely lasts for a few seconds before his regular, soft smile returns to his lips. He adorably tilts his head and softly tells you, “I love you regardless of anything.”

For Edgar, there’s nothing you can say to him that can make his love for you decrease even by a mere inch. After all, you have accepted him wholly, with his bloody past and disappointing actions, deceiving nature and horrible secrets. How can he not do the same for you?

The Jack of Hearts knows all about self-loathing and the awful feelings of anguish and hopelessness. Even now, Edgar still hasn’t learned how to completely let go of his past, nor how to accept that this cruel world actually deserves to be loved.

Edgar will hold your hand in his, and will ask you to stay by his side as you both learn, bit by bit, to love life again and see that there’s hope even in the midst of the darkest nights.

If Edgar managed to return from hell itself with your help, then you have no doubts that he will give up everything he has in order for you to keep on living and learn how to smile again.

Zero:

Zero’s first words to you would be, “It’s okay to feel this way,” as he tightly holds your hand, his eyes trembling with raw emotions.

Zero is no stranger to the feeling of utter emptiness in one’s chest. He has, for very long time now, felt as if he does not belong anywhere, as if he is destined to feel lost and meaningless for the rest of his life.

So Zero, knowing that you feel almost the same as he, if not worse, smiles gently at you and squeezes your hand a bit tighter. Just as you chose to see past his flaws and his deeply-rooted insecurities, Zero will forever see you as the strong warrior you are. In your dark just as your bright days, Zero promises he will be there. He will smile when you do and hold you close whenever you feel like crying. He will give you space and time whenever you need them and stick close to you if you feel like the world is crashing around you.

Zero will be more than content to simply walk by your side and match your pace. He will be there when you feel courageous enough to take baby steps towards healing and he will never abandon you even when you shut yourself in your room and come so close to giving everything up. Zero will be there, through it all. So do not be afraid, and lean on his sturdy back, and let his gentle warmth and kind heart heal your very soul.

Kyle:

“Is there anything I can do to help?” would be Kyle’s softly whispered words as he gently holds you close to his chest, one hand patting the crown of your head, tousling your hair in a familiar gesture.

Kyle might not be a psychologist, but as a doctor, he knows that talking about one’s fears and doubts might prove quiet efficient in the process of healing. He is more than ready to introduce you to one of his psychologists friends, whom he has absolute trust in their skills. But if you do not feel ready to talk to anyone yet, Kyle will respect your decision and encourage you to take as much time as you need. He will be there, whichever choice you make.

Kyle’s soft heart and awkward kindness will shine through your darkest days as his rough hands will guide you back to the surface every time you feel like you’re drowning. Kyle will use every means in his hands to bring you back to health, all the while making sure he does not force you beyond your limits.

His golden eyes will never stray from you as he alternates between gently pushing you towards the sun and tenderly enveloping you in the safety of your shared room. No matter how hard things become, Kyle will be there with his silly smiles and stupid jokes, and he will repeatedly save you whenever you feel too tired to even stand on your own.

Ray:

Ray’s emerald eyes would tremble for so long, his hands softly rubbing your back as he quietly waits for you to finish speaking before he calmly whisperer: “There is hope.”

Ray is not excessively optimistic, nor is he unreasonably idealistic. He simply knows the woman he loves and he knows what she is capable of. He is certain that she will make it through it all, no matter how many times she falls, no matter how much it bleeds and hurts, he knows you will get back up even if you choose to stay down for some time, gathering up your strength.

Ray fell in love with a real fighter, same as him. And just like he never gave up on his own self for years, Ray will undoubtedly never give up on you either.

He knows it’s hard. He knows how painful it is to get up in the morning when all you want to do is to lay in bed, crying your heart out, doing nothing at all. He knows how tedious life can become, when all the people around you are smiling and enjoying themselves while you feel like suffocating with each breath you take, your insecurities piling up on your shoulders, threatening o pull you under the tide at any given chance.

Be ready to be completely accepted by this man. All of you, from head to toe, will be embraced by Ray as he walks you the same road as you towards self-healing.

Take as much time as you need with this man by your side. With Belle gathered in his arms, he will follow you to the ends of the world.

Sirius:

Sirius will be silent for a long while after you finish talking. He will hold your hands between his own, his fingers tenderly caressing your knuckles, as he thinks for a while.

Once he reaches his final conclusion, Sirius will hum in approval before getting up, dragging you with him in the process.

“Let me help,” is Sirius’ next words as he wears his usual, familiar smile.

You will pampered to death by this man. Do you feel like staying at your room all day without doing nothing at all? Sirius will make sure you have soft blankets, water and warm meals whenever the darkness in your head gets too overwhelming. Do you feel a little bit better, ready to go out for a while? Sirius will also be there, hand intertwined with yours, as he allows to pick whichever destination you want to go to, without ever pushing you too far or forcing you do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.

Life is unfair, and Sirius is well aware if that. Although he cannot exactly banish your doubts and insecurities, he will be there to deny them all and remind you how much you are loved and that when all of this is over, he will still be here and so will you.

Seth:

Ever wondered how it would feel if you had someone who understands your very soul without even needing to speak? Well, Seth will become that person for you.

You don’t even need to spell everything out, Seth would be up on his feet declaring that you’ll get through this together.

Just like Sirius, Seth will be able to read your every mood and act according to your feelings for the day. He will alternate between providing you with days full with shopping trips, delicious food and girls’ talk and others simply spent watching classical movies in the darkness of your shared room, curled up together under the blankets, munching on simple treats.

Don’t hesitate to lay everything bare to this man and rely on him to hold your hand as you fight your way through it all to reach the surface. Seth will never judge you nor deny any of your efforts. Whether you only manage to get up from your bed in the morning or spend an entire day smiling or laughing, Seth will be proud of you regardless.

Harr:

“I love you”, is Harr’s response to your confession.

For him, a strong fighter like you who managed to help him out of his own darkness is more than capable to save herself, but he will be there with you, each step of the way, keeping you safe from the demons inside your head, and holding your hand whenever it feels too much to bear.

Harr’s kindness and concern will mainly show in actions rather than words. A cup of warm chocolate and soft tissues after you finish sobbing your heart out for no reason. Your favorite flower appearing right beside your pillow after you spent an entire day holed up in your room, refusing to let anyone inside.

Small acts like these will contentiously prove Harr’s determination to share his warmth with you, as you both find your ways towards loving yourselves and loving this world.

Oliver:

Clenching his teeth in irritation, Oliver will most certainty tell you how much of an idiot you are, if you thought this will change anything between you.

“You chose me, so don’t go around trying to escape. You’re stuck with me, so deal with it. You won’t drive me away.”

Oliver’s behavior will not undergo any major changes after your declaration. He will still treat you the same way since he does not consider you to be any different. In his eyes, you’re the same silly woman he fell in love with. It doesn’t matter for him that at certain days, you would feel too empty to even get up from the bed or too tired to even brush your hair or drink your coffee. It does not matter because Oliver will be there in any case, every day, whether good or bad, and will kiss you good morning, insult your bed hair before threading his fingers through it, tenderly kissing its ends.

Oliver is the same as ever, and his love for you will remain unchanged. He fell in love with a human after all, and he will embrace that human, with all of her mood swings and flaws.

Hey little fighter, soon things will be brighter ❤

#ikemen revolution #i did as many suitors as I could before I ran out of ideas and I got too emotional to even write #so i hope you forgive me #just know that you're not alone and that we are all suffering each in our own way #... stay strong #❤

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drkoestersmithrpg · 4 years

Text

THE END OF PERILS, THE SERIES

It wasn’t just that Tony’s hands were extremely talented (and they were.) The nimble fingers that could carefully solder a tiny chip to the circuit board of engine timing system on his Audi knew exactly what to do when they came into contact with Peter’s body.

It was also the fact that Tony knew Peter well, knew Peter very well, in every sense of the word. And then there was the experience. About a year’s worth. Put all that together and it was no wonder that Tony’s hands would make Peter moan.

But then Peter groaned and covered his face, covering his eyes with his palms, and Tony knew that had nothing to do with his hands.

“Whatsamatter, Baby Boy? What can Daddy do for you?” he asked casually as he rubbed Peter’s feet. He asked, but he didn’t turn his head. The truth is, he was a little bit more into this television documentary than he thought he would be. Still, Peter came first.

“Daddy isn’t going to get to do ANYTHING for Baby Boy if I can’t make my study group get past this chapter. I mean it’s not advanced calculus, people. Well, it is, literally, but it isn’t hard.”

They were in their regular Netflix-and-chill position, Peter laying on the couch working on his laptop, his feet in Tony’s lap. Tony had been rubbing his feet absently, but not paying much attention. Maybe it was fatigue, but Tony had actually been watching TV this time. In the early days, Tony had to struggle to make himself scarce (which is to say, leave Peter alone) while sharing the couch with a busy Peter, getting his homework out of the way so they could move on to better things. If he *didn’t* do a good job he would get distracted, rubbing calves, then thighs, then other things, until Peter couldn’t do his homework anymore, and it would have to get done later.

But tonight he had been content to only rub Peter’s feet as Peter struggled to explain, via his social media chatroom, the points of calculus that his study group simply couldn’t grasp.

“Oh baby, I can relate. Try pretending that they’re all little children, and you’re trying to explain things to them politely.”

“How do you talk to them like children AND be polite.”

“Yeah I never really mastered that.”

“And I don’t know how to explain this any more simply than I am already.”

Tony nodded knowingly, making appreciative noises. He couldn’t do much else. So he massaged the foot in his hand and watched the screen.

Peter looked up from the slow-motion train wreck that was his study group’s chat function and looked at his lover, overwhelmed with a sense of déjà vu. Which was ridiculous, of course they had done this before. This was their version of Netflix-And-Chill. They did this on a regular basis.

Still there was something about this moment, something important. The same, but different.

He had been with his comedian (even now, he thought of Tony as ‘his comedian’) for coming upon two years. They had began dating after bizarre aliens had arrived from space (including one human, also named Peter but Tony always referred to him as StarFlake) contacting the Avengers and reporting on an invading Over-Alien intent on relieving the universe of half its population. Knowing the world might end at any minute had motivated both of them to take the risk of getting into bed together. But, once together, neither one had wanted to move apart. But that constant threat of Invading Over-Alien made otherwise-unwise decisions seem perfectly reasonable. Like going out on that third date or saying I love you. Or getting engaged. Even though he never showed up, Peter and his comedian owed a lot to that alien, wherever he was.

Peter smiled indulgently when he thought of their early days together. In those early days, he might have half an hour, if he was lucky, to work on his laptop during the Netflix-and-Chill sessions. More if Tony was playing video games, which might keep his interest for a couple of hours. But if Tony was trying to actually watch something? Peter would have to plow through his Variables classwork in record time all while Tony’s hands moved closer and closer to sensitive bits. He was (he hoped) the only one at Columbia who looked at his grades and blushed, remembering what Tony’s hands were doing when he hit ‘send’ on that A+ project…

Tony insisted Peter could keep working when the oral started, but Peter had never gotten callus enough to perch his laptop on Tony’s head. Tony kept threatening to construct a shelf that would hold the laptop in place with enough space to accommodate his head, but other than lengthy arguments over how to patent/sell the product nothing had ever come of it.

Peter smiled, amused, as he thought about those early, dicey days. Not that they weren’t worrisome at the time. Tony had showed so many signs of developing a sex addiction in those days Peter found himself actually searching ‘how do I know if my boyfriend has a sex addiction?’ on the internet. It wasn’t all bad – the addiction seemed completely focused on Peter alone, and, if he complained about it he wound up with a facefull of roses.

Something had happened that had curbed that addictive behavior, but Peter had two minds about what that had been.

Part of Peter was sure that it was simply a matter of Peter, himself, becoming a better lover. In the early days of dating his comedian he came like a virgin-on-prom-night (Tony’s standard joke) and the scientific side of his brain informed him that’s why Tony had to do it so often, because the actual experience was so short and unsatisfying. So Peter (ever the scientist) had set out to (manfully) last longer in Tony’s mouth. When THAT didn’t work he set out to (manfully) talk and tease Tony for as long as possible. Which did, in fact, help Tony last longer between fixes.

That was the scientific mind of Peter. There was another part of Peter, however, that had another theory.

That theory had to do with a series of confessions his comedian had made after a long period of sleep deprivation (and some very hot sex.) Confessions about his constant fear that Peter was on his way out. That Peter would ‘realized he had accidentally fallen into bed with Tony Stark’ and would thus, logically, ‘bail.’ It made Peter’s heart hurt, knowing how certain Tony had been, at all times, that Peter was leaving at any minute. While Peter had been living every day like it was our last day on earth, Tony had been living it like The Last Days Of Us.

Things had changed significantly, after that night. The one Peter thought of as “The Night Of A Thousand Confessions.” The night they had both admitted they lived in fear of having any serious conversation that would jeopardize their Schrodinger’s relationship. But (as Peter had helpfully pointed out) if they never argued, how would they have makeup sex?

This had yet to happen, of course. While it had been a struggle to communicate “in the livingroom” the way they communicated in the lab and on the battlefield. They might never get to a place where they were completing each other’s sentences (the way they completed each other’s thoughts in the lab or completed each other’s moves when training on the compound) or even understanding each other’s intentions, but at least they both agreed they couldn’t read each other’s minds, and periodically reminded each other to stop trying. It was hard work, just as Peter had been promised, but Peter remained optimistic.

As for communicating in the bedroom, Peter felt they were making steady progress, especially now that he had convinced Tony it was OK to talk during sex. They had to have a few sessions, going over what did and did not constitute ‘dirty talk’ and what was actually offensive. Peter maintained that speaking factually about what they were doing and what they wanted didn’t count as dirty talk (“Why is it dirty if we both want to be doing it?”) and Tony, well Tony just needed to know he was safe if he accidentally blurted out his feelings during tender moments. Which, much to Peter’s surprise, he was far more inclined to do than Peter had ever expected.

Outside the bedroom they had developed a shorthand when it was time to time to tackle serious issues. Tony still instinctively made jokes at inappropriate times; decades of muscle memory weren’t going to be unlearned easily. Peter usually navigated Tony’s verbal fencing through patience and gentle redirecting, but when he really needed to get to the point he signaled it by putting his fingers on Tony’s mouth (meaning, “I need you to stop joking for a moment.”) If Tony took Peter’s hand and kissed it, it meant he was willing to try.

Tony, too, had invented a shorthand of his own. When he put his hands on Peter’s eyes, it indicated “It is important you not roll your eyes at what I’m about to say.” Taking his hand and kissing it meant that Peter had received the message.

Peter actually covered his own face, now, as he was grinning ridiculously at the memory. He looked back at his laptop as if really reading the screen, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice. Going over these memories as they sat on the couch, on Netflix-and-Chill night? This was too sweet, a little too too sweet. Peter had often thought of his life as a long boring A03 story. This? This particular story would be in the Tooth-Rotting Fluff category.

But no, this was Domestic Bliss. This was the Domestic Bliss he had worked damn hard for, and Peter deserved it.

At least, it would be Domestic Bliss if this horrible group project chat wasn’t going on. Peter moaned loudly again, grabbing a pillow from the couch and using it to cover his face.

“What’s the matter Pretty Baby?” Tony said again.

“Whats the matter is I am always stuck in study groups with morons…wait…” Peter brought his head out of the pillow.

“Did you just call me ‘Petie Baby’ or ‘Pretty Baby?’”

Tony looked at him sideways.

“That depends. Which one did you like?” he asked with a crooked grin.

“I think I like…both?” Peter said cautiously. “Just…don’t mess up and call me that in front of Fury.”

“That’s OK, if I screw up you can just retaliate and call me ‘Angel.’”

“Do you like it when I call you Angel?” Peter asked softly. That earned him another sideways look and crooked grin.

“I like the reason you call me Angel,” Tony replied.

“Do you like it when I call you Baby?” Peter asked, his voice even softer. His bare feet were in Tony’s lap. He moved one closer to Tony’s torso, stroking him with his toes.

“I like what you’re doing to me when you call me Baby,” Tony whispered back. He wasn’t pretending to watch the television any longer. He took Peter’s foot in hand and pressed it lower.

Peter took one last look at the chat function where his study group argued in circles. “DON’T KNOW GUYS JUST AS STUMPED AS YOU ARE” he typed furiously and closed his laptop, moving it aside. In one swift, smooth movement he was in Tony’s lap, combing his hands through Tony’s hair and whispering against his mouth. “Maybe I should take you into the next room. I’ll call you ‘Angel’ and you can call me ‘Mr. Parker’ and I’ll slip my cock inside you and see if I can last more than a few minutes this time.”

“Oh no, Mr. Parker, if we go back into that room I’m going to bend you over and make you feel good.”

“But you haven’t let me do it to you in ages,” Peter found himself whining, but that just made Tony smile. “Oh Pretty Baby, if you want that, you’re going to have to earn it.”

“Oh, is that a fact? Well maybe I’ll just take you into the hallway, and force you to your knees, and take out my cock, and remind myself why I call you ‘Angel.’ And maybe…” he said, kissing and nibbling along Tony’s ear. “If I start practicing again…I can talk dirty the way you want. And if I do…I remember once you said I was coming so close to it…maybe if you make me crazy enough I’ll lose control enough and I can…”

These used to be words he could (barely!) squeak out when he was hiding his head. Now he pulled back and looked Tony directly in the eyes.

“…fuck your mouth?”

The expression on Tony’s face was worth it. The expression on Tony’s face was worth everything in the world.

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