#I might do a post on Avery too eventually but I just wanted to being him up too due to their similarities

[riwooga]

Okay Whitney character dive, I'm just gonna use he/him pronouns for all of this except for PC ✨

I don't know how much of this makes sense but I'm going to ramble and I can already tell this is gonna get quite long

And once again small disclaimer I'm just rambling my personal speculation and thoughts and have no ways of knowing what the creators actually planned/intend for a character!

... Okay I have to add a cut I think it'll clutter the tag too much 👉👈

I actually kind of want to start out with making a comparison of Whitney vs Avery. Because I adore both, yet have actually seen some people interpret them in almost a switcharoo to what I do? Which is super interesting to me, but their character archetypes are definitely similar in several senses, and I find it fun to think about so-

From my point of view, what they have in common, in my opinion, is the "Control and status" mindset.

So when we first meet Whitney, he's obviously not introduced as a good guy, he's a bully, an utter asshole, and for a long time he is just that, he doesn't treat PC nicely until you get pretty high up in love, and still there he's still sometimes an absolute ass. (Just.. A more controlled one that will sometimes semi-respect your boundaries if you enforce them)

Whereas Avery, we meet as this charming, slightly mysterious yet chivalrous older man, helps us out, takes us out for a nice meal and in turn afterwards keeps being quite charmingly chivalrous as long-- as you act the proper way.

But the kind of funny thing it me is, with both of them, once you're in a relationship with you start to see the facade slip sometimes.

With Whitney, you start to see softer moments, it's small things that could be missed or brushed over perhaps, but you start to see moments where he shows he actually cares about the PC, and can actually be sort of sweet if you're in private with him.

Where as with Avery, you see the facade slip too-- but in the opposite way in my opinion? You start to see a colder side of him, start to see that what he cares about is appearance, and see that if you don't act the way he wanted you to, the anger comes through. (I'll definitely go more in depth of Avery if I make a post for him too)

Which again, feels like opposites, yet so similar?

And to touch back on their "control" mindset, there the thing is Whitney seems to be almost desperate for control, and will fight to have it, desperate for something he can actually have his own control over, likely stemming from a home life where he feels stuck and like he has no say in anything (Will touch more on this in just a second)

Where as Avery... Isn't desperate for control, rather he seems to simply expect it. He expects that PC will fall into line and be good, let him make the decisions that make them both look best. Especially at first of you chose the options that provoke him a bit, you can sense he almost starts to consider PC something to be tamed at that point.

Where both of them, highly value their status and other people looking upon them the way they've worked hard to obtain.

And to further explain what I meant with Whitney's home life, let's just say I think there's a reason that Whitney seems to be away from his home for as long as he can, why he prefers to loiter in alleyways and get drunk and cause trouble..

If we, once again, look at psychology, delinquent behaviors USUALLY stem from not feeling seen or heard by your parents, stem from an anger and frustration of either too strict rules or otherwise things like neglect. Same with bullying, usually also stemming from issues in the home life leaving the bully feeling weak and worthless, where bringing others down gives them a high of somewhat power. Especially to people they have a sense of envy toward.

We can also somewhat guess out from certain dialogue that Whitney's family probably isn't the wealthiest, as he describes his own room as a dump and also admits to Bailey that he indeed doesn't have near enough money to afford the PC. Plus if his parents were rich I don't think it'd make as much sense for him to be stealing, other than I guess pure provocation?

So those things combined I feel like I can definitely start to guess why Whitney might feel that lack of control in his life. I'm like... 90% sure I have seen Vrel say that the only thing feels like he has control over is his appearance? (And then the PC)

And while Whitney's relationship with the PC may start as a control thing for him, a simple way to get that itch satisfied and have some humiliation fun as well, well... He does genuinely start to care for the PC. Not that you'd get him to fully admit just how much he does.

Some of my favorite moments is when his brain almost short-wires when the PC not just reciprocates but initiates, especially outside the sexual context. Instantly blushing and trying to play it smooth but often ending up stuttering a bit. Or if you're gone too long and you can see faint tears in his eyes? Yeah good shit.

But also I absolutely have to mention how he is also so oddly soft in encounters, like often saying PC is like an angel, kissing PC'S forehead, praising... Like even in the "embarrassing" scenarios he often has this softness to him.

And to just softly go back to the whole bully psychology thing, a really interesting part of Whitney's character in my opinion is his target on Kylar, especially once he's with the PC.

Whitney in general is quite jealous / possessive, the only way he's sharing the PC is on his own volition, when he's the one controlling the scenario and who touches who. We can see he gets confrontational even in class of people just looking at the PC, or how he gets so frustrated if one of his friends try to help themselves to the PC.

So, to see the PC give someone like Kylar attention? Of course his brain will spiral.

Whitney has probably done so much to build up his position, to be popular, attractive, feared, to be in control, so to see /Kylar/, the freak, the weird little creep everyone actively avoids, who's such an easy target for bullying because of it-- /that's/ someone PC is interested in? Infuriating. A confidence hit probably. From his point of view he has so much more to offer than that pathetic little freak, doesn't he?

And that's where one of Whitney's big flaws come in, because when he feels upset, or even betrayed by the PC, he acts out. He starts to threaten, he starts to humiliate, he forces the PC into dangerous situations. A way to try and snatch that control back.

If pushed far enough, (spoiler warning here!!) we know he's even willing to sell the PC off to the underground brothel because of that loss of respect from everyone else. Because of that loss of control that he so desperately clutches onto.

But I'm gonna try and round it off a bit here--

Whitney seems to have a rather poor handle on emotions, on vulnerability. It's easier to be someone people fear and be having fun with it than it is letting someone even catch a glimpse at the vulnerable parts inside.

... Which is exactly why the moments that he has alone with the PC is something I absolutely melt over, those cracks beginning to show the softness.

So to sum up!

I find Whitney a really interesting character, as much as I roll my eyes at him and think he's a stupid ass, I really hope we in the future keep seeing him develop more and more 🤧

[s-che]

simplicity in design is a virtue, you cretins

i'm rereading Avery Alder & Ben Rosenbaum's Dream Askew / Dream Apart in preparation to finally do some serious editing of my game of intimacy, liberation, and faggots at sea Beneath Pirate Flags. among the billion other small things i'm reconsidering as i go over the bob/ndnm fundamentals, i'm really struck by how simple both these games are — elegant in a way i think i really failed to capture in the first public versions of bpf.

i have a theory about this, and it has to do with why i think the sprawling "always another sourcebook" approach taken by a lot of dungeons & drasprawling, commercially successful ttrpgs is fundamentally weak design — but first, here's one of them fancy 'keep reading' buttons you can click on to keep this post from being six and a half miles long.

hey, welcome back. lets get into the details:

bpf makes a critical break from the original ndnm games in the way its environmental playbooks work. mine are things like "the fort" and "the map" (see images) — individual iterations of broader concepts, much like the character playbooks ("legend", "dandy", "monkey" etc) are iterations of common pirate types. there are, almost certainly, multiple "monkeys" in one world — much as there are almost certainly multiple forts.

this contrasts with Askew / Apart's setting books — things like "varied scarcities," "society intact," and "goyishe world." these are intentionally broad environmental pressures. although "society intact" may be encountered different times in different places — with different names and different faces — it is, fundamentally, the same force.

2. this isn't necessarily a thing i want to change (although there are tweaks i'll be making to just about all the playbooks) but it is real interesting to think about how bpf got here, from a design perspective. the story is simple: bpf didn't start from playing either dream. it started with me reading wanderhome, and this design is borrowed (nearly) directly from there.

wanderhome, like bpf, has players create new environmental elements again and again over the course of a campaign — from the smallest kith to the largest citadel, you might be doing generation multiple times in a single session. wanderhome handles this by simplifying, simplifying, simplifying — a trait has one picklist, a nature two, and so the process of generation is quick and nondisruptive, and you're quickly able to create a populated world without losing yourself in any particular moment of generation.

(che, i hear you shouting, you baited us in with an inflammatory claim about d&d's bad design. get to the point already. ok. i will)

one of the things i like most about possum creek games as a whole (ha, got you again) is the way they can become sprawling without ever overwhelming players. this has been talked about a lot in advance of the yazeba's release — but it's true for wanderhome, too.

where both dream askew and dream apart have just six setting elements, wanderhome has (even if you disregard the seasons and holidays) a whopping forty-eight traits and thirty-six natures. it is — despite seeming small in the shadow of yazeba's — a sprawling game, and it's only through a tremendous efficiency and elegance in design that the whole thing doesn't come bursting apart at the seams. some of that is thanks to the ndnm token economy as a whole and some of it is good writing specific to wanderhome, but none of it is possible without an ethic that prioritizes simplicity — cutting the building blocks into their smallest fundamentals, so they can fit into something huge and, more importantly, comprehensible.

this all stands in sharp contrast to what seems to be the tendency in dice- and percentage- based games (told you i'd get there eventually), who — out of a need for a bespoke, simulationist tool for every situation, maybe — have a tendency towards appendices, supplemental books, and a proliferation of minutiae. i am talking about d&d here, although i don't think it's the worst offender — i still have nightmares about the hand-to-hand system from top secret, a game my dad only recently admitted he was "basically only pretending to understand the rules of" when he ran it for my friends and i when we were kids. i'm not saying all crunchy game design is like this — honestly, i think crunchiness is a totally different spectrum from rules-complexity — but i do think that, sometimes, in an effort to feel sprawling and more importantly substantial, games become inefficient and more or less illegible. it is hard to play d&d. it is hard to hold all those rules in your head. by comparison, dream askew, dream apart, and wanderhome can held pretty easily in your head. you could probably even reconstruct some of the playbooks from the design fundamentals (act weak = gain token, act strong = spend token, evocative picklist). the most important thing about these games is that the rules are evocative and they let you stay in the fun part of play for as long as possible, interrupted as little as possible.

let me make this totally clear: the fun part of a game can absolutely be tallying numbers and consulting armor ratings, but i don't think that's the reason some of these games get so big. the real answer is: cutting shit is hard! eliminating systems is hard! saying "this is not helpful, let it go" is really tough, especially when you're left with a design document that was shorter (and by extension, whispers the awful voice in the back of your head, worth less) than you were expecting. still, it's important to remember: 'good system design' is not the same thing as 'filling as many pages as possible.', even if that's hard to accept in an industry that feels like it has to be prices and paid by the page.

how does all this affect beneath pirate flags? well, that's simple — pretty quickly in my recent playtesting, i realized that pausing mid-session to create new maps, forts, ships, and so on sucks ass. it's fun to brainstorm with friends, but the environmental generation throws off the pacing of sessions in a way the wanderhome kith stuff just doesn't. why? there's too much shit in my environmental playbooks! wanderhome has two picklists per nature and one per trait. askew & apart have just one per setting element — and you only have to do it once per campaign. beneath pirate flags has five. five! it sucks! and cutting out that unecessary shit — even if i do want to straddle the middleground between dream askew & dream apart's simplicity and wanderhome's sprawling growth — is going to be the hard first step on the long road to getting this game where it ought to be.

[gremoria411]

Alrighty then, I finished watching Gundam: The Witch from Mercury’s season finale yesterday, so I’m gonna note down my thoughts here, starting with characters, with another post about the mobile suits.

Spoilers ahead, obviously.

I really enjoyed the progression of Suletta and Miorine’s relationship during the season. It had a lovely slow-burn with moments of extreme heat quality to it (if that makes sense as a metaphor), particularly episode 11. The other members of Earth house are absolutely charming as well, them each having a solid personality to get attached to. I was disappointed we didn’t see a little more of them, but I expect they’ll be much more prominent in the next season. I was pleasantly surprised by Chuatury Panlunch, who’s just wonderful to watch and I enjoyed what little we saw of Nika Nanaura (though considering Chuchu’s getting a new suit next season, we’ll definitely be seeing more of them).

I did love the contrasts between the parents this season, with the outwardly nice Madame Prosepera/Elnora Samaya being contrasted with the aloof and standoffish Delling and Harsh Vim Jeturk, who nonetheless love their children (though I admit I may be reading into the season finale a little much there). I was honestly kinda sad to see Vim go, just because the Jeturk’s have just been so interesting to watch and the loss of one is unfortunate. Though this does mean that Guel’s younger brother Lauda is now head of the company.

Which, if I’m being honest, seems like it’s gonna end really badly.

Talking about the Jeturk’s neatly segues into talking about the rivals - Guel, Shaddiq and Elan. I’ve been absolutely loving Guel’s arc this season, with his actions during the finale being (while horrifying) an absolute standout. I’m very much looking forward to seeing where he goes from here (and I really hope he doesn’t die). Shaddiq’s been interesting, and I find it notable that he’s been basically dominating the scene except when he’s in a mobile suit, where he gets absolutely wrecked. I do hope we get to see more of his entourage in subsequent seasons though, since they’ve only really been stomped by suletta so far. Of note is that so far he appears to be the only character to have a genuinely positive relationship with his father, which is interesting.

Elan is difficult to talk about, principally because there’s three of him (so far). Number four (the first one we see) is only around briefly and while lovely, exists mostly as a sacrificial lamb to establish the darker tone. Number 5 (the manipulative one) hasn’t done all that much yet, so I have little to say about them. The original (the one in the suit) has officially dethroned Delling as the villain I most look forward to getting their comeuppance. We also haven’t seen that much of Peil’s CEO’s yet, though at a guess I’d say they’re the bigger threat here.

Now just some other observations that don’t really fit anywhere else:

While Dawn of Fold is interesting (since we’re finally seeing some more Earthican representation), I care more about the individual characters (Norea Du Noc, Sophie Pulone and Naji Geor Hija) than their actual cause, at least for the moment. Again, very much looking forward to seeing more of them, and their relation with Nika (Though I do fully expect at least two of them to die horribly at some point).

I was very happy to see Kenanji Avery (the antagonist from the prologue) make a return, even though I’m absolutely certain he’s going to die at some point.

I really wanted to like and trust Lady Prospera/Elanora at first, but eventually the manipulation and Char vibes just got too strong.

Speaking of, I do suspect that Suletta’s whole “move forward gain two” mantra might be a blockword or trigger phrase or something, given how utterly Gung Ho she is about killing people during the final parts of the finale. Then again, I suppose she could just be applying what her mother’s taught her without fully thinking about the consequences (really girl, don’t try to be all romantic while you’re covered in blood). I did love the symbolism of her mother leading her onto the bloodstained floor though, that was really great.

[hey-its-cweepy]

Hey its fumi being annoying again but... call it curiousity... you think there is anyone of your ocs who could get along with Carol... she is just my most fav oc to talk about so I just collect stuff for her as usual.XD

YOU ARE NOT ANNOYING- *loving bonk*

But hmmmmm- Carol-

Kinda obvious, but I think the more friendlier ocs would definitely go well with Carol (like Dell, Momo, Cweepy the oc)

But if Im going into specifics-

Faust, Kenzo, Benibara, mean gorls trio👹💅✨™ (Avery, Clover, Jolie) and Aotome would probably be OUT tho bcs they're pricks

Dallas is an obvious no because he's more of a prick than the last people💀

Banji has a bit of a temper, so if she bumped into him at the wrong time he'd be a bit of a salty prick, but otherwise they could probably be friends (I need to develop Banji more tbh lol)

Kumo would probably be a slow friendship if she stuck around long enough, he starts out a bit prickly but he's a sweetie at heart

Cho-Hee's a similar situation except he's just unintentionally big and spooky to people😔✌️

Cweepy's pretty shy at first, but I think they could still be friends! And Cweepy would be very hesitant to ask for help from Carol tho- she doesnt do well with strict attitudes

The Festus twins are just protective over each other, but they could still probably be friends!

Marinus might be unfortunately OUT, since he might unintentionally jump Carol if he was hungry enough💀 ALTHOUGH maybe it could work if she just packed snacks in her bag just in case (kind of like this post!)

If Carol was 2 inches taller, Momo would vanish💀 but since she's not, they could be friends after like a week or so! However, I feel like Carol probably wouldnt be able to unless she can keep Dallas out of the image PLEASE SAVE MOMO

Venus and Dell would probably approach Carol first! They're both very curious and social so they'd be interested in knowing about her!

Hextian and Kamïk are also OUT because I dont think Carol can handle the utter stench that comes from Hex (unless she has a face-mask ig?), He's not a bad guy! He just stank💀

Kamïk is because he's a mischievous gremlin, however, if he's with his girlfriend (who I still need to draw+make refs for💀) they're much more tolerable and friendly!

Roan is maybe a no, because he's also kinda prickly

Pepper is really paranoid, so its unfortunately a no😔✌️

((I hope you dont mind I include RSA/HSA OCs too!))

Amos might be a bit too forward and flirtacious so idk if Carol is ok with that lol

Enid would be alright with Carol! Kinda like the bestie that fights people for you-

Lorien might be friends if they ask Carol for assistance in subjects they struggle with!

Jessica would probably call Carol a wimp for sucking at sports, Im sorry 💀

Mao wouldnt really say much, but just know they're listening<3

Sylvester's a fucking bitch /LHLHLH okay but would leave more questions than answers

Mindel and Carol would definitely be friends! Someone to chill with in a sort of coffee shop setting while looking through notes or smth

Jaiden would also enjoy being friends with Carol! He doesn't mind the clumsiness and sort of relates (despite being able to go around and adapting to life with his eyes closed, if he's in a hurry he's more likely to crash into people/things)

Frey would also want to approach Carol first! Might ramble about tomatoes and gardening!

Cherokee would probably see an opportunity to flex the magic tricks >:)

If he ever got tutoring from someone else's recommendations, he probably accidently dozed off once and then never again

Shiloh would be quite shy at first but eventually open up to her! Probably sees her as a big sister and would develop the habit of holding her hand a lot

[angrelysimpping]

Lost my password to original account so here we go. First, namesake ask: How do you think the characters would react to an Ace!PC? I personally feel like Kylar might loose it at high hysteria(?) not accepting that they're *not* sexually attracted to him back, even though they aren't towards anyone. Also, how do you think the reactions would differ for a sex!negative/repulsed Ace!PC? I feel like there's the more likely to accept (Pure Sydney, Robin) and those who don't care (Whitney, Eden), but how about others, like Corrupt!Sydney (assuming corruption came from someone/somewhere else)?

(Acephobia + longer post = under a cut it goes. Other content warnings: noncon, gaslighting, and victim blaming; none of it that explicit)

Alex honestly probably doesn't know about asexuality, you'll have to explain it to them. Might take it personally that you don't find them sexually attractive, you really have to hammer it home that you don't find anyone sexually attractive. After a while, they let it go. Still, if you ever want to have sex, for whatever reason, Alex is game. If you're sexually repulsed/negative you really have to hammer it home that it's not them, you just don't like sex. End of. No other reason. Otherwise, they respect your boundaries fairly well.

Avery doesn't particularly care, as long as you give them what they want and when they want it. Whether what they want is for you to look good on their arm or lay under them, Avery just wants you to submit. At low rage, they respect your boundaries if you're sex-repulsed. Sure, they're a bit chagrined when you turn them down, but once you explain yourself, they feel better. It soothes their ego that you don't like having sex at all, rather than you could have sex with them but you're choosing not to. At high rage, they don't care. In fact, they use it against you. You should have continued as Avery's arm candy, but no, you had to be a brat. In Avery's eyes, your sex repulsion just makes pinning you down in the back of their car and having their way with you the most logical punishment.

Good, Bailey doesn't want to have any feelings for them, let alone sexual ones. Sex-repulsed? Not their problem.

Eden is one of the worse. They conflate sex with acceptance, to some degree. You might be better off never telling Eden that you don't experience sexual attraction. As for sex repulsion, you can try explaining it to them, but it cannot be guaranteed that Eden will understand or care. I like to think high love Eden is a bit better about respecting your boundaries. Still tries to initiate things and will eventually snap and force you if you deny them too often. Then, gaslights and victim blames. They're stroking your hair, saying they just can't help themself. You're so beautiful/handsome. They need you. You don't feel sexual attraction, you don't understand how much it hurts them. All you have to do is grit your teeth and let Eden do what they want. Is that so hard? (It is in your best interest to either agree with them or to not answer at all. They will take your silence as agreement, though.)

Great Hawk does not understand sexual attraction, really, just mate spouse. If you try to explain it to them, they get sad, thinking they haven't proved themself a good mate. Tries harder, preening more and bringing you more gifts. If you're sex-repulsed, they're just more confused. They still try to start things, but always stop when you ask them to.

You're right about hysterical Kylar. They can accept you being asexual, to a degree. You still love them, right? So it's all fine! And you don't have to be sexually attracted to someone to have sex so it must mean really love Kylar, right? Because you'll have sex with them because they want to, right? (It doesn't really matter how you respond here, Kylar 100% believes that you would have sex with them if they asked you to. Even if they've literally asked you to have sex before and you keep turning them down. That just means the timing was off or you were busy or something.) The more jealous Kylar gets, the more likely they are to insist that you don't know what you're talking about. If you just let Kylar show you, then maybe you would understand. Same with sex repulsion. Low jealousy Kylar doesn't want to do anything to hurt you. As their jealousy rises, the pushier they become

Leighton doesn't care about your sexuality, they just see you as a toy anyway. Mocks you, says they'll "teach you the pleasures of sex" or something along those lines if they ever fuck you. Really focuses on making you cum if they buy your time at the brothel, saying you're just "confused." Doesn't care if you're sex-repulsed at all.

Remy doesn't care, they'll do what they want regardless of your sexuality. Mostly, this means milking you.

Robin is probably the best about respecting you, takes it in stride fairly well. Will check and ask if you're alright with them even kissing you. Gets worried at low confidence if you try to start anything, worried that you're doing it not because you want to, but because of some misconceived notion that you have to. They'll only voice such concerns with high confidence. Either way, they let you do what you want.

It's 50/50 on if Sydney already knows what asexuality is, thanks to Sirris, or if they're completely in the dark. 100% going to research it, regardless. Is fine with you being asexual. Gets a bit confused if you initiate any sexual activities with them, but if that's what you want to do, they'll try it. The more corrupt they become, the less they question it. If you're sex-repulsed and somehow end up in the prayer room with corrupt Sydney? They can't stop, even if they wanted to.

And Whitney should care why? A little offended that you don't find them sexually attractive, a little thrilled over the fact that your lack of sexual attraction probably means that the only time you'll have sex is because Whitney wants you to. Because, honestly, your lack of sexual attraction isn't going to stop Whitney from fucking you or trying to sell you. Sex-repulsed? Your problem, not Whitney's.

Wren just rolls with it. A little surprised, especially if you've played blackjack with them, but not bothered by it in the least. Keeps blackjack games the same because a bet is a bet, isn't it? If you don't want to, you can always back out. Oh, you're sex-repulsed? Huh. Okay. Maybe they'll think of some different bets then. Something so Wren can still have fun and it won't chase you off.

[necros-writing-stuff]

OK THE LITERAL SINGLE LINE YOU HAD IN THE ABO POST ABT AVERY CHAINING UP THEIR OMEGA GAVE ME THOUGHTS……cw obviously for dub/noncon and kidnapping….

i think it’d be more likely to happen with a particularly meek and endearing s/o!! avery would probably feel like they’d have to cut off an omega who was too defiant or promiscuous even after they’d been warned to behave in order to like protect their reputation n stuffbut with this darling, trembling little thing?? who can barely look them in the eyes, who always gets so nervous when avery puts a hand on their thigh, whose eyes well up and hands shake so cutely when avery dangles their rent and has them strip?? they would never betray avery by rubbing up against some other, lesser alpha. they know that. but with your sweet little face and voice and your too-kind heart, how can avery trust others not to take advantage of you??

they’ve seen the way everyone eyes you, especially that silly little orphan alpha friend of yours. robin, was it? no, that won’t do at all. they want you all to themselves, all of your body and your affections. it’s only a matter of time before avery decided they’ve had enough. instead of driving you home after a date they keep going, keep going until you finally, hesitantly, ask where you’re headed. they just laugh and tell you not to worry about it, unconcerned with how you shake in your seat and tears drip down your chin. but if you start pleading them to turn back and scrabbling at the child-locked door, they’ll give you a sharp look and amp up their pheromones just to remind you who’s in charge.

i’d imagine once avery has captured you they’d want to get married as soon as possible. just signing the papers and putting a ring on. it’s another matter of protecting their reputation, of warding off any questions people may ask about your sudden disappearance from the public eye for a little while. i also think there’d be phases of your captivity??

at first you’d just stay chained up in averys room. theyd come in to feed you or use you sometimes. once avery thinks you’ve “calmed down” enough they’ll give you freedom around the house. your wrists and ankles are still shackled together so you can’t run but at least you’re not fastened to anything. your new wardrobe is filled with nothing but sheer and lacy lingerie. sometimes avery will tell you to just go naked. youre expected to be performing your duties as their spouse by this phase - cooking (you can wear an apron), cleaning, and getting down on your knees or spreading your legs when asked to. you might cry and whimper, sure, but that’s nothing new even before the whole kidnapping thing.

at last avery might feel comfortable letting you out in public- but only with them, of course. your alpha. the first thing they’d do is have a small wedding ceremony to show off their perfect little trophy omega, now officially marked and mated, to the elites. then they would start taking you to social events again. those would be the only times you were allowed out of the house and you always have to wear your collar when you go out. you’re so good and sweet and pliant now like you were before but on the chance that you suddenly start resisting again it’d be right back to the first phase,,

um anyways that was a lot longer then i intended idk!! i’m not even that big of an avery stan but smth abt being their obedient little house spouse struck a chord ig 😭😭

This is exactly the kinda stuff I was thinking of when I was writing that line!

Avery doesn't want to replace you, you're so good for their image, but the risk is just too high to pretend everything is normal and okay.

They eventually end up realising how reliant and attached they've become to you, expecting a kiss good morning, their breakfast to be made, the house cleaned top-to-bottom and it for a moment fills them with anger. But they calm down and decide thats when they know they have to breed you. And to start planning the wedding.

[epicspheal]

Heya! I hope your doing well!

Ever since swsh gave the rivals something to do after the fact( something that I believe only happened to Blue), I can't help but think of the rivals prior who haven't. What do you think they end up doing? I know that Blue ends up becoming a gym leader, but would still be interesting what you plan for him too! :3

Hi there @ihopethisendswell! So actually, it's the norm typically for the rivals to have something to do, even if it's just continuing being a roaming trainers. Being a roaming trainer is still just as valid of a career path as other routes given the way the Pokemon world works, it's just not as solid of a career path as say gym leader or research assistant. Pokemon Sword and Shield is one of the only main games that really puts emphasis on the rivals' alternate careers paths as part of the plot outside of the gen 5 games. So like you have Blue who becomes gym leader and also helps his grandpa with his research by still be a roaming trainer (much to the frustration of anyone trying to challenge his gym). By the time of Sun and Moon/USUM he has ditched the gym to become battle facility which ultimately given his status as a former champion ends up being a much more fitting role. Granted he needed that time as a gym leader as long standing humbling exercise so it wasn't a bad call at all. Then we have Silver, who remains a roaming trainer, though he kind of mainly sticks around the Dragon's Den because he really wants to avenge that loss to Lance and show how much he has changed. Then we have Brendan/May (when not the protagonist) who end up going back to being full time assistants professor Birch. Wally on the other hand, is much like Silver in that he continue to be a roaming trainer, with him staying around the Battle Resort in ORAS with him eventually going to the Battle Tree by the time the SM/USUM events occur.

Barry also follows the roaming trainer route with him staying Stark Mountain in Diamond/Pearl and with Platinum he hangs around the Survival area.

Gen 5 is where the rival's future goals get the most attention, and was the best well done (SwSh in my opinion failed hard on the rival's goals bar Klara and Avery's). Bianca is still my favorite "how to do a future career path" ending in the entirety of series which is she really doesn't know. She ends up taking up a position as Professor's Juniper's assistant. However it's this linefrom Bianca in Pokemon Black 2/White 2 that I really enjoyed:

"Actually, I'm not sure being a professor's assistant is really what I want to do... But when I do the work, I have lots and lots of fun!" I really appreciated that they allowed Bianca to have doubts that this is her final career path. She's still a child and I can remember when I was her age (God, I sound so old) how many career paths I thought about in that time frame...and only one of those comes even remotely close to what I'm attempting to go back to school for. I liked how she's just trying to things and aiming for experiences while not trying to commit herself to one specific path. Now obviously this could theoretically be true for any number of the rivals as with the exception of Blue (and Wally although for some odd reason they didn't give him an aged up model considering he'd be just as old as Red and Blue are) we don't see them as adults and their ambitions could very well have indeed changed over the years. Then you have Cheren who after that scolding from Alder really begins to question his pursuit of strength and what he really wants to do. Cue 2 years later in BW2 where we see him as the Aspertia City gym leader as well a lecturer at the trainer's school. Fitting as it shows his desire and capabilities as a trainer but also allowing a more concrete goal than just pursuing strength but actually overseeing the future generations. And Hugh, another one of my favorite characters, concludes his story arc on forgiveness (since he had absolutely none for Team Plasma at the beginning of the story) ends up a roaming trainer but also helping the good side Team Plasma in Driftveil City reunite Pokemon that were stolen during the events of Black/White to their original trainers. So he has a goal and really touching one I might add, one of the few that doesn't revolve around battling or researching.

Then there's the XY rivals who were admittedly the most shafted. They all pretty much end up as roaming trainers except for Trevor who already had the aim of completing the Pokedex for Professor Sycamore and he continues to do so.

The no specific aim works the best, in my opinion, for Shauna as she really didn't have much of a goal to begin with outside of travelling/making memories, and much like I said with Bianca, it's okay for characters to not have a specific end game (although I personally see Bianca's route as better as although she isn't quite sure what she wants to do, she does take initiative and actively pursue a goal to gain experience and see if it's for her).

Serena/Calem (again when not the protag) having no set aim also works because they were most competitive of the group and continuing to be a trainer makes sense, but since they get hardly any development it just feels hollow and not satisfying. At least with characters like Wally, Silver and Barry who are roaming they all went through some major development. Lack of major development plus no end game just makes Serena and Calem unfortunately just not stand out.

Then Tierno...poor Tierno. He's my favorite XY character and I hate that screwed over so poorly. He actually a goal but the game doesn't allow us to see how a dance team would work. Kalos really could've benefitted from a Pokemon Contest/Musical like sidequest where Tierno shines in. So him being a roaming trainer is just...meh.

Now moving on to Gen 7 and best boy Hau (Hau's up there with Blue and Leon as one of my favorite Pokemon characters PERIOD). In both Sun and Moon and USUM he's a roaming trainer but I argue that Sun and Moon actually wrapped up his character better, despite USUM giving him much more in the way of development. By that I mean he explicitly mentions to the player that he wants become strong enough to find his father who fled Alola because the pressure of being the Kahuna's son was too much. So yeah he is still just a regular trainer, but he does have an explicit goal that goes beyond just trying to continue to measure up to the player. He also helps to train the reforming Team Skull grunts in the art of Alolan SuMo. In USUM this is erased for a more generic roaming trainer scenario unfortunately. Gladion's fate also changes depending on what version of the Gen 7 games you play. With Sun and Moon he ends up taking over as Aether's president but also still trains on the side as he is one of the challengers that can come for your title in the post game. In Ultra Sun and Moon he actually takes the "I'm going to Kanto" route instead of Lillie although he actually back and is essentially a roaming trainer since Lusamine's villainy was nerfed and therefore allowed to stay as Aether's president

Then there's Trace who ends up champion then loses it, but keeps on going in this endless circle of trying to reclaim it from the player. And then finally the Gen 8 rivals where we have Bede, Marnie, Klara and Avery all become gym leaders and Hop is a professor. Despite this cast having the most focus on their future paths since the gen 5 rivals I don't think they were done that well. Like Klara and Avery's worked, really well and they're probably the only rivals bar Trace and Blue who actually their goals (with them actually maintaining there dream status because their goal didn't involve becoming champion).

I've talked about Hop's on this post before but the lack of genuine foreshadowing just made his sudden declaration of wanting to be a Pokemon Professor just come out of nowhere. And honestly considering the fact that he had just come out of a depressive stage and still hadn't quite addressed his idolization issues I think he would've been served better with the Bianca route where yes he becomes Sonia's assistant, but it's clear that he's still trying to find his new path and that he's just open to trying out research rather than making a rather bold claim that this was his new career path. Either that or do better in the foreshadowing where he shows he has a much clearer interest in academia but feels like he needs to be a champion like his brother.

Then there's Marnie who I've also stated was kind of screwed over. Because she made it rather clear to Piers she didn't want to be gym leader (which makes sense given that she saw how that position screwed over older brother that she admires). She's pretty much doing this because she still has the motivation to save her hometown which is extremely admirable and mature. But also it's sad, like if she didn't have to do this, would she honestly still be gym leader. I think not, at least not immediately. Considering that gym challengers can still compete on the big stage with the champion's cup rematches and some even can be invited to the Galarian Stars Tournament, I think if I had of written that I would've focused on how with Leon as the head of MC he's going to actually work with Spikemuth to revitalize without shouldering the responsibility on one single person, especially a minor. And let her be a roaming trainer and live for herself and not continue to be Spikemuth's martyr.

Then there's Bede who quite vocally states when crashing the Champion's Cup that he was ready to retire. Like poor boy goes from being used as Rose's wishing star collector and fall boy to Opal's reirement plan. Like yes it's great that Opal actually remembers his name and gives him a support system and teaches him some discipline. But still it's kind of sad as he was very much okay with retiring but more or less gets goaded into staying because of the stadium audience.

So this post got way longer than I what it was going to be but hey that happens. But yeah too long don't read, all of the rivals do have a goal, even if a lot of them end up as roaming trainers. If I'm honest in most cases (bar the gen 6 rivals because they lacked developent) the roaming trainer thing works. Because they're kids and they still have their whole lives ahead of them and they don't need to have concrete job just yet. Especially because in some cases the concrete plan just doesn't always fit the character. It works best when it feels like an organic part of the story and not just trying to wrap things up for the sake of wrapping things up.

Finally, to answer your question about how I deal with Blue. Well in my Pokeverse (dubbed cactusverse in case you see me refer to my AU as this), I tend to be fairly canon compliant to the games. So after he loses his champion title to Red he becomes Viridian gym leader, slightly patches things up with grandfather by helping with the research and eventuallya head of the Battle Tree as an adult once he gains the Battle Legend Status (which is an actual legitimate title in cactusverse held currently only by him, Red and Leaf, although one of my OCs gets this designation as well). So nothing that really deviates from canon except for some offscreen events. Basically the battle legend status is bestowed if a major event happens that is taken care of by an already established powerful trainer. So there's a rather major plot thing the Kanto Trio gets involved in that once they take care of gives them their status.

Also for cactusverse there's the whole issue of the Viridian City gym. So it eventually it gets passed down to Trace as Blue has shown that he's become a bit too powerful to be a gym leader. He was honestly when he first got it probably still a bit overkill for an 8th gym leader, but he also really needed an attitude adjustment. And with Lance being a far better father figure to him than Oak could ever dream of, with the help of Agatha tried to rein in his egotistical and self important ways by giving him the position. Which worked very well. Still in cactusverse there's rules on the win percentage a gym can have and that's determined by position. Win too many for your rank and you get moved, vice versa if you lose too many, and sometimes you might even lose your position. The first and last gym leaders are always the most at risk of losing their status. This actually happens to Wallace, Iris and eventually Raihan because they just end up exceeding the strength of most challengers who try to challenge them. Hence why all three of them end up champions at some point cactusverse (Raihan does not become Galar's champion, but Johto's champion since I really like the idea of him spreading his wings beyong Galar).

Blue between the time of BW2 and SM had ended up getting to a point that no one had gotten a gym badge off of him in a couple of years which is unacceptable by league standards and he would've gotten booted out sooner had Lance not personally asked my OC Terra to come kick his butt and get a badge off of him. And cue possibly the most iconic and brutal gym battles to have ever gone down in a region of outside of Galar because two heartbroken champion tier trainers, who broke each other's heart is a recipe for a frightening battle. Lance happened to referree that match and might be a little traumatized. Terra won and he was able to give out his last badge before Red came back from his latest global trip and said let's go to Alola.

[hurricanery]

something good

A/N: Okay so I was going to write pt. 3 of If You Went Away tonight but then those promo pics came out and I was inspired to write some fluffy amelink instead. Also couldn’t get the image of Link holding Scout out of my head soooo here’s this. If you wanted pt. 3 don’t worry it’s coming, it’ll be the next thing I post!

_______

Amelia gasps awake suddenly, sitting up in bed. She looks at the clock. 4:33 AM.

It’s been happening a lot lately. The vivid dreams. The dreams that seem so realistic, they feel physically draining to wake up from. She doesn’t always remember the details. But in the moments that immediately follow her awakening, her mind is flooded with images of Meredith. And panicked thoughts about what’s going to happen to her.

Amelia knows that her sister-in-law’s current condition is the source of her stress. She spends most of her days worrying about Meredith. About what her being put on the ventilator truly means. And now the worry was creeping into her nights, too. Interrupting her sleep and making her heart race during the moments that were supposed to be the most calm and relaxing.

She sits all the way up and shifts to the side, placing her bare feet onto the floor below.

“Amelia,” she hears Link mutter sleepily behind her. She turns her head to the side, not fully looking at him.

“Hey.”

“You have another bad dream?”

Amelia smiles at the fact that he remembers. She never purposely wakes him up when the dreams happen. She always talks herself down until her mind is quiet and then eventually tries to fall back asleep. But, it was starting to become more physically obvious that she wasn’t sleeping well. It would be written all over her face the next day. She’d be dragging along, or she’d zone out too often, or suppress too many yawns. And so when Link had asked her what was up, she’d confessed about her interrupted sleep. About the vivid dreams that were hard to bounce back from.

“I’m good,” she doesn’t exactly answer his question. She gets up slowly, stepping into her slippers and moving towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Link still sounds like he’s half-asleep.

“I just have to check on the kids.”

“Hm?” Link seems a little more alert now, he’s sitting up partially and noticing the general quiet of the house. No baby crying. No movement from the other kids. “They’re good, no one’s crying.”

Amelia finally turns to him from the doorway, giving him a pleading look. “I just….have to.”

Link frowns.

“I’ll be right back.”

Amelia makes it a point to stop into every bedroom. She carefully approaches each door, peeking her head in to confirm what she already knows to be true. Zola is sound asleep. And when Amelia checks on Bailey, he stirs slightly, always a restless sleeper. Ellis is a sound sleeper like Zola, but also a heavy breather. Amelia smiles to herself as she recalls how Meredith would joke about Ellis one day developing her mother’s snoring habits.

When she approaches Scout’s nursery, she decides not to risk waking him up, knowing it will just add to her sleepless night. Instead, she places her ear to the door and listens for his sleepy babbling. The familiar sounds of her sleeping son comfort her and she forgets for a moment about Meredith. And about the current state of the world.

It’s Link’s snores down the hallway, carrying through from the open bedroom door, that shake her from her reverie. She tiptoes back to the room, leaving her slippers at the door. She collapses back onto her side of the bed and Link subconsciously rolls towards her, pulling her into his chest.

She breathes deeply; gratefully. She tries to sleep.

_______

A few days later, and Amelia is still feeling the repercussions of her sleepless nights.

She feels like she’s moving on autopilot as she folds the laundry. The distant sound of the TV, whatever movie she put on for the kids, fills her ears like mindless background noise. To her left, through the screened porch door, she can hear Maggie laughing loudly from somewhere outside. She peeks outside briefly to match voices with faces, before Link pulls her attention by walking in from outside.

“Oh hey,” Link grins.

“What’s Avery doing here?” Amelia questions.

“Oh, he had to drop something off to Maggie,” Link explains. “And then,” Link raises his eyebrow incredulously, “He had some things to discuss with me about Jo….”

Amelia squints at him. The tone of his voice matched with the look on his face leads her to believe that there’s a much bigger story there, perhaps for another time.

“Do I want to know?”

Link laughs, shaking his head. Just before he can answer, they are interrupted by Scout’s cries on the baby monitor. Amelia drops the clothes she’s folding and immediately moves towards the door.

“No, wait,” Link reaches for her shoulder, gently stopping her. “I got him. You should go out there and say hi to those guys.”

Amelia nods, letting him take this one.

Minutes later, when Link returns outside with Scout wrapped up in his arms, everyone else is heading out. He watches as Amelia waves goodbye and walks back across the yard in his direction.

“Someone’s awake?” She grins up at Link when she approaches.

“Oh yeah,” he looks down, matching her grin and adjusting the blanket. “Wide awake.”

Amelia’s phone rings, interrupting them, and Amelia glances towards the patio table, where she’d left her phone earlier. Her eyes grow wide momentarily as she focuses on Link, but then she’s quickly moving to answer it.

She looks down at the caller ID and her heart sinks.

“Dr. Bailey,” she answers, monotone voice.

Amelia doesn’t do a lot of talking after that. Just nodding. And Link watches cautiously, trying to gain any information from her facial expressions.

“Okay, thanks. Yeah. Thanks. Bye.”

Amelia hangs up the phone, placing it back down on the table slowly, and then releases a shaky breath.

“Amelia?” Link approaches her tentatively.

She stares ahead, avoiding eye contact with Link. Then shrugs somewhat apathetically. “There’s no news. No updates. She’s the same.” Amelia finally says.

Link sighs in relief. And Amelia’s eyes snap to his face.

“Why do you look relieved?”

Link shrugs, a little bit defensively. “Well that’s not bad news, exactly-”

“Right,” Amelia harshly interrupts. “It’s nothing at all, it’s-” she shakes her head, reaching up to rest her hands on top of her head. “What are we supposed to do with that?!”

Amelia’s voice is raised and it’s causing Scout to fuss. At the same time, the back door swings open and Zola steps out.

“Auntie Amelia?” her small voice grabs their attention.

“Zola,” Amelia greets her, doing her best to disguise her worry. “Is the movie over?”

“What’s going on?” Zola ignores her aunt’s question.

“Nothing, sweetie. We’ll be inside in a minute.”

Zola takes the hint and turns back around, heading inside. But Amelia can’t ignore the stress on her niece’s face. In a way, it mirrors her own.

“Amelia,” Link pulls her attention back. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he speaks again. “It’s not bad news. Let’s not treat it as bad news yet…”

Amelia stares at him, then nods. “I just need good news....I need something good.”

“Well,” Link offers a smile, trying to see the positive in the situation. “Let’s hold out for that, okay?”

Amelia nods again in agreement, walking closer to him until she’s standing by his side. She gently rests her head against his shoulder. They stand there, the three of them, in momentary bliss, or hopefulness, or false positivity, or whatever the moment revealed itself to be.

Amelia finally lifts her head away, instead reaching for Link’s free hand and leading them inside. She glances up at Link. “I’ll take him to bed,” she reaches for Scout. “Will you reheat the kids some mac and cheese for a late dinner? I might go to bed early, too.”

“You should,” Link responds, surprised at the idea of Amelia actively attempting to get some sleep. “You need it.”

Amelia just smiles tiredly at him, her exhaustion catching up with her rapidly. She walks slowly up the stairs with Scout in her arms and listens to the excitement below as Link announces dinner to the kids.

After putting Scout down, Amelia realizes she can barely keep her eyes open. The weeks of restless sleep finally threatening to completely consume her. She can barely bring herself to change out of her jeans and sweater before collapsing into bed.

_______

Amelia wakes at 6:11 AM feeling surprisingly refreshed. It feels like forever since she’s slept through the night, and even though it feels fantastic, it also feels confusing. She hasn’t woken up on her own accord in a long time. Whether it was the stress dreams, or the sound of Scout’s cries, she’d typically be forced awake at some point.

But this morning, she wakes naturally. It’s confusing. And what’s equally puzzling, is the absence of Link next to her.

Blinking a few times to shake her sleep, Amelia gets out of bed. She shivers slightly, throwing one of Link’s sweatshirts on and walking down the hall to Scout’s Nursery.

It’s still dark outside, but with the street lamps filtering in from window, Amelia can make out her favorite scene in front of her. Link stands, humming softly, rocking Scout gently in his arms. It’s beyond adorable, and Amelia wouldn’t dare to interrupt the moment, so she hangs back and just observes.

“We can’t be up this late, little guy,” Link mutters. “I know there’s lots of not sleeping around here these days....But we can’t make a habit out of this….” He trails off and Scout sneezes lightly into Link’s neck, causing Link to stifle a laugh.

Link walks to the window and pulls open the curtains. Sunrise was on its way, the sky just barely starting to blush golden pink. Scout’s bright-eyed gaze turns to the outside, enamored. And Link watches Scout’s wonder.

The moment almost becomes too much for Amelia. It makes her heart clench to remember how profoundly afraid of this she was, how sure she was about never going through another pregnancy, or having another child. She looks at Link and Scout now, watches this perfect moment, and knows she wouldn’t trade anything in the world for this.

Scout starts to fuss a little bit in Link’s arms. A classic move for him in the middle of the night or early morning.

“Hey,” Link soothes. “Shhh, it’s okay.”  He cuddles Scout up near his neck. Amelia watches as Link turns his head and gives Scout a kiss on the cheek, humming again to him softly.

Over Link’s shoulder, Scout makes eye contact with Amelia and lets out a happy gurgle. Link turns around, unaware that he was being watched, and grins when he sees Amelia. “Well look who’s here, Scout. Someone was trying to sneak up on us.”

“I was not,” Amelia retorts playfully.

“Sure,” Link teases as Amelia steps into the nursery and joins them, dropping a kiss on her son’s head. “We’re just hanging out. Didn’t want to wake you.”

“Ah, right,” Amelia grins. “How long have you guys been up?”

Link shrugs. “Just for a little bit.”

They both can’t help but stare down at their little guy. Scout’s eyes are growing heavy. And he sighs sleepily.

With a carefulness that still makes Amelia’s heart want to burst out of her chest, Link eases Scout off his shoulder and puts him down into his crib. "Good night, bud,” he whispers. Smiling, he turns back to Amelia and pulls her in at the waist, kissing her on the forehead. “Let’s go back to bed,” he offers.

The sun starts to rise as they walk back down the hall, Scout’s sleepy babble drifting away from them.

“You good?” Link questions as they climb back into bed.

Amelia nods, rolling onto her side to face Link.

“That’s good,” he mumbles, and Amelia laughs at how quickly Link becomes incoherent with sleep. “Everyone’s….good....” He trails off.

“Can’t think of another word?” Amelia stifles a laugh.

Link sighs, on the verge of unconsciousness. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

“It is tomorrow.”

Link’s quiet snores fill the space between them and Amelia smiles at the lack of response. For the first time in a long time, she feels restful.

//

[jobrookekarev]

Interruptions Be Damned

Chapter: two of ?

Words: 3254

Summary: All the times Alex and Jo got caught having sex and the one time they didn’t. Or Jo and Alex are very horny at the hospital, much to the dismay of their co-workers.

Chapter Summary: Jo and Alex sneak off to the parking lot for some fun times but are interrupted as their co-workers head home as well.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev, Richard Webber, and Jackson Avery.

Rating: Explicit.  

Additional Tags: Not for the Kids! Lemons, Sexy Times, Car Sex.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

Jo was in a mood. Ever since she had gotten pregnant, her moods swung between not getting enough of Alex, to wanting nothing to do with him because he was the reason she was puking her guts out. Tonight she was in a mood where she couldn't get enough of him. His hands on her waist and his thumb rubbing the exposed skin of her hip just wasn't enough for her. Jo wanted his hands on her bare skin. 

“I need you,” Jo leaned in to whisper to him, her breath warm against his ear compared to the cold night air as they walked out of the hospital and into the parking garage. 

“Yeah?” Alex smirked over at her when she pulled back and stopped walking to pull her hips closer to him.

“Yeah, and I really don't think I can wait until we get home,” Jo said, letting her hands run down the collar of his shirt as her fingers danced over the little bit of exposed skin.

She leaned in to kiss him as he pulled her body flush against his. His lips were hot and wet and just what she wanted, but she still stepped away towards the car. She walked backwards as she watched him process the fact that her body had left his before he got that smirk again. Jo turned around and ran to the car, letting Alex chase her. 

She giggled as she ran ahead while Alex ran after her. She reached his car before he did, a small black four-door SUV he had bought soon after they found out she was pregnant. Alex had unlocked the car while they were running and Jo opened the door to the back seat. She bent over the back seat before looking over her shoulder and wiggled her ass at Alex, who shook his head as he rushed over. 

His hands when straight to her hips as Jo quickly undid her pants and Alex helped her pull them down to her ankles. The cold night air stung the skin of her bare ass and legs, but the goosebumps that had appeared were quickly smooth over by Alex's large warm hands. She looked back to see him groan at the sight of her naked pussy as she leaned back and rubbed her ass against the front of his jeans. Jo could feel his erection press against her and the familiar coil of arousal wound up inside of her. One of Alex's hands gripped the soft flesh of her hips as he tried to undo the front of his pants and free his cock. 

“Hey, Karev,” Webber called to them as they both froze in place. 

Alex looked up to see Webber walking up to them in front of the car. The open door thankfully hid Jo’s naked ass from view, but she quickly scrambled into the backseat. Alex rushed to put his cock away but left the door open as she grabbed the blanket from the floor of the car to put it over her bare legs. Her heart was already beating faster because of her arousal and it pounded loudly in her chest at the thought of what Webber might have seen. From her spot in the dark car, Jo looked up through the windshield to see Webber walking by.

“Dr. Webber, heading home?” Alex asked as he leaned against the still open car door as he hid behind it, still very hard as his erection pressed against his pants.

Jo wanted to scream at him for trying to make small talk while she was half naked in the backseat, but she could only watch through the window as Webber came over to them.

“Yes, I was looking forward to a quiet, peaceful evening,” Webber said as he smiled at Alex. For a second, Jo thought that maybe they hadn't been caught but, pulled the blanket up over just to be sure.

“Yeah it's a nice night,” Alex agreed with a forced smile as he tried to remain relaxed.

There was an awkward pause between them and Jo could feel the tension in the air before Alex finally spoke again. “Well, good night.”

“Good night, Karev, and say goodnight to your wife, I'm not sure she can hear us from the back seat,” Webber said, with a nod to Alex

Jo looked up in horror as Alex looked down at her before looking back at Webber as he floundered like a fish, his mouth flopping open as he tried to speak. “Jo, she's not, she's not here, she's at home, yep at home, where I should be too.”

Webber only looked over at him with a shake of his head. “In the future Karev, the parking lot is not the best place for your marital activities.”

Webber walked over to his car as Jo put a hand over her mouth. She giggled uncontrollably at the absurd situation of being caught with their pants down in the parking lot like a pair of horny teenagers. Webber gave them one last wave as he got in his car and pulled out of the lot. Once he was gone, Alex looked around the parking lot for a second before he looked over at her and Jo let out a full laugh. 

Alex just shook his head and grabbed her ankles, pulling them back until she was once again bent over the seat. Jo’s laughter turned into a moan and as his erection pressed up against her and he reached around to tease her clit with his fingers. Alex pulled down his zipper in record time as the head of his dick replaced his fingers, rubbing against her clit. Jo moaned as he collected her wetness around his cock before he quickly pushed into her. 

She gasped and moaned as Alex started with quick and eager thrusts. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back against him as they fucked. It was fast and quick and dirty with none of their usual flares or quick tricks they used to drive the other wild. This was quick and needy and full of lust. 

Alex reached around to rub her clit again and Jo withered under his hand. She was so worked up as her hormones seem to flow through her and her skin felt hot despite the cold air around her. She reached back and grabbed Alex’s wrist as she guided his movements. Jo clenched her walls around his cock as Alex's thrust faltered and he moaned. 

“Oh god Jo,” Alex groaned in her ear and she knew he was just as worked up as she was.

He pushed in deeper, hitting her cervix as he thrust in fast and short strokes that he knew she liked. After that, Jo was a goner, she was so overwhelmed with how good it felt. His movements back and forth over her g-spot, his cock head hitting her cervix, and his fingers on her clit sent her into a state. She could only grip his hand as she gasped and moaned. 

Alex leaned over just enough to press up a kiss to the side of her neck and bury his nose in her hair before he pulled back. Jo leaned down on the seat, resting her head on her arms. Alex held her hips up to leave enough room for her baby bump to still be in the air instead of pressed against the seat.

Usually, Jo didn't like this position as it meant she couldn't look at him, but she was so far gone and she was consumed by her pleasure. She couldn’t even think of anything other than Alex’s cock still thrusting inside of her, going at this quick pace as she chased her orgasm that curled up in her stomach. He knew her body like he knew his own, and although she knew this was immensely pleasurable for both of them, she could tell that he was deliberately working her up more than he was focusing on his own pleasure.

“Alex, please,” Jo begged him as he continued to thrust into her. She knew he could go faster and harder but was holding out on her.

Alex groaned as he finally started to go faster, drumming in and out of her. That was just what Jo needed to send her over the edge. Her orgasm coiled like a spring inside of her before she exploded. She cried out and nearly screamed as she came. Jo’s mind went blank with pleasure and her legs shook as she withered in the backseat. Alex continued to rub her clit until she cried out as it became too much, and he moved to put his hand around her waist, holding her up as she collapsed against the seat.

She barely even realized Alex was already coming until he threw his head back and groaned her name. As he came she felt him still inside of her, buried to the hilt as he filled her up with his cum. Jo clenched around him, giving him an extra ounce of pleasure as his cock twitched inside of her. He held her hips against his as he finished inside her warm pussy.

They both came back from their orgasms with hot and heavy breath making a fog against the cold night air. Alex pulled out of her and Jo rolled onto her side to lay on the back seat. Alex leaned his forehead against his arm on the top of the car as they exchanged a smile. They took a moment to catch their breath as they just stared at each other in the post orgasmic haze. 

Eventually, Jo grew cold and pulled the blanket over her bare legs as Alex grabbed the wipes and tissues from the console. This wasn't the first time they had screwed around in the car and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Alex wiped off his penis as it was drenched in their fluids, and Jo reached down to feel her wet folds as his cum dripped out of her. Alex looked up and shook his head as he grabbed another wipe. He handed her one so she could whip her vulva as he reached down to wipe her thighs before it dripped onto the seat below her. He always came like a geyser when he came inside of her, and honestly, she was surprised she hadn't gotten pregnant earlier.

“Damn Jo, that was...” Alex shook his head as he trailed off.

“The best quickie we've had since I climbed on your lap after your meeting with Bailey.”

Alex chuckled as he nodded and put his cock away before he sat down next to her. He grabbed a tissue and ran it over her thighs and vulva. Alex always helped her clean up the mess between her thighs as Jo leaned back against the door.

“We got caught by Meredith that time too,” Alex said, and Jo giggled as she remembered how Meredith had burst into the meeting room. 

“At least Webber had the decency to not talk to you for like ten minutes while you were inside me,” Jo groaned, her cheeks turning red as she put her fingers over her mouth.

“She just kept going on and on, and we were so close to coming before that, but as she kept going I could feel myself softening inside of you,” Alex said with a laugh and leaned down to kiss her lips. 

“Oh God it was so bad,” Jo said as she covered her face as Alex continued to kiss her hands and make her laugh. 

“Luckily for you, I made a good recovery,” Alex said, kissing her lips again before he pulled back and helped her pull her pants back up her legs. He gave her baby bump a little kiss and Jo smiled. She loved how much Alex loved their baby even before they were born. They got out of the back seat, and Alex opened the front door for her and got her settled, and buckled her seatbelt before he went over to the driver’s side. 

“Do you want to go home and try for round two?” Jo asked, leaving over and putting a hand on his thigh as she whispered in his ear. 

She couldn't help how horny she was. Jo just couldn't get enough of Alex. Alex glanced over at her with a smirk as Jo trailed her fingers to where his zipper was still undone. She pulled out his dick through his boxers as he quickly grew hard again in her hand. He always did make a quick recovery for her.

“For fuck sake Jo, if I had known how horny you'd be, I would have gotten you pregnant years ago,” Alex said as he groaned and pushed his cock into her hands, moaning as he closed his eyes and got lost in her hand.

“If I had known how much you'd put out for me, I would have let you,” Jo said with a smirk as she continued to stroke him.

He wanted a baby with her for years, but he respected Jo's desire to wait until after she finished her residency. Each time Jo pushed it off, Alex would smile and nod. She knew he was disappointed, but he always respected her decision. Alex waited until she was ready, and the night they got legally remarried, she surprised him by throwing out all of their contraceptives and they got pregnant only months later. Since then Alex had willingly given in to all of her desires, and as much as her hormones frustrated her at times she loved being intimate with him.

“Hey, It’s the Karev’s,” Jackson said in a deadpan voice. “In the parking lot.”

Jo and Alex both looked up to see Jackson glaring at them. Wide eyed at being caught yet again, Jo instantly pushed Alex’s cock down as she covered it with her hand and looked away from Jackson.

“We were just leaving,” Alex said, starting up the car and Jo put his cock away. 

“Yeah, please go home,” Jackson said as glared at them before he turned and got into his car that was parked next to them. 

Alex quickly put the car into drive as Jackson go into his car and they quickly drove out of the parking lot. It took them both a moment to recover as they drove home, but as the embarrassment faded they shared a look and burst out laughing. 

“If we're going to have car sex again, we need to do it somewhere else,” Jo said as she threw her head back against the headrest with a laugh.

“Either that or we need to put up one of those car sun shields so no one can see us,” Alex suggested as he raised an eyebrow and glanced over at her. 

“I don't know how you can make a sun shield sound so sexy,” Jo said as she shook her head and looked over at him.

Alex jokingly raised his eyebrows up and down, making her laugh again. “What do you say we pick this up once we get home.”

“Oh, I am definitely not done with you yet,” Jo smiled as she felt her cheeks turn red with desire as the fire grew inside her again.

[fluorescencefuture]

Homestuck^2: How I’d write the Omega Kids (and the Candy timeline villains)

I haven't reread Homestuck nor the epilogues in a while so correct me if I'm wrong with anything here. This was all in one go, too, so I probably missed something here or there. I'm also not a native English speaker so pardon some grammar errors.

In General

I’d give them a five-letter name scheme. Names of a group being the same length was a big deal in original HS (human first names had four letters, troll names had six, Ancestors had eight-letter titles, Cherubs had eight letters too, etc.), so it’s odd seeing this new group have names of varying length

I’d also give them all shirt symbols. It’s odd that something so iconic to Homestuck isn’t present in the new kids, either.

I'll write for both the canon post-canon with evil Jane and for my own version with different villains. Evil Jane happens because a highblood troll who hears of the old ways of Alternia attempts to kill her and take her crown, as she's technically the heiress. Jane wins, but she starts to see trolls and Alternian culture in a different light from then on. At first she was only trying to prevent the worst parts of Alternian culture from coming back, but over time grew to despise trolls, and ended up trying to force human culture onto Alternians.

The other Candy villains are a dangerous terrorist rebel group that wants to overthrow the creators and destroy them. They say the creators made the people, abandoned the people for years, then suddenly came back and decided they control the people. The group is made of humans, trolls, carapacians, and even consorts. The mysterious shadowed leader claims to be doing this for the people, but really, all they want is to have control for themselves, and they don't care if any innocents get in the way.

Harry Anderson

Has nothing to fix, he’s perfect as is

Okay but seriously, the guy is the kid with the least questionable things around him. He has no baggage from sharing the same name as an established character (ICP Harry Anderson doesn’t count), and he didn’t come from infidelity.

He also has actual color to his personality. He likes musicals and sewing. He has a good relationship with his dad. Like many kids with divorced parents, he wishes his parents were together again. What do the others have? Vrissy is just a slightly less aggressive Vriska. Tavros is just OG Tavros and Jake combined. Yiffy’s thing is being a dog girl named Yiffany Longstocking. The others could be fleshed out eventually, but with the slow pace and meandering plot we have right now, I doubt it.

If Jane's the villain, things would mostly go the same way. If Jane isn't the villain, it goes two ways: he decides to join Vrissy's guerilla anti-anti-creator group and fight because he wants to protect his parents, or he's just very anti-conflict and avoids the fight because he doesn't think he's up to it. He's frequently threatened but doesn't tell his parents about the threats. Eventually, he gets convinced to join and fight.

Vrissy

So Vrissy’s in relationships with guys who are technically her cousins. At first I was like “well, they’re not biologically related nor were they raised as family so it’s not weird”. But then Tavros called Kanaya “Aunt Kanaya” and now I’m thinking “oh god, that’s really weird”.

Now she’s just a troll girl from school. She's just close to Kanaya and Rose, but isn’t their kid. She isn’t related to anyone. Anyone except Vriska, who she was named after. Vrissy’s new nickname is just Vriss.

Alternatively, her name is something completely different. Honestly, it just seemed like a way to shoehorn in a Vriska for the story. Only for actual Vriska to come back anyway.

Uhh, Eshtha (from Jyeshtha, a Hindu nakshatra Scorpius is associated with)? Oriona (from Orion, the myth where Scorpius is mostly attributed to)? Naiaka (from Manaiakalani, as Hawaiians saw Scorpius as the demigod Maui’s fishhook)? Oh wait, I’ll have to make nicknames for those names too. Uh, Eshty, Riona, and Naiah.

Maybe have her have a personality that’s rather opposite to Vriska’s than have her as Vriska 2. She's more a perky goth, more cheerful and sweet. More "I knew you could do it!" than "So you can do something after all." A beast in battle, of course. She doesn't like to use her mind control powers, because she finds them disturbing.

If Vriska had to come back, the conflict would come from their conflicting personalities. Vriska would pretty much act the same way she did to (Vriska), but this time, Vriss doesn't take any of it and stands her ground.

Whether the villain is Jane or not, she's the one who decides to fight back, and she gets her friends and others to join her. The creators have been nothing but good to her, and she cares about them a lot, especially Rose and Kanaya. Not to mention they're also her friends' parents.

Tavros

Yeah, we’re gonna have to rename that kid. It never made sense to me why Jake and Jane named their kid after some guy they don’t know that well. I don’t remember everything from the Epilogues, but I’ll assume the reason was Gamzee or something. Also weird that Jane, who’s supposed to be racist to trolls, would just...let her kid be named after one.

Something old-ish would work. Flynn? Silas? Avery? Clyde? Niles? Louie?

He's moirails with this Vriss instead of kismeses. The Vrissy/Tavros kismesis also felt like re-hashing the kismesis that Vriska and OG Tavros kinda had.

If we went post-canon villain Jane, he'd be reluctant to join the rebellion and is more of a pacifist who would rather try to talk his mom out of it.

Alternatively, Jane and Jake are separated (but not divorced) and he lives with Jake. Because Jane was never terrible to him and Jake doesn't tell him how bad she's gotten, he disagrees with her but still tries to justify and rationalize that Jane's really doing it from a place of good intentions.

If the villain isn't Jane, then Jane and Jake have been hiding him away, and his friends can only see him when they visit him at his swanky home. You might say he's...housetrapped. He joins because his friends are in it, and doesn't quite grasp how serious things are until the rebels try to kill Jane (the rebels try to kill Jane first because you always kill the healer first).

He's in contact with a mysterious guide who's kinda spacy and a little terrifying at times. His friends think the guide might just be some creepy predator. It's revealed to be Candy Gamzee, out of the fridge and legitimately harmless, but untraceable and doing mysterious things behind the black. Again.

Come to think of it, Dirk's missing too...

Yiffany Longstocking

Yiffy is now the ectokid of Dave and Jade. She looks more like a DaveJade kid than JadeRose, really. Dave and Jade are also either happily married or coming close to an amicable divorce. Yeah, the toxic shit Jade did and the erasure of Dave's bisexuality also don't exist here. Jade, Dave, Karkat, and Terezi are backing Vrissy's anti-anti-creator group.

Her new name is something unisex. Riley? Logan? Robin? Sloan? Salem?

She spends a lot of time outside doing sports and doesn't talk much. She's not very close to the other three kids, but she's surprisingly pretty close to her Aunt Rose.

While Jade and Dave are out on a mission for Karkat (this is the mission Candy Dave dies), she gets kidnapped by the opposing force (Jane/the terrorists). She gets a shock collar forced on her, then is hidden away in a Boarding School for Inconvenient Girls, enrolled under the name "Yiffany Longstocking". Jade comes home to find that her family's been taken from her. Again.

Yiffy almost escapes, but she gets knocked out and taken back to base, where they lock her in a cage and treat her like a dog. She's still defiant to the end.

If Jane's the villain, Jake is inspired by Yiffy's defiance, grows some balls, exposes Yiffy's treatment to the press, and sets her free. She beats up the guards trying to stop her. Jake gets surrounded by more guards. In response, he pulls out his pistols and a one-liner, and bam, cliffhanger.

If it's the terrorist group, Terezi picks up on Yiffy's scent when they're in a base, and she's saved by the other three kids, where she immediately turns around and beats the crap out of the guards. They become proper friends from there.

The reunion panel still happens and this time it's her reuniting with her loving mother and aunt instead of...y'know.

BONUS: Sadstuck

Harry gets his own “im not a hero” speech after trying and “failing” to be the hero that John was

Vriss is eventually forced to use her mind control powers. It’s either a “Katara using bloodbending" situation, or she forces her friends to leave her behind when they want to stick by her.

Tavros finally witnesses his mother’s true nature when Jake defeats all the guards, but is stabbed from behind by Jane and killed. In the other version, it seems Jane is finally safe and able to come home to her son. Then she’s killed right in front of him.

After the big hug with Jade and Rose, Yiffy pulls away. She smiles, looks around behind them, and asks “Where’s Dad?”

So, please tell me what you think!

[zephyrcove]

“You Didn’t Have to Stay.” (Oh, Bollocks Ch. 4)

read on ao3

The students of Hogwarts were not afraid of a little weather. They were English, goddamnit, and in addition to their allegiance to stereotypes of their nationality, the biggest Quidditch match of the school year was on. Gryffindor v. Slytherin, the age old rivalry, was a game that could never be postponed lest the faculty be met with an uprising. So, despite the sheets of rain falling diagonally from the grey clouded sky and winds so strong Flitwick’s toupe was nearly lost, the intense match had been allowed and was in full swing.

James of course had no care for the inclement weather; having worked to lead his team to a place where they would absolutely obliterate Slytherin, he was not about to let “a light sprinkle” ruin his chance to triumph over the subpar house. ( “James, it’s pouring rain. Do you need your eyes checked again?” Remus had jabbed that morning over breakfast). He soared through the rainfall, dark hair plastered to his forehead in a mix of hard-earned perspiration and crisp spring rain. His no-mist spectacles (a Marauders invention for playing in unsuitable conditions such as today) guarded his eyes and let him scan the field for his players and the quaffle, with McKinnon and the snitch also dancing in the back of his strategic thoughts. The field was full of action, dulled by the sleet and wind, but he shook it out of his mind and focused in on his next play.

Slytherin’s Keeper Avery was distracted by action at the Gryffindor goal hoops, which James paid little attention to as Frank was a phenomenal keeper, and so he took the opportunity to call on his fellow chasers to execute a Parkin’s Pincer. He whistled the command and Emmeline Vance appeared beside him. Fabian Prewett, who had just caught the quaffle, intercepting Jernigan and Watkins pass, also darted past him, giving a confident grin. James gave Vance a nod before they peeled off into the rainy haze to attack from three sides. As they sped into the three pronged play, Farley whipped past him on the right, her green robes fluttering ominously. Avery was suddenly met in the scoring zone by all three Gryffindor chasers and on instinct he guarded James, assuming he had the quaffle, allowing Emmeline to guard Fabian as he chucked the quaffle through the hoop. Cheers erupted from the red and gold stands, but through the fog the majority of Hogwarts failed to see that Avery was still barreling towards James, furious that their play had been successful. James himself, caught up in the rousing success of his chasing team, did not see the hulking Keeper until he was actively blagging his broom. Avery’s hand wrapped around the end of James’ Nimbus and yanked down, throwing the Gryffindor captain from the broom and sending him plummeting towards the ground. As he fell, his head smacked Macmillan’s boot, protruding obviously from the beater’s green robes, and the last thing he heard was Sirius screaming, “Bloody Hell! Blatching AND Blagging, Hooch! Call it!”

Lily pretended very hard to not enjoy Quidditch. She rolled her eyes each time Marlene and Emmeline headed off to practice, scoffed as Potter tossed that ridiculous snitch around (he wasn’t even a Seeker for Merlin’s sake), and in the stands she always attempted an air of disinterest, displaying very minimal knowledge of the game. In truth though, she loved the sport. It reminded her of the intense European football matches she’d gone to with her father as a child: the raging crowds, the intricate passes, the energetic announcer keying everyone else into the action. And in her quest to support Marls and Emmy, who’d made the Gryffindor house team in 3rd year, she’d taken it upon herself to learn all the rules and regulations of the sport. Several times she’d had to bite her tongue as Black discussed a play’s legality, knowing very well the intricacies of the rulebook but not allowing herself to blow her facade of indifference and correct him. Her friends, who were not so oblivious to her vast athletic knowledge having seen her read the entirety of “Quidditch Through the Ages”, would speculate that her attitude toward Quidditch had something to do with their house’s stud of a captain ( “Really Lily, you ought to just bite the bullet and admit that you love it. We know a certain someone who would just about die if he heard you mention the Hawkshead Attacking Formation…” ) She laughed them off and tried very hard not to think of her former adversary’s sculpted upper body shining with post-practice sweat.

She trudged out here in the freezing rain with Remus, Peter, Mary, and Alice, the other non-players of the 7th years, to observe their friends in the sport she secretly loved. However much she loved the sport though, she refused to believe it made any sense to allow a match to be played in such atrocious weather. Alice had to drag her out of Gryffindor tower and Mary was still convincing her of the benefits of going out in the hellish downpour as they found their seats in the Gryffindor bleachers. Although they could hardly see the players through the sideways rain, the action of the game and the energy of the crowd, amped up to support the intense rivalry, were undeniable, and soon she was cracking a smile and following the teams’ plays as the crowds chanted raucously around her.

She watched Prewett intercept the quaffle and join Emmeline in darting toward Potter and the Slytherin goal posts, and couldn’t help but stand and watch in glee and anticipation as they trapped Avery in the confusion of their Pincer play, the Slytherin starting towards Potter allowing Fabian to score with ease. She shot up with the rest of Gryffindor in triumph but her eye was stuck on James and she squinted to see his victorious grin through the rain. She’d always loved sneaking a glance at the players after an especially good play. As the crowds roar the athletes celebrate their own victories; she’d watch Marlene and Emmeline usually meeting the others' eye and signaling their handshake from first year across the field, James pointing to Sirius and smiling his lopsided grin. Today as she eyed Potter’s victory moment, her smile was quickly wiped as Avery shot toward him in an obvious blatching foul. She jumped up on the bench to try and get a better look and was terrified and angry as the Slytherin blagged the end of Potter’s broom and the captain went tumbling off his broom.

“Are you joking me Hooch, blatching AND blagging! Call it goddamnit!”

Her friends turned toward her, shocked at her quidditch foul terminology, but quickly refocused, now not being the time to address her quidditch vocab as they too squinted through the rain to see James hurtling towards the ground. His head cracked on Macmillan’s foot and Lily sprinted from the stands as the match dissolved into chaos.

James was carted off to the Hospital wing by Pomfrey and Hooch, along with disciplinary help from McGonagall, eventually reigned in the crowd and the two teams, between which a brawl had almost broken out in the sky. Slytherin was given two heavy penalties for Avery’s blatching and blagging, and the keeper was benched, their second string keeper Rosier stepping in for the rest of the match. Sirius could be seen arguing fervently with Marlene as he tried to fly down and follow James, Marlene reminding him of James’ coaching strategy and the threat of a forfeit. And so the game continued, eventually leading to a Gryffindor victory. The win of course was soured by the drenching rain, the contempt for Slytherin, and their martyred Captain lying in the hospital wing.

James woke up nearly 11 hours after the match had ended. Disoriented at the murky white moonlight filtering through the window to the Hospital and the splitting pain in his head, he shifts in the bed, glancing lazily around for Madame Pomfrey. It’s not until he finishes his scan of the room and his eyes land on the sleeping redhead at his bedside that he notices the hand softly but firmly gripping his own. He blinked shakily, trying to rid himself of this obvious fever dream, but the girl of his dreams doesn’t fade away with his grogginess. He lightly squeezes her hand and whispers, “L-Lily?”

She stirred and blinked the sleep away, then became alert and leaned in toward him, hand still holding his. “James! Er- you,- I thought- I only mean-” She took a breath, closing her eyes, and finally released his hand only to tuck her long hair behind both ears. “I thought you might be a goner there. Shame, though, you missed your victory party.”

His fingers flexed as he replied, subconsciously missing the feel of her hand in his. “Er- I, Yeah, but do you really think I’d let Devus Avery and Bart Macmillan’s boot be the end of me?”

She chuckled but looked very worn and worried nonetheless. “Lily?”

“Yeah, James?”

“I’m alright y’know?, S’alright.” His right hand reached out for hers and she eyed his tired and beaten face, before releasing a sigh and taking his calloused hand once more.

“Yeah… S’alright.”

“Lily.”

“What, James…” He tightened his grip as his deep eyes searched for her tired, emerald ones.

“You didn’t have to stay. Y’know, I’d have been alright by tomorrow, and the boys would have skipped the party.” Her eyes fell down, a ribbon of scarlet falling back into her face,  and he saw a faint pink tint rise in her freckled cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to stroke her cheek tenderly and tuck that errant lock of hair back behind her ear.

Lily moved slightly closer to him, sitting on the edge of the wooden hospital wing chair and looked up at him, “I told them to go, Marlene had to practically drag Sirius away from you, but they deserve to celebrate. And I was scared to death-” She stopped, the blush stinging her cheeks once more. “Plus, well… what good am I at a Quidditch party, eh?” A feeble laugh followed her attempted joke and she looked down at their still joined hands.

James observed her face carefully, thinking for the millionth time how beautiful and smart and passionate she was, in disbelief that she’d stayed for as long as he’d been out. He reached out tentatively and brushed past her cheek on his way to tuck the stray lock of hair behind her ear. She leaned slightly into his touch and he watched her as she met his gaze.

“Lil.”

His hand rested against her soft skin and she made no move to escape his touch. “Thanks then, for staying. It’s quite nice to, erm, to wake up to seeing you.”

A small smile graced her face as she rolled her eyes half heartedly at this. “I can’t say knowing you aren’t dead is half bad either, James.” Their  hand clasped tightened as they looked fondly on eachother.

–––––––––––

“She said WHAT?” came the exclamation from both James and Sirius as Alice, Remus, Mary, and Pete recounted Lily’s outburst in the stands. James had been quickly let out of the hospital wing after Lily’s visit and now, weeks later, he was sat comfortably on the common room couch, Lily pressed into his side as if she’d been made to fit there.

She rolled her eyes as Remus repeated the fouls and violation rules Lily had spewed upon seeing Avery barrel into James, enjoying the look of shock and offense on the two Marauders’ faces.

“I cannot believe you’ve been holding out on me like this, Red!” Sirius’ outrage continued. “All this time and you never once cared to mention that you’re a walking encyclopedia of Quidditch rules and history?!”

James’ disbelief translated less into mock anger and more into a cheeky grin. “Well now you’ll have to come to practices, games, the whole lot. You can be our advisor.”

“Oh was that not already in the girlfriend contract?” His eyes lit up at the reminder of their new relationship and he pressed a kiss into her hair. Their friends wandered away towards a rousing game of exploding snap but the two of them stayed cozy in their spot on the couch.

“Hey, I love you.”

James smiled into her hair as she said the words he’d dreamed of hearing since his 3rd year. “More than Sirius loves Puddlemere United.”

“God I love it when you talk Quidditch to me,” he said mockingly, shifting to look in her eyes with a playful grin.

“Oh yeah?” She smirked, quirking an eyebrow. “Shall I start listing penalties to get you hot and bothered?”

“If you can list all 700 quidditch fouls I’ll have no choice but to propose,” he told her, his smile turning sincere and his forehead knocking against hers. She pressed a kiss to his lips, lingering for a moment before meeting his eyes and whispering:

“Blurting… bumphing… cobbing…”

[raleighcarrera]

catch up

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

it’s been eight months since the breakup. they have a lot to catch up on.

~6k words, M (18+ only)

songs mentioned are gorgeous | no more sad songs | touch (acoustic)

he’d been wondering who would get around to dropping their album first. from the looks of the current trending topics on twitter, cadence had won. it looked like she’d even chosen to jack his style -- dropping her album in full with no announcement, no promotion, no warning... nothing.

color him impressed.

no more sad songs was number one on trending. just below it was the word touch. related topics: cadence dorian, raleigh carrera. 

he told himself it was just his own narcissism that made him click. that, and morbid curiosity. it’d been so long since he’d last tortured himself, after all. 

a long list of tweets stared innocently back at him. GOD touch is the sexiest song anyone has EVER WRITTEN I’M SCREAMING, said the first one. make it a single queen!!!! you deserve the hottie they will cast for that music video and more!!!!!

he scrolled down. sooooooooo are we going to talk about how touch is obviously about raleigh carrera giving that good dick or nah

his eyebrows shot up. well, now he had to listen to it. 

he pulled up spotify; of course she was on the home page. with just a few taps, the song started to play. an impressive piano melody filled the room. she must have beep practicing. as her voice filtered in, he turned up the volume.

cadence sounded... soft and sad, and, the masses on twitter were right: sexy. god did her breathless, yearning voice sound sexy. despite himself, he could actually feel his face flush as he listened to the words. so won't you take it, i feel like for the first time i am not faking... fingers on my buttons and now you're playing. master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself.

it took everything in him not to be consumed by the memories that were threatening, but the last thing he needed was to fall down that rabbit hole. he’d gone so long without thinking about her, after all. it was almost up to a full two days at this point, before something would inevitably remind him of her and he would spiral again.

the rest of her album stared back at him from his laptop screen. he studied the cover art as her voice filled the empty room. it was a photo of cadence, of course, a wide full-body shot against a brick wall. she looked powerful, in the sharp black outfit she was wearing, her skirt just short enough to make her legs look a few hundred miles long. 

inhaling sharply, raleigh forcibly redirected his gaze to the track list, scanning the rest of the titles. his lips curved up into a smirk as he read them off, one by one. motorcycle boy. hollywood. tattoos and bad news. subtlety was never her strong point.

then again, he mused, as he considered his own journal and the songs inside it -- kaleidoscope dress. ferris wheel. lady liberty. sex at the moda. -- he really wasn’t one to talk. not that his label would ever let him get away with that last one. it was just a working title, anyway. 

he navigated back to twitter and tapped the moment about her album, no more sad songs. the first tweet he saw said omgggg i love the energy of cadence building raleigh up in ‘gorgeous’ and then tearing him down in ‘shout out to my ex’ so much kdhfgksjfhdg HER MIND this album is everything

it looked like he had some listening to do. but first... 

he strolled over to the far wall of his bedroom and pulled off his shirt, sidling up to the floor length mirror by the window to take a selfie. his free hand pushed his hair back from his face, and he stuck his tongue out at his reflection as he snapped the picture. 

it was just trolling, he told himself as he uploaded the photo to his pictagram, already laughing at his own joke while he typed out the caption. it wasn’t like he was trying to get anyone’s attention -- he just couldn’t resist giving the fans and the internet something to talk about.

raleigh smirked at his phone as the photo finished uploading and stared back at him from his feed. photograph with no t-shirt on. well, there was no taking it back now. if cadence was allowed to write about him, he was allowed to enjoy it, right?

five minutes later, his phone rang. it was avery. he took care to pause cadence’s album before he picked up the phone. “helloooooooo?”

“you know you broke the internet, right?” she asked, aprops of a greeting. 

a shit-eating grin appeared on his face. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“you’re such a dick,” she laughed, “you just couldn’t let her have one day, could you? you could congratulate her, you know. she worked really hard on that thing.”

“um, i basically gave her a number one album,” he remarked, his bravado a mask as always. “without me she would’ve had, like, one track on that thing. or she wouldda had to write about you. so you’re welcome, too.”

raleigh pulled his phone away from his face to squint down at his pictagram notifications. stream no more sad songs!! said the last ten comments. omg shout out to my ex is right

“besides, i’m getting trolled. like, a lot. i doubt she cares what i post.”

“i wouldn’t be so sure about that,” avery remarked cryptically. before he had a chance to wonder what that meant, she said, “hey, she’s playing a surprise show tonight at webster hall before the album release party. you should stop by.”

“i think if she wanted me to come to her party she would’ve invited me.” it might’ve been nice to hear from her -- especially given the intimate details about their relationship he was now being forced to listen to, along with millions of other people. 

you’re not being fair, he reminded himself, thinking again of sex at the moda. he hardly intended to give her a heads-up about that one. though he doubted she would care.

not that he cared. she could write about whatever she wanted. she could turn her life into art -- if that was what she wanted. she could tell... whoever, about what had happened between them. about what he’d made her feel.

she never told him, but, whatever. that was fine. that was her prerogative.

“earth to raleigh,” avery said on the line, snapping him out of his thoughts. “i said, she didn’t tell anyone about the party. the album was a secret, yeah? you should at least come to the show. i think your support would mean a lot to her.”

“well, i guess you’ll just have to support her enough for the both of us,” he said, meaner than he felt. raleigh shut his eyes, sighing as he rubbed at his forehead. “sorry. i’m not trying to be an asshole.”

“don’t sweat it.” avery always let him off the hook so easily, “i know it just comes naturally to you. seriously, the show starts at 7. think about it, okay? if you do decide to come, text me when you get there and i’ll let you in the back.”

he put the album back on as soon as they hung up. without a distraction, there was nothing to stop him from looking at cadence’s twitter account. she’d last posted just a few minutes ago:

surprise! i’ll be playing no more sad songs in its entirety tonight at webster hall’s marlin room. doors open at 6 for the first 600 in line. see you there? you never know who might drop by...

fuck it. he turned the volume up on her album and headed towards the shower. he’d avoided her for long enough, and tonight was as good a night for him to get over himself as any. maybe after this he could stop looking over his shoulder at every party he went to, terrified he’d have to see her. 

that didn’t mean that it didn’t feel like a mistake, to get dressed and make his way to the village. it felt like a bad decision every step of the way, even as he ducked around the back of the venue at 7:05 to see avery’s smiling face, holding the backstage door wide open. it was too late to go home, now. 

“took you long enough,” she grinned, squealing as she jumped into his arms. “i almost thought you weren’t going to show.”

“yeah, yeah. did she go on yet?”

avery led him inside, closing the door firmly behind them both. she nodded as they stepped up to the side of the stage. the screams from the crowd were deafening. “she just went out there. i think she’s about to start --”

raleigh heard the strum of a guitar and peeked around to see cadence standing center stage. “this is a really good looking crowd,” she said, grinning when the sound of the cheers rose exponentially. “thanks so much for coming out. are you guys cool if i play some tunes? yeah? okay, then. this first one is about a guy i used to date, it’s called ‘gorgeous.’”

he folded his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall behind them. he was shameless in the way he looked her up and down, staring as she strutted across the stage. he was proud of her -- she’d come a long way since the first time he saw her perform, so long ago. cadence had real stage presence, now -- she’d come into her own. she acted like a woman, sang like a woman, dressed like a woman. she was confident. 

“whiskey on ice, sunset and vine. you’ve ruined my life by not being mine.” an elbow in his side made raleigh tear his eyes from her. he looked over at avery, rubbing at his ribs. “ow. what was that for?”

“you know everyone thinks this one is about you, right?” she asked, smirking. 

“you make me so happy it turns back to sad, there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have.” 

“aren’t they all about me?” raleigh asked, still hiding behind his attitude. avery only rolled her eyes, and eventually the crowd’s screams drowned out anything else they might’ve wanted to say. 

she played a few more songs before finally sitting down at the piano off to the side of the stage. now that she was closer, raleigh could see her better, and he stared as she brushed her hand across her forehead, pushing her hair off her face. she drank deeply from a water bottle and then set it on the piano’s ledge. raleigh was close enough to watch her swallow, but she still didn’t see him. it was probably the stage lights -- a single spotlight illuminated her at the piano as she adjusted the mic to pull it closer to her lips.

“we’re gonna slow it down for just one song,” cadence said, “i hope you don’t mind.” the cheers from the crowd proved that they didn’t. “i saw ya’ll talking about this one on twitter earlier.” he could see her grin perfectly from where he was standing; it was blinding. “i’m glad you like it. even if you don’t post thirst traps to it.”

the crowd went wild. even raleigh barked out a laugh; he hardly thought she had it in her. okay. point one, cadence.

“put your flashlights in the air for this one, okay? you and i and nobody else... feeling feelings i never felt...”

she was beautiful, of course -- always, every day, but never more than in this moment, with her eyes closed and her expression haunted, her hands moving along the piano keys. it probably said something dangerous about his ego that he found her the most stunning when she was singing about him. 

as the last few notes died, he sighed, digging his fingernails into the fabric of his jacket over his arms where they were folded on his chest. suddenly, it felt like he shouldn’t be there. or maybe he was the only one who should be there. either way, he hardly wanted to think about it. 

her moment of silent reflection as the song ended was gone in a flash. he watched her take a breath to steady herself, and then cadence was back in her stage persona, hopping off the piano bench to grab her guitar again. “thank you so much, new york city. you’ve been amazing. i’m so glad i could share this album with you -- it’s one of the most personal things i’ve ever written, and it means so much to me to play it for you all like this.” 

“this is the last song i have for you tonight -- it’s the title track, no more sad songs. it’s the last song i wrote for the album. this song is about trying to get over someone you can’t help but think about by any means necessary. it’s about the point in a breakup where you’re tired of wallowing and you’ll do anything you can to make yourself feel better -- i like to think it’s about the acceptance stage of grief. anyway, it felt right to keep it last... to name the album after it. i’m finally at a place in my life where i can put this chapter behind me. and it took a lot to get there, and i’m so proud of that. so, with that being said...” 

the crowd cheered as she strummed the first few notes. “thank you guys again so fucking much. sing along if you know the words already, okay?”

it was the second time that day he’d heard the song. it still made him feel the same way he’d felt when he first heard it -- angry and surprised and unsettled... and guilty. why hadn’t she ever told him she felt that way? why hadn’t she called him, and more importantly, why had he never called her, again?

his gaze hardened as she stopped at the front of the stage for the bridge. the same single spotlight illuminated her again. 

“uh, why do you have that murdery look?” avery asked from beside him. he said nothing, watching the melody build around cadence as she approached the crowd.

“still got you on my mind, starting to realize... no matter what i do, i will only harm myself tryn’a hurt you, and if i turn the music loud just to drown you out --”

her head tipped back with the powerful crescendo. she looked like an angel under the spotlight, more beautiful than he even knew how to explain. his chest seized painfully. 

abruptly, he turned around and headed back towards the backstage door. he knew he only had moments until the last song ended and cadence rushed backstage, and he needed to get out of there before that happened.

“raleigh!” avery called after him, but he didn’t stop, throwing open the back door and stepping out onto the sidewalk... immediately into a crowd of waiting fans and paparazzi.

a cacophony of screams started from the street. “ohmygod, it’s raleigh carrera!”

fuck. venue security glared at him as he shoved sunglasses on -- fuck the fact that it was nine o’clock at night -- and rushed off down the sidewalk. so much for getting in and out before cadence saw him. there’d be pictures of his exit all over social media in moments. paparazzi called after him as he rushed to the intersection, eyes scanning the street desperately for a working cab.

he stuck his hand out just as one with its lights on slid to a stop at the corner, jumping inside and slamming the door closed. camera flashes still shone behind his eyes even as he shoved the palms of his hands into them, drawing in a deep breath. sighing shakily, he met the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “88th and park. please.”

once he was alone in his apartment he felt like he wanted to put his fist through a wall. the urge to destroy something, anything was too strong -- because that was what he was supposed to do, wasn’t it? that’s what raleigh carrera would do.

she deserved so much better than him. the last thing she needed was to see him at her show and get sucked back into his bullshit. he paced around his living room, convincing himself he’d done the right thing. she’d moved on, after all -- she was happy, thriving. she didn’t need him around messing up her life. she’d practically said so herself. 

his phone vibrated where he’d dumped it on the coffee table, sliding onto the carpeted floor. raleigh couldn’t think of anyone he wanted to talk to, but he bent down and picked it up anyway.

he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the caller id. cadence dorian. tongue out emoji. winking emoji. music note. 

“hello?”

“oh, so your phone isn’t down a well somewhere. okay, just checking. good to know.”

she hung up. 

he glared down at the phone in his hand. what the fuck? raleigh called her back before he even knew what he was doing.

“what?” she answered, though she sounded annoyed. like... really annoyed. 

“what is your problem?” he demanded.

“my problem?” she laughed. he could barely hear her over the commotion on the other end of the line -- someone was calling her name repeatedly in a way that sounded urgent -- and then a door slammed, and there was quiet. “my problem, okay. i don’t have a problem. i’m not the one out here subtweeting and sneaking in and out of your show without calling, am i?”

“no, you’re just writing and releasing an entire sixteen-song album about me and all the ways i ruined your life without calling,” he snapped, his patience finally wearing thin enough to crumble. “don’t you think it might’ve been nice for you to give me a heads-up?”

“oh, please,” cadence scoffed, and he could feel that she was getting angry now, too. it felt good, in an awful sort of way. at least it was something. “i should have to clear it with you every time i write a song?”

“not a heads-up about the album,” he grit out, the fingers of his free hand flexing with the urge to throw something, “a heads-up about the way you fucking felt. you never say a goddamn word about any of that to me and i have to find out about it for the first time with -- everyone else? that’s really fucking special, cadence. that means a lot to me.”

there was silence on the other end of the line, giving him a moment to try to calm himself down. cadence was only ever quiet when she’d been surprised, meaning she wasn’t expecting him to say that. but she was certainly silent, then; if he couldn’t still hear her breathing raggedly, he might’ve assumed that she hung up on him again.

finally, she spoke, her voice small and unsure. “raleigh...”

but he wasn’t done fighting with her yet. “what’s the matter? you never thought that it might actually hurt my feelings? i guess that’s on me for giving a shit.”

“raleigh,” cadence said again, more insistently this time, “i didn’t know how to --”

“how to what, cadence? not break up with me? not ignore me for eight months afterwards? not pretend like it didn’t mean anything to you? it’s not that difficult.”

“well, obviously it was too difficult for you to do, too. you didn’t call me, either. so i’m supposed to believe -- what, exactly? that you missed me? that’s convincing, when you’re never out without a model on your arm.” 

she sounded hurt. why did she sound hurt? she was the one who’d stomped on his heart, she was the one who’d wanted this. 

“get over yourself,” he bit out, his hand curling into a fist at his side. he was never going to get his security deposit back after what he was about to do to his penthouse. “you knew i was in love with you and you didn’t care. which is fine. you don’t have to... just own it. stop acting like i did something to you.”

suddenly, the commotion on the other end of the line was back. “i have to go,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. 

he hung up without saying goodbye, throwing his phone onto the couch. okay. that was fine. everything was fine.

except that he couldn’t possibly stand to be in his apartment for another moment -- not without doing something stupid. 

he grabbed his keys and his phone and left, slamming the door behind him. his fingers drummed restlessly on his thighs as he rode the elevator down to the lobby. there were paparazzi waiting outside the front door of his building -- raleigh could see them through the glass as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. with a grimace, he headed for the back door.

there was already a car waiting for him. “let’s go to kismet,” he directed, rapidly firing off text messages to anyone he knew who might be available to distract him. 

within minutes, he was inside the club at a vip table. there was a bottle of vodka sitting in a bucket of ice at the center of the booth, calling out to him. he lifted it straight to his lips, drinking as much as he could in one go without coughing. she’d always used to joke about his self-destructive tendencies. if only she could see him now.

“hey, raleigh.” belle tamblyn stood before him, smiling in the low light of the club. she must’ve just gotten back from paris fashion week. two of her friends had already sat down at the booth, talking among themselves. 

he leaned back into the booth with a charming smile. “hey, belle. i knew you missed me.”

she laughed, taking his words as an invitation to sit down in his lap. he didn’t push her off, wrapping an arm around her narrow shoulders. she was taller and thinner than cadence in a way that wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but wasn’t exactly welcome, either. you’re never out without a model on your arm.

“so,” she started, looking down at him from up close, “what’ve you --”

he leaned up and kissed her, sliding a hand into her hair. her lips parted in surprise, sticky with lip gloss. raleigh bit her bottom lip and she sighed breathlessly, and that was -- good. that was almost... close enough.

his free hand slid over her backside, pulling her in closer. she was breathing hard when she pulled away, her face flushed.

raleigh laughed, pushing his fingertips under the hem of her dress. she reached down and swatted playfully at his chest.

“you’re an asshole,” she said primly, but she was rubbing her hand over the muscles in his chest. “do you want to get out of here?”

the last thing he wanted was to bring her back to his apartment, or to be there at all. “i don’t think i can wait that long,” he said charmingly, “bathroom?”

her nose scrunched up as she considered it, staring down at him. then, she said, “fine,” and slid up off his lap. he grinned, grabbing her hand and tugging her off toward the back of the club. 

it was a single person bathroom, and blessedly empty when they arrived. no one paid them any attention as he pulled her inside and flipped the lock. 

raleigh lifted her onto the sink and leaned in to kiss her again. she moaned as he pushed her legs apart and stepped between them, sliding his hands up her thighs.

this was fine. this was what he wanted.

so why couldn’t he force himself to do what he knew he was supposed to? his hands didn’t seem to want to move from where he’d anchored them on her legs, his lips kissing her methodically but not doing much else.

she wants to have sex with you! his brain screamed at him, she is a supermodel. a supermodel who wants to have sex with you. 

impatiently, her hands slid to the waistband of his jeans. he didn’t stop her as she pulled the zipper down and slipped her hand under the waistband of his briefs. 

it’s not a big deal. you’ve done this a million times. never after an argument like that with cadence, though... only when she was busy pretending he didn’t exist... 

the bass of the music playing in the club vibrated through the closed door. the song sounded painfully familiar -- he strained to make out what it was...

of course it was a dance remix of ‘gorgeous.’ why wouldn’t it be?

panting, he pulled his mouth off of belle’s, tipping their foreheads together. “hey,” he started hoarsely, licking his lips as he glanced down towards where her hand was wrapped around him, “i’m sorry, but i don’t... have anything. i don’t think we should...”

have unprotected sex in a nightclub bathroom. her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she weighed her options. on any other night, that might have actually been flattering, but tonight...

pounding on the bathroom door made their minds up for them. he stepped back, adjusting himself in his jeans. “come on.”

he helped her down off the sink and opened the door, ready to lead her back out into the club. the line of people waiting to use the bathroom stared open-mouthed at them both as they walked off toward the booth. raleigh grinned at them as he walked past -- that was what he was supposed to do, right?

belle’s friends barely arched an eyebrow at her as they sat down again. immediately, he started pouring drinks and passing them out -- anything to be as drunk as possible before the song ended.

by the time he stumbled home, alone, it was late -- later than he’d wanted to be out. he used the front door -- not because he wanted any paparazzi to get photos of him going home alone or anything, but because he felt like it -- and waited until he was in the elevator to sigh frustratedly, decidedly not checking his phone. he knew there was no way she’d texted him.

cadence was sitting on the floor outside of his apartment door when he stepped out into the hallway.

he stared at her like she was a hallucination, lifting one hand to his eyes to rub at them. maybe he had more to drink than he’d thought. she looked up at him, still dressed in what she must’ve worn to her album release party.

he felt like he was going to throw up. god, that would be uncool.

“hi,” she said quietly, from the floor. wordlessly, he stepped closer to her and held out his hand. she took it, letting him pull her up. “can i talk to you?”

that wasn’t going to be easy, considering he had absolutely no idea what to say, but raleigh nodded, unlocking his front door and motioning for her to step inside.

he didn’t turn the lights on, letting the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminate the space. the lights from the city and the glow of the moon made cadence look almost ethereal as she slowly wandered over towards the far wall, hesitating for a moment before kicking her high-heeled shoes off. despite himself, his lips twitched up into a smile as he watched her.

“want a drink?” he asked, because he certainly did.

she nodded, and he moved to the bar cart to pour them both a half-full glass of vodka. he dropped an ice cube into his and poured orange juice over hers. 

raleigh forced his feet to join her at the windows, silently holding her glass out to her. she took it with a mumble of thanks, lifting it to her lips. her eyes were trained on the view. what the fuck was she doing here?

the silence stretched between them. finally, he said, “congratulations on the album. it’s really good.”

that seemed to snap her out of it. she snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “you listened to it?”

he nodded. no point in lying about it, now. “i’m a narcissist,” he joked, “it’s what i do.”

she laughed. raleigh stuffed his free hand into his pocket so that he wouldn’t reach out for her. god, he’d missed her laugh. 

he drained what was left in his glass in one go. “what’re you doing here?”

cadence was still staring out at the city. “i wanted to talk to you.”

“and yet, here you are. not talking.”

“i didn’t get that far when i planned this in my head,” she admitted, in an annoyingly endearing way. god damnit.

“how far did you get?”

she turned to look at him, then, leaning her shoulder against the window. “i thought maybe i would just kiss you when you got here and that would say everything i wanted to say. but then i chickened out.”

it felt like she’d just elbowed him in the stomach. “that doesn’t sound like you.”

“the kissing? i don’t know, i thought about it kind of a lot...”

he swallowed hard. “the chickening out.”

“oh.” she nodded, looking away. raleigh watched her stare down at the glass in her hands. “i guess i just felt like i already messed up so much. i didn’t want to... do the wrong thing again.”

raleigh couldn’t quite decide if he was too drunk for this conversation or not drunk enough. “how was your party?”

“it was fine. i think the last one i had -- for the odyssey -- was better.”

there was a night he didn’t want to relive. “look,” he sighed finally, turning back towards the windows and the city skyline, “i didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. if you’re only here because you think i’m upset... you don’t have to be. i’ll be fine.”

he could see her shifting out of his peripheral vision. she seemed to be considering what she wanted to say. finally, she spoke up. “that’s not why i’m here.” he turned towards her and watched as her shoulders squared. “i’m here because i missed you. a lot. and i wanted to apologize, for what happened between us... for shutting you out. for not telling you how i felt -- that i was in love with you, too. for letting you go.”

raleigh’s grip tightened on his glass so that he wouldn’t drop it on the floor. he stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time. 

cadence drew in a deep breath and continued, “getting over you was the hardest thing i ever had to do. and when i saw the pictures of you leaving the show tonight i realized... i failed miserably at it. i can’t get over you. i couldn’t. i won’t.”

he had to be imagining this, right? he was drunk and asleep in his limo, he had to be. he was dreaming.

but she felt very, very real when she reached out and twined her fingers in the fabric of his shirt.

“please say something,” she begged. she was undeniable.

“cadence...” he sighed, “you know how i feel.”

she nodded, once. “i do, but i want to hear you say it.”

“i want you to be my fucking girlfriend,” he admitted immediately, his voice hoarse. now that he’d given in, his free hand reached out and cupped her cheek. “for real. all the time. in front of everyone. i want you to move in, i never want us to go another day without talking. i don’t want anyone else to touch you. ever again.”

her lips parted. he couldn’t stop his thumb from pressing into her invitingly full bottom lip, watching in fascination as her eyelids fluttered. “raleigh,” she breathed, beautifully enough to do his head in. 

he stepped forward swiftly, pressing her back against the windows, and kissed her. she moaned, scrambling to set her glass on the side table next to her. he knew her hands were free when they shoved into his hair. 

fuck, if he hadn’t been wanting this for so long. his lips broke off of her to trail kisses across her jaw, down towards her neck. he couldn’t stop his fingers from tugging at her dress insistently. “do you want that?” he demanded. raleigh felt her nod against him. his teeth scraped across her pulse point. “say it.”

“raleigh!” she exclaimed. it was the most amazing sound in the world. his hips pushed forward insistently, grinding between her thighs. the force of it pushed her back into the windows. “i want it, i want you. i want all of it -- everything.”

the urgency to fuck her through the window was balancing precariously against his desire to do things right -- to give her what she deserved. with a huff, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, walking them both off towards his bedroom.

she laughed again as he dumped her on the mattress, hard enough to make her bounce. raleigh grinned back at her as he whipped his shirt off of his head, tossing it to the floor. she was scrambling up the mattress, and he chased her towards the headboard, kneeling on top of her when she finally laid back.

he crowded her in close for another kiss, his hands everywhere at once. she whined into his lips, kissing him so urgently, like they didn’t have all the time in the world, now. “i missed you,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders desperately.

“i missed you too, beautiful,” he returned, pushing her dress up her thighs, “now lie back and let me make you feel good.”

his head was spinning by the time they’d finished, and not because of the drinks he’d had. cadence was tucked up under his arm, her head pillowed on his chest. she was still catching her breath as she dragged her fingertips along the tattoo spanning the expanse of his ribs.

the sun was starting to come up outside, filtering light into his bedroom. he stared at her face, illuminated by the dawning daylight. “you know, if anyone here is gorgeous, it’s you.”

“oh my god,” she mumbled, pressing her face into his skin, “you’re never going to let this go, are you?”

he smirked up at the ceiling as he pulled her in closer. “would you say it makes you so mad?”

“i’m going home,” she threatened, pinching his side. he laughed, squirming away from her hand. “this is over. you ruined it.”

“well, what if i want to come along?”

“raleigh,” she groaned finally, kicking him under the covers, “stop it.”

he snickered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “what, you’re allowed to write about me, but i’m not allowed to enjoy it?”

“please,” she sighed, settling in against his chest again, “like you don’t write about me.”

“i never said that,” he hummed, already imagining the things her face would do when she finally got to listen to his album, if he ever finished it. “i’m really hoping the label doesn’t make me change the name of sex at the moda.”

“okay, you did not write a song called ‘sex at the moda.’ tell me you didn’t.”

“i’d hate to lie.”

she lifted her head to look at him, her face flushing. “will you play it for me?”

he eyed the guitar in the corner of his bedroom. like he could ever say no to her. still...

“maybe later,” he grinned, rolling over to pin her beneath him, the sheets tangling around their legs. “i can think of a better use of our time. we have a lot to catch up on.”

her arms wound around his neck. “tell me about it.”

[toonytoodles]

Here's another round of "these would be head canons except it's canon" or "random ideas I had and wrote down and I'm posting them to keep track of all my thoughts"

-

Sofia always gets a little nervous when walking up or down stairs, she's terrified to fall, unfortunately her room is upstairs, and no one knows of this fear

Pond has submechanaphobia (the fear of underwater objects)

Ponds younger sibling Brook has "nicknames" for her and her friends.

"Pon," "Avey," "Memma," "Fia," "Cememine," and the calls both the twins "Anby-n-Anby"

Pond can size shift in a way, being able to be small enough to fit in a glass, or be as big as a lake, she can change her size shape and form under the right conditions, but prefers not to

Andie doesn't swim- it's not that she doesn't know how, she just doesn't like getting wet, and she doesn't like swimsuits

Avery gets bored and thinks about random stuff a lot

The twins have done that cat nose boop to their friends, they were all touched by the sentiment, except for Avery who had to have it explained to her, then she happy-cried about it

Andie and Andy snuggle like actual cats do, often purring as they sleep

Andie is the older and more assertive twin

Every time Andie gets deadnamed Emma looms over the person with an angry look and just says "Her name is Andie." In a dead serious tone. It doesn't happen as often anymore, but I like to think after they run in terror, Emma checks to see if Andie is okay, then needs to be reassured that she's not actually that scary

Sometimes the others can't understand Avery due to her accent, to everyone else it's kinda funny, (though Emma does try REALLY hard to understand), but Avery gets kinda mad, especially if it's important or if she's already upset. Shes especially hard to understand if she's upset/panicking, it kind of sounds like gibberish at that point. That's usually when she gets pancaked by Em.

When Emma first met Sofia she PANICKED cause she had no idea what a dullahan was. Emma just started screaming and panicking, until Clementine and Avery calmed her down and slowly explained that she was fine, that she's supposed to have her head off. Emma didn't completely get it at first, but she's slowly adjusted to it and she understands it now, but then she was so scared. She's really really embarrassed by it, and feels bad about it, and Sofia was scared of her too, so it was just really awkward at first. They're cool now, but at first they wanted to run away from each other upon seeing the other

Avery doesn't like jewelry- it's too much sensory wise, she doesn't like the feel of rings, bracelets, or necklaces, and she can't wear earrings, they won't pierce through her scales

Avery absent mindedly lays on her stomach and is always wearing something that covers her stomach- she doesn't realize it, but it's a survival instinct, as her stomach is one of her biggest weak points. She's almost physically incapable of lying on her back, she can only do it when she's in a safe calm environment where she feels she can't be hurt. But again, this all happens subconsciously, she doesn't notice that she's doing it. Her other huge weak point is her tail, it's important to her balance, and it's directly connected to her spine, so should anything happen to her tail, it could be life or death. This one she is aware of, but there are other reasons she doesn't like people touching her tail in addition to the danger it puts her in. It's uncomfortable for her, it's hers and it's weird to her if you touch it. It's uncomfortable on a couple of levels, it feels uncomfortable and is literally uncomfortable, leave her tail alone. The only exception to this is Emma, and only because it can't always be helped, she might touch her tail some when she sits on her hand. But Emma tries to touch is as little as possible, as she knows how bad it bothers her. (also Avery can lay on her back in Emma's pocket)

Sapphire has a Scottish accent- that's where Avery got it from

Emma and Avery do eventually become a couple, they're just anxious and beat around the bush about it for a while. They're too nervous to tell each other, they're worried about rejection, ruining their friendship, and being good enough for the other. Once they're dating it doesn't change much, except they do call hanging out with each other dates and occasionally do couple things (and Avery does kiss her at one point, which Emma gets all flustered about)

Andie and Andy are identical twins

Andies enchanted flute can implant suggestions into people's minds, and she has the ability to talk to/understand feral animals, this is all she can do because she doesn't want to put in the effort to learning more, and 90% of the time she forgets she can do either

They all have a favorite ice cream flavor!

Avery - Moon berry ice cream with chunks of hot pepper and hot fudge on top

Emma - Chocolate with fudge chunks and chocolate syrup on top

Sofia - Vanilla

Clementine - Coffee flavored ice cream with chocolate syrup and marshmallows

Andie - Neapolitan, preferably in a sundae

Andy - Strawberry with strawberry syrup and when possible, strawberries on top

Andie is secretly scared of balloons

Emma's shoes are slip ons

Andie gets vocal training to sound more feminine, Andy pays for the classes out of his allowance

Emma's house has small platforms and walkways for beans. One of these elevated walk ways leads into Emma's room, where there's a small cubby hole that's a make shift room for beans. Emma set it up for Avery to give her some space when she comes over, she has a big family, and everyone in the family is big, and they all want Averys attention- it can be a bit much. When Avery is in the small room she's officially off limits, with Emma being close by to ward off her siblings. Emma worries about her small friends safety, and sanity, and tries to make accommodations for her, both with her size and her needs.

Averys stims/ticks are: Hand flapping, tail wagging, she has a pressure stim that helps her calm down, her feet claws dig at the ground absent mindedly, her leg bounces when she sits, she pulls on her hair, ocassionally grunts and/or whines, will scream at the top of her lungs when she's pushed past her limit, and rarely, but sometimes she randomly twitches/flinches, and hates when people point it out, like, she's not spasming on purpose, you don't have to be a jerk about it... Emma doesn't stand for it either, so people will shut up about it quickly. Avery doesn't have anything diagnosed, but it's very possible that she has adhd, a sensory processing disorder, an anxiety disorder, and/or is somewhere on the spectrum. I'm not going to officially diagnose her with anything, most of these things are based off myself, and I feel that they also apply to her. These seem very in character, Avery is impulsive, can't sit still, does things without thinking/ not realizing she's doing it, she can't stand certain feelings/sensations/ textures/ tastes, etc., she panics kind of easily, and it escalates quickly, she has several stims/ticks that she uses for basically every emotion, she likes to enclose herself in comfortable small spaces, she has certain people she goes to for comfort, this is all canon already, I've discussed most of it before, I just thought I'd try to list it all out for my own reference

In Averys particular subspecies, there's no way to tell what the sex of the draconic is before it hatches. Her parents debated on a while about various male/female names, but they didn't want to keep referring to the egg as "the egg," or "the baby," as they didn't just think of the egg as an object, so they decided wanted on a gender neutral name for the egg so it could work for either, eventually deciding on Avery

Emma has anxiety about accidentally hurting her small friends, sometimes causing nightmares and makes her want to distance herself from them

Emma doesn't like being upside down (she learned this when she accidentally shrunk herself down to borrower size and Avery accidentally picked her up upside down in a panic)

After buying new clothes, Sofia often sets her head on her bed then does a small fashion show to see how it looks on her- she finds it's one of the few benefits of being a dullahan

Clementine LOVES mind puzzles and being able to problem solve, anything that poses a challenge excites her

Sofia often carries her pet snake on her shoulders, wearing her ball python as a boa

Avery loves sour candy, Emma prefers chocolate, Clementine likes m&ms and small candies that can be eaten while studying, also she considers grass and raisins a candy, something that is a debate amongst her friends, Sofia likes gummies, Andie likes candy bars, and Andy likes hard candies, Pond doesn't eat, so she can't eat candy, but would absolutely love chocolate covered almonds if she could taste them

Pond can do impressions- she often likes to mimic Avery and Andie because she finds accents funny, for some reason? She doesn't really know what it is about them, she just finds them hilarious

Emma is determined to find a way to hug Pond, she will hug water, she'll figure it out someday...

Out of all their friends, Emma only trusts herself to help Avery when she really needs it. It's not that she doesn't trust anyone else, it's just that, well, she doesn't think her friends can handle it. Emma's little brother Aaron has a lot of the same struggles as Avery, so Emma's a little more knowledgeable and understanding than the others. Not to say that the others aren't understanding, but they're often confused or flustered or even scared of Averys behavior sometimes, whereas Emma sees her struggling and attempts to help. The others can't do much most of the time, whereas Emma can help her out by giving her a small squish to help her decompress, put her in her pocket when she needs to be alone, she's scared, upset, tired, etc.,and knows how to talk to her to help her calm down, and she's good at figuring out what it is that she needs/wants when she gets too elevated and is panicking and/or shutting down

[savvyblunders]

Personal Post: Imposter Syndrome, Reading Traditional Books, and thoughts about my own writing

{Just rambles regarding books, fanfiction and some of my thoughts therein.}

It’s been a terribly long time since I read any published books--aside from those written by fellow fanfiction authors. It has reached the point that I find them entirely too cringey. The plots are tame, the characters stiff, the language rote. I especially have a hard time caring if there is a supposed ‘romance’ involved. Forget about het romances, they’re so formulaic that they leave me cold. It isn’t that I have no interest in the portrayal of a relationship between a woman and man, it’s that by and large they might as well have been churned off of a factory production line. 

Part of my objection is to the tired old tropes and gender roles which authors (and readers) don’t seem to realize they’re not only falling prey to, but encouraging with their work. The world doesn’t have to be turned on its head to be interesting, but you shouldn’t know from the first few scenes between characters how it will play out--and further more, not care.

I did read a rather good psychological mystery a few days ago, however. I think perhaps it was successful in part because it was so different from the usual run of stories that people publish, but also because there wasn’t a romance shoe-horned into the storyline. The narrator wasn’t particularly sympathetic, but nor were they entirely unredeemed. I don’t want to give too much away, but it explored the themes of bullying, memory, redemption and revenge, with an enjoyable twist that I didn’t see coming--I was successfully led astray by red herrings, which isn’t always the case when I’m reading mysteries. The book, should anyone be interested, was Girl Gone Mad by Avery Bishop.

{I keep on rambling after the break ;)}

I also read another which was such a stinker I deleted it from my Kindle history and couldn’t tell you the title or author. This beauty had a somewhat interesting premise of a woman who wakes from a six month coma with full amnesia and throughout the book has to struggle with not remembering anything and depending on her husband, children and neighbors for the details of her life. Frustratingly, she finds parts of her personality and tastes have changed--at least as far as they all tell her. She begins to doubt that she is who they say--an issue further compounded when certain facets of her life pre-coma are revealed. Then when the ending arrives, there is a twist and a reveal which could have been pretty neat, only it arrived at the end of such a rote story, with such clunky storytelling and unimaginative language that I kind of didn’t care. It was clear, I might add, that the female protagonist was written by a man. Although blessedly he didn’t go into raptures over her perky breasts, long hair, or other physical attributes [insert vomiting]

My reading resulted in a two-fold feeling. One, traditionally published books are by and large crap. A few months ago I tried reading a book from a famous author whom I used to be quite a fan of. It was part of a series with which I used to be enamored. I settled in, expecting a very enjoyable read. After slogging through three chapters I gave it up. The writing was generic, the characters shallow and the ‘bad guy’ was so sketchily written as to be bewildering, not mysterious. 

That book left me frustrated and annoyed. But it also revealed something to me which I had somewhat accepted and understood prior to that, but not entirely absorbed. Just because a book is traditionally published doesn’t mean it’s any good. Just because an author is well known--or even on the best seller list--doesn’t mean they can write. There are more places to find interesting, funny, heartbreaking, sexy, fun, amazingly written, daring and wonderful stories than at a bookstore or through Kindle. 

The second part of my two-fold feeling was that while, as a writer, I may have much room to grow, I still have valuable skills to offer. My four years of writing fanfiction have honed my talent, refined my style, and influenced my voice, perspective and ability. A good beta, or editor, is invaluable. While I used to write solo and not show it to anyone, simply edit and post, I’ve come to understand the inherent value of feedback. It can be a tricky road, as you might find yourself influenced too much by a reader into trying to suit their tastes rather than your own, but a good beta (eternal thanks to @paialovespie & @hoomhum)--that is to say, a great beta, will not only see the nuts and bolts which might need tightening, but will offer insights which blow your story from ordinary to inspired. The same goes for a ‘personal cheerleader’ (the highest of praise to @mottlemoth) or someone who reminds you at your dark times that you are capable of far more than you can conceive of in that moment. Forget nasty comments online, most of us are our own worst enemies--after all, we know our weakest spots and can zero in on them mercilessly.

Even without a beta, I believe in myself as a writer enough these days (most days) to hope that one day, with hard work, skill, great editing, and some luck, I too could be published. Not a NYT best seller, perhaps, but then, I’m not entirely certain I’d like that. I don’t say this out of any sort of pretentiousness, but because, in essence, these days, I want to write the kind of things that appeal to a more niche audience. I’d like to point with pride at my small book, nestled there on a bookshelf, or available with one click of a button, as something that helps give a voice to a community which has, and still continues to be, marginalized, ignored, fetishized and pandered to, in equal measure. Perhaps it would be for the best if what I wrote wasn’t palatable to the greater reading public.

Of course, those days when I’m full of zest and confidence don’t always last. Like any creator, I fall prey to Imposter Syndrome. Lord, I can’t believe that a time used to exist when I didn’t know what that was! I knew the feeling (oh, how I did), but had no clue that a term existed to encapsulate it. The concept that I wasn’t alone in having days (weeks, months, years) of being cast into doubt that I had anything worth saying--a voice worth listening to--isn’t a new one, but to find out that I’m not alone was unutterably comforting. 

Since, like so many people, I’ve been suffering from a lack of ambition and ability to focus during this global pandemic, I haven’t written much at all, that inner voice rang loud and clear. I’m a fraud, a fake. Any ability I had was used up, clearly as shallow as a mud puddle if a little adversity was enough to dry it out. The struggle to get myself past that was, and is, one that swings from good to bad almost day by day. I had to finally give myself permission to be sad, scared, worried, tired, uninspired. Eventually I decided it was enough that I could find comfort and solace in other’s writing. And oh, how I have! Even though days and days would pass when I couldn’t even muster the interest to read, other times I would consume fanfiction fervently, feverishly. 

And there was so much out there! Adventure, sex, romance, comedy, crack, fluff, hurt/comfort. It seems funny that I can rail against the ‘formulaic’ writing of published books and then turn to ‘tags’ and ‘tropes’ for comfort. But I think the difference lies in the heart that is written into those fanfiction stories. Most of us, while being somewhat influenced by friends, mutuals and fans into writing for a hungry public, are, by and large, writing for ourselves. The old tried and true ‘write what you know’ advice seemed empty and meaningless to me for years. If we only ever write what we know, then how do sci-fi, fantasy, adventure, etc., get written? My brain went to the obvious and ignored the heart of the matter--it isn’t so much what you ‘know’ as writing what you need. What makes you passionate. Even if you’ve never been on a space ship, or been part of a polyamorous, platonic communal family group, if you write it with that yearning and spirit in your heart, it will reach out to someone else.

Fanfiction, at it’s core, is self-comfort.

In my estimation, looking at traditionally published books, it seems that what most of them lack is that heart. The writers aren’t writing because they need the story, or because they are compelled to tell it. It isn’t that they had a hell of a good time writing it, or that they made themselves laugh while doing so. They had a publishing deal to fulfil, a publisher to make happy, a reading public who had certain expectations. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, but if it’s your only motivation...then the writing suffers the neglect and a percerptive reader will note the difference. 

By and large, the fandom, the ship, even the trope, aren’t what captivates me most. I’m a pretty eclectic reader. I enjoy a good story more than I do the fact that it is a particular pairing. The draw is how well it is written, any chances the author took, the indulgence into style, formatting, etc. that they allowed themselves. So why should published books be any different? I’ve heard (non-fandom) people dismiss fanfiction as niche. Perhaps it is. But it is also broad, vast, uncharted territory where we’re all having a lot of fun and enjoying the hell out of ourselves.

Maybe those published authors need to spend a little time with us. 

[skinks]

HELLO. DO YOU HAVE ANY SPARE DILFWORTH/MAGGIE HEADCANONS 🥺 (love your writing more than life btw)

HELLO, thank you so much! Oh boy it’s difficult to come up with more stuff for characters you’re really only extrapolating a couple of pages about, but I like a challenge so here are some to build on the other big Maggie/Dilfworth post I made:

- so after the Airplane Incident they’re so engrossed in talking at the baggage claim about everything from music to shitty first jobs that Went misses his bag going around the carousel three times. In his defence Maggie’s laugh is a breathless, staccato sound like a xylophone of breezes and she runs one hand over the back of her head to grip the ends of her own dark hair every time she does, so who can blame him for trying to be his absolute funniest in between grinning like a man who’s won the lottery. Also in his defence, Maggie doesn’t leave after she’s collected hers (they both go to grab it from the carousel at the same time and kinda stare at each other, then at their touching hands. Went licks his lips a couple times and says “Sorry, don’t uh. Don’t misunderstand, I was only trying to steal it,” which makes her laugh again) and Maggie doesn’t leave because she’s busy hinting she’d like him to come visit her on campus some time, maybe next weekend? They exchange their landlines and she says “See you then, Doctor Dentist,” because there’s something about his nonthreatening calmness that makes her feel very bold in trying to ruffle it up.

- their first date is to the movies, because it’s 1971 and what else are you gonna do

- Went has the best poker face she’s ever seen, and she’d already been teasing him about being a dentist so when he asks her what snacks she’d like, she replies with a long list of the sugariest kinds they have. But he only whistles low and raises his eyebrows, sauntering off to the concession stand before she can reel him back. They eat all of it between them, and Went spends the whole movie muttering scathing put-downs about the poor choices the characters keep making and it’s the first time Maggie hasn’t ever cared about being shushed by the people in front of her

- also also also he picked her up in his car (and she’d also teased him about how she’s sure he could only drive a convertible bc he’s so tall and leggy that anything else would leave his knees up by his ears, but it’s not a convertible. It does have a sun-roof though, and after the movie they go driving, as Young People do in 1971 I guess and he’s like “Sorry the roof doesn’t fold down, I know you’d look great doing the whole Audrey Hepburn thing,” and Maggie just eyeballs him as she slides the sun-roof back. Then she’s standing on the bench seat and whooping, sticking her torso out of the roof like it’s a carnival ride and Went’s like 💕😬💕 as he holds her steady with one arm (over her dress, it’s the first date) for her dear, dear life

- I love the idea that Maggie likes sci-fi, for some reason. She loves Star Trek TOS, loves the music, wants to try and obtain a theremin for her thesis project. The first gift Went ever gives her is a signed copy of The Left Hand of Darkness when she takes him to an Ursula LeGuin talk at her college, and Maggie kisses the daylights out of him against a tree right there in the quad

- Went likes fishing and baseball and photography and fuckin... comedy records and he definitely got bullied at school for being a skinny nerd. Doesn’t have too many friends given that he’s moved cities and is generally kinda quiet, but Maggie’s friends like him. More importantly, Maggie likes him a lot, likes the endless antelope stretch of his legs when he props them up on any surface available, the lean lines around his mouth, likes how the veins on the backs of his hands form warm diamonds around the indents of his knuckles, likes that when she says “oh damn, is it raining?” rhetorically in the car at the first few drops, he rolls his window down and sticks his hand out into the wet and says “yes, Maggie, it’s raining. Wipers or no wipers, what’ll it be?” She likes to be the person he trusts enough to be silly and wry and sincere with. She likes to buy him records based purely on the cover art alone, she likes introducing him to classical music and she likes to drive his car so he can look at the maps and stick his head out the roof, and she likes that the wind makes him look like a cartoon blown up with dynamite, because he’s somehow always just in need of a haircut, and she is so, so scared he will be ensnared by the draft now that he’s left academia, as it has ensnared so many of her other friends.

- She makes fun of it, but she likes his name, “I like that Tozier has a z in it, of all things,” she says once. “I don’t know, it’s unusual. I never heard of a Tozier before.” And Went says, “Last of my kind. Like Tigger, in fact. You’re lucky you ever caught me in the wild,” as he very studiously and ineptly investigates her electric keyboard. She calls him Went most of the time, Legs when she’s particularly hot for him, but they do also have a lot of Wentworthy/Unwentworthy jokes.

- the first time they have sex is because they’re six dates deep and Went has yet to hear her sing.

- they’re lying top to toe in Went’s bed while they’re both studying (Went might be practicing dentistry now but he still has paperwork and journals to read) and he’s tapping her crossed ankle along to something she’s humming. “What’s that song? Maggie?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you sing it for me?”

“Oh, no,” she says, covering her face with her book. “No, it’s just some rock song, ignore me. I’m being disruptive to the study environment.”

Went waggles his eyebrows, examining the whole bare sweep of her legs. “That’s for sure. C’mon, you’re minoring in vocal studies, aren’t I going to hear you eventually?”

“Nope,” Maggie grins, and enjoys how warm his hand feels cupping the sleek of her calf muscle. “I’m shy.”

“The Maggie Avery I know isn’t shy, unless I’ve been wooing an impostor for the last nine weeks.”

She laughs and flutters inside, like her whole body is filled with whirling pillowfight feathers at the thought of being wooed, being courted, being allowed to exist as an interesting person and not just a skirt to be chased. At the fact that he knows how long it’s been and that he counts it in weeks, because even though they telephone a bunch, they can still only see each other at the weekends. Yeah, Carole King said it best. He makes her feel like a natural woman, alright.

“Wooing me.” She sets her book aside. “That’s what you’ve been up to?”

“Yes,” he nods, sitting up to mirror her, cross-legged. “Wooing.”

“Wentwooing,” she says, biting her lip. These games always prick up the hairs on the back of her neck.

“Damn straight,” he says, and oh, those dishy lines are breaking in lean waves around his smiling mouth. She’s a total lost cause for them. “Wooing was one of my very first Scout badges, actually.”

“Oh, so you’ve had practice?” She leans away in faux-disinterest, and her breathing picks up from somewhere deep in her body as he sways forward into the gap, like he’s charmed. She’s very aware of her heartbeat in odd places, pinking her bare heels pressed to the sheets under her knees, loud in the scoop of her clavicle. “I’m not the first to be subjected to a little Wentwooing, then, huh.”

“Not the first, no,” he allows, mild and reasonable as ever. No wonder he did well in medical school. She knows she’s not the first girlfriend, of course, just as he knows about her last ex and the others, and that’s the wonderful thing about him. He doesn’t act like other twenty-two year old boys she knows, he’s a grownup about it all. “But... I’d really dig it if you were the last. Maggie.”

She can’t stop smiling at the way he says it. Casual, contemplative, the look of a man who has cast his line and is happy to wait. It’s belied by the sound of him compulsively cracking his knuckles and the bones in his long bare feet. They’d both thrown on comfortable clothes after coming in from the rainstorm, and Maggie never knew it was possible to feel so at ease alone in a man’s room, a man’s apartment, a man’s spare boxers and faded varsity rowing tee the only things between that same man and her pretty underwear.

“I’d dig that too, Legs,” she says, and tucks her hair behind her ear to kiss him. He untucks it again and kisses her back with a heated mmph, touching her hip and her hair at once. Very light touches, but there’s something about them that makes her feel like he’s got her wrapped up completely. She swirls her arms around the back of his neck and deepens the kiss, as deep as she can manage with the way their knees are obstructive, and at the dragging quiet click of spit, Maggie finds she wouldn’t mind if he touched her firm and wanting all over, sometime soon.

She pulls back to see him flushed, his glasses kinda screwy. He makes a low sound, a sort of cross between a sigh of satisfaction and a groan of regret that their mouths aren’t still moving together. Both of his hands fall to her crossed legs, and he patters fingertips to her skin.

“I got that badge in Boy Scouts too,” he says breathlessly, after a second or five.

“No wonder you’re so good at it,” Maggie says, and raises three fingers in a salute. “Lots of practice around the campfire, hm?”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe,” he chortles, saluting her back. “It’s a testament to your feminine wiles I’m even interested, what with my restricted training.” He gestures at her breasts. “We never covered those.”

“Liar, you had them pretty well covered last week,” Maggie teases, her inner thighs burning as she shifts at the memory, the back row of the Aladdin Theater, her tongue in his mouth and his big, gentle hands up her shirt.

“Earned my badge.”

“Well and truly.”

“We should get to work on uncovering them, then,” Went replies, tugging softly at the hem of his shirt she’s wearing, but his eyes don’t stray from her face.

“Wentworth!” She shoves at his hand, laughing again. She has a paper on syncopation due on Friday and a performance to prep for the end-of-semester recital, but she couldn’t care less right now. Lord, she’s so happy. What if it’s love, she thinks giddily, what if I love him, and he loves me. What then?

He dodges her play-slaps to take off his glasses because he only needs them for reading, and it’s just another layer falling away from between them. He’s not Doctor Tozier, he’s not that fucking geek, in the sullen-drunk words of her project partner Jack at a party last month, he’s just... Went. Just a man, as she is a woman. He’s cute and he’s acerbically funny and he makes her feel like they’re partners in some kind of crime, even though neither of them have so much as a speeding ticket. Maggie comes to a decision.

“Alright. I’ll sing the song for you,” she says, climbing off the bed.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, I actually—oh, here it is.” She rummages in her bookbag and produces the 7” single from its cardboard sleeve. “I bought it on Tuesday and forgot all about it, I was going to show you earlier. Such a dunce.”

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” Went says, shuffling back on his crossed legs to sit against the headboard. He looks genuinely eager. “She’s finally singing for me, don’t knock her confidence. Though, I guess we’re not getting any more studying done. Duncehood looms for the both of us.”

Maggie straightens up from the record player and unclips her hair until it falls in a dark torrent around her face. She shakes it out, feeling the strength of her voice build in her chest, feeling like she’s on fire from the glare of a stage spotlight. Getting into the mindset of a song is an important part of performance. “Would you rather study? We can study if you like.”

“No, no,” Went says evenly. His face is pink again and his eyes are very dark, watching her. “I think I’d much rather do this.”

So Maggie sings. The record cranks to a crescendo on the choruses like a runaway train and Maggie loses herself in it, closing her eyes and dancing. She’s an elegant dancer to classical music and an awkward one to rock and roll. Went is even worse, the pair of them clunking their bodies together at parties like a game of marbles because it’s funny that way, it’s funnier with two. But she tries not to feel silly, because she knows her voice is good. People tell her so. She knows it’s so, and she’s proud of her very own instrument nestled in the nave of her throat, and she wonders why it had been such a nerve-wracking prospect to let Went hear her sing. Perhaps it’s because she holds it so dear. She doesn’t know when his opinion became so important to her, but it is. The sound thunders up easily from her chest, controlled and so fluid she can almost visualize it leaving her lips like a stream, so controlled she can let the control a little loose whenever she wants to wail along with Marc Bolan, like the only rockstar in an oversized preppy shirt, get it on, bang a gong, get it on.

The record scratches to a close but she doesn’t feel finished, there’s still breath left in her yet. She segues easily into one of Went’s horribly cutting and clever comedy records, so she has an excuse for her face burning. It’s not because she can’t open her eyes and see his reaction, it’s because she’s singing about smut, of course. Every brush of the hems of his borrowed shorts against the ticklish backs of her legs, is felt. Her hair is thick and warm and her scalp is starting to sweat with all her uninhibited bouncing. Eventually she gives up and collapses to the bed, giggling and breathless. She buries her face into the covers feeling more ridiculous than she normally does in the vicinity of his generally impassive nature. He’s stable, somehow without being boring. It keeps her on her toes at least, that damnable poker face; she actually takes great delight in the way she finds herself coming further and further out of her shell, just to try and call his bluff.

“Gosh, I hope your neighbors like T-Rex,” she mumbles. She’s crouched with her knees and hands huddled under her, waiting for her fearsome blush to subside. Waiting for him to say something. She’s aware of his quiet presence at the headboard, just as she is so suddenly aware of the way his soft tee is riding up her hunched form, exposing her lower back to the fresh night air. “I’m—I should send them all an apology note for disturbing their Saturday evenings.”

“You should be charging them for the privilege,” Went croaks.

Maggie looks up at him, sharply. He stares back, still cross-legged with his hands stuffed down into his lap and a dazed expression on his face. She kneels towards him, feeling the residual magic of the music spark powerful deep through her body, between her legs. “You think I’ll pass vocal performance?”

“Jesus Christ, Maggie,” he says, unfolding his endless legs so she can straddle them. His hands are restless against her hips, moved from where they’d been hiding the thick line in his shorts. “And all this time I thought you’d been hiding the terrible secret that you’re actually a bad singer.”

She laughs against his neck. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, just awful. I figured you must be a banshee or something.”

“You did not, don’t joke!”

“I never joke,” he grins. He kisses her harder than before, restless hands squeezing at her ribcage, her thighs, just below the hemlines. Maggie presses her hips forward and grips fiercely at his ropy upper arms, gasping. “I’m deadly serious, that was—you’re a knockout at everything, it’s hardly fair.”

“Went.”

“Mags, I’m obliged to tell you I have one hell of a crush on you.”

“Went.”

“I can’t believe you’re my girlfriend,” he says, and Maggie’s stomach flips at the rare note of bemused, painful sincerity in his voice.

“Went, you can uncover them now,” she says, and shimmery heat floods between her thighs as he ruts upwards, abruptly.

“Sorry,” he pants, “what?”

“Take my shirt off, please. And I have a crush on you too, you dunce.”

He does as she asks of him and says, “Jesus Christ,” again, and a whole lot of other curse words and sweet things and silly nonsense that makes her laugh more than she’s ever laughed doing this with someone, and afterwards his hair looks the way it does when it’s his turn to stick his head out of the sun-roof.

He rolls off to collapse beside her. As soon as they catch their breath he says, “I’m gonna bring you breakfast in bed. Right now.”

“It’s 11pm!” Maggie wheezes, watching him stagger naked from the bedroom. The sight of his narrow waist flaring up into broad, bony shoulders is unbearable, now that she knows how it all feels between her legs and rippling under her hands. It makes her voracious for more. She aches wonderfully in all the right places, just like a good callisthenic stretch should.

It was quite a stretch, she thinks, and shivers, turning her head to breathe into the sweaty tangle of her own loose hair spilled across the pillow.

“Eleven is technically almost morning, isn’t it,” he calls back, clattering in the kitchen. “Plus you’ll need the energy, because we’re doing that again immediately. If you want to, of course,” he adds hastily.

“Of course,” Maggie snorts. Her cheeks ache too, from happiness. “We’ve got badges to earn.”

- anyway

- Her mom likes him too because he’s a dentist, Margaret, but her dad thinks he’s a hippie with a fake diploma because he still has sideburns lmfao. Went’s parents like Maggie, but it’s a lot to do with how she tries so hard to make them like her. She’s like, shaking by the end of day 1 of her first meeting with them like “I just don’t ever want you to have to choose,” and Went (absentmindedly fiddling with an old toy robot, they’re staying in his childhood bedroom) is like “Don’t worry, I’d choose you any time. I mean, I’d have to kill them but I’m sure they’d understand,” and Maggie’s like “I’m serious!” and Went turns to her and says, “So am I, Mags,” and then wraps all his long stick insect limbs around her refusing to let go until she’s laughing again

- He’s also very neat, he does all his own ironing so his work tunics are just right. More than once Maggie and her two roommates come back to the apartment during weekends to find him standing in socks and boxers and ironing piles and piles of everyone’s laundry, and he refuses to believe Maggie that this is weird. She thinks back to her old boyfriends who could barely flush a toilet and thinks hm, maybe it’s not so weird

- for the first few years of living together after they get married they can’t choose sides of the bed. Like, it changes all the time. “This is intimate anarchy,” Maggie says, after their tenth night in a row of switching. “I’m sure this is what the Summer of Love was all about.”

“Oh, I thought it was about cunnilingus,” Went says brightly, slotting a bookmark into his copy of Jaws and turning off the side lamp. “My mistake. Goodnight, love.”

“Wait!”

- Went comes into the delivery room after Richie’s born, looking more shaken than Maggie herself, ashen and stressed. “I could hear you screaming from out there,” he whispers, kissing her forehead and jerking his thumb back over his shoulder, bloodshot eyes locked on the swaddled bundle on her chest. “Darling. Oh, Maggie.”

“We’re alright now,” she says, hoarse. “I was just letting him know however loud he is, he gets it from his mother.”

“Him?” Went bleats, his eyes so wide. He still only needs his glasses for reading. “He? It’s a boy—we have a—”

“A son, yes,” Maggie says, and wipes at her cheeks. She’s had quite enough fluids on her face for one night, thank you. “Here, take him away from me before I lose my temper with him again.”

She nearly starts crying again when she sees how tiny the baby—Richard, that’s right, they’d decided on Richard for a boy—how tiny he looks in Went’s big, capable hands. They manage not to wake him in the transfer and Wentworth cradles him against his collar for a moment, looking lost. Then he seems to come back to himself, shooting Maggie one of his big, crinkly grins (and God, she’s still a lost cause) as he addresses the consequence of their actions.

“Did you do this?” Went whispers into the blue folds of blanket, pointing one free finger at Maggie. “Look what you’ve done to my wife. How dare you. She looks terrible.”

“Shut up,” Maggie laughs, as quietly as she can.

“She looks terrible and more wonderful than ever,” Went continues in the baby’s ear. “Is this your doing? We’ll make a good team, I think. Between the two of us she doesn’t stand a chance, by thirty-five she’ll be too beautiful to look at and then she might get some peace and quiet.”

“You’re delirious from the thin atmosphere, Legs,” she says. “Give him back, if you drop him from up there he’s done for.”

“I won’t drop him,” Went insists, “you had him for nine months, let me have a turn.” He holds onto Richard while she sleeps, but not before she grabs at his arm and sobs thank you for him, Went, thank you, and Went cries a little too and says what are you thanking me for, I’d get a participation trophy at most, which makes her laugh and say, if anyone deserves a trophy for their participation technique it’s you, and then she falls asleep before she hears his reply.

- they play so much rock and roll for Richie, Maggie makes up her own songs for him and sings to him all the time. Maggie only had older sisters, and Went was an only child so neither of them have very much experience with babies, but Maggie’s friendships with Andrea Uris and Sharon Denbrough from the neighborhood and from book club help a lot, they all seem to have wound up having their firsts in the space of a few months. She values language too much to baby talk Richie, and Went would be clueless as to how to begin, so pretty often she finds him deep in conversation about politics or baseball with Richie babbling in his high chair.

- as I said before, I hc that Maggie speaks maybe French and Italian, and Went finds it incredibly sexy. He can’t reply, of course, he just babbles along in Richie’s ridiculous Voices, it’s basically the Swedish Chef but French or Italian. He calls her Marguerite if it’s French, and Margarita in Italian (“That’s Spanish!” Maggie hoots, stroking his hair back at both temples where it’s frosting to silver already, and clasping her hands around the back of his head. “What do margaritas have to do with Italy?”

“Not Margarita,” Went says. He traces a line between all the pretty moles on her chest, sweeping down between her breasts to the one just beside her navel, the soft little rise of belly that sits in the cup of her iliac crest. That spot always flicks her hips forward with ticklish heat, and if they’re not careful then Richie might end up with a baby sibling Maggie’s not quite ready for yet. “Margherita, like the pizza. You’re cheesy, sweetheart.”)

- both of them smoked but Maggie gave it up when she got pregnant, and now Went doesn’t smoke inside the house. He of course gives it up for good after he gets cancer of the larynx in his late 50s when Richie is 30, which makes Richie quit too

- they love their son and just want him to be HAPPY even if they’re sometimes misguided about what would make him happy, but hey, so is Richie

[odyssey-system]

Enchanted: Part of Your World #1

"Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?"

Fiona Seville was on the phone with her father Dave as she sat on the couch in her apartment. Her frizzy hair was a slight mess as she adjusted her legs. "Y-Yeah, of course, Dad."

She could hear him sigh on the other end of the phone, along with a cough. "I was supposed to go to a benefit masquerade ball tomorrow night. The one that I go to every year."

"Right! The one for state arts programs?"

"That's right. Well... I can't make it this year. I ended up with bronchitis and your brothers have to take care of me at home."

Fiona frowned. "I'm sorry, Dad..."

"It's alright. I was just wondering, since you were closer, could you make the donation in my place at the ball?"

She bit her lip. She was not typically a person to deal with large crowds, but for the only parent in her life, she'd take a leap of faith. "O-Okay but if I make the donation for you, can you transfer me replacement money after?"

"Of course, sweetheart. You have my word."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After a few phone calls with her agent, Ethan Blake, Fiona was able to donate money, book a ride and acquire an outfit for the night. She'd spent the past few days looking around for pop culture tidbits she might have missed over the past week or so. She practiced talking to people in the mirror, and she arranged to get out an hour early from work that day.

So now, here she was, sitting in the front seat of a Dryve car in a stunning silver ballgown made by one of Ethan's friends, Addison Sinclair. The driver wasn't much for conversation, preferring to listen to the radio, but she didn't mind.

Eventually, the car pulled up to the designated drop-off point for the masquerade in front of the Sheridan Hotel in downtown Los Angeles, a line of paparazzi along the velvet roped red carpet. Fiona put on her mask and took a deep breath.

Showtime.

Fiona made her way out into the stream of flashing lights, walking toward the start of the red carpet. She only recognized one face in the line of paparazzi: Ana de Luca of Trend Magazine, one of her favorites. She put on her sweetest smile as she heard murmurs about how no one knew who she was, and she prepared for the barrage of questions with a nervous glimmer in her eyes.

Surprisingly, none of them approached her but she was asked to pose for pictures, to which she obliged.

What mattered more to her was getting inside after speaking to both of the hotel's front door bouncers and the bellhop, who helped her find the ballroom in which most of the event was held.

The ballroom was massive, much more extravagant and intimidating than Fiona could have ever imagined. It felt like she was walking around in a fish tank full of people.

It terrified her.

"This place is pretty cool, isn't it?" A young man in his early twenties asked her confidently. "Definitely better than my prom."

Fiona smiled, the conversation alleviating some of her nerves. "Yeah, it's beautiful in here."

"Is this your first time going to this?"

"Yeah."

The man gave an understanding smile. "Me too. I'm Chadley."

"I'm Fiona." She fixed her hair and her mask, shifting her remaining nerves into movement.

Chadley smiled. "Do you want to go get something to drink?"

Fiona nodded back at him. "I'd like that."

The two made their way over to a table with refreshments, Chadley immediately going over to the flutes of champagne. "Bubbly?"

"No thanks." She tried looking for other drinks but only ended up finding water on the table. She grabbed a glass and a reusable straw kit, following Chadley.

"How'd you get an invite to this party? Did you have to pass some initiation or something?"

Fiona laughed. "No. Why, did you?"

"Yeah, kind of! Mr. Groot said that I needed to start sharing my brain cells with my kind and jump into a canyon with no braces for my teeth." He said it with nonchalance, making Fiona recoil a little. His eyes widened. "No no, it's okay! My agent Ethan told me that it was his way of saying I needed to venture out of my comfort zone or something.

She sighed in relief. "This Groot guy might need to find a better way to come across with what he's saying correctly... But at least you have Ethan. He's my agent too."

"Oh sweet! He always has the best suits."

Fiona could think of a few other outstanding qualities about Ethan that would rank higher, but she did have to give Chadley that. "What do you do?"

"I'm a film actor. What about you?"

"Oh! Um..." Fiona's cheeks tinged pink slightly. "I'm a barista but I do have this character acting gig. I do birthday parties and stuff."

"That's cool! Do you like it?"

"Yeah! It's fun to make characters on your own that you can help people with, you know?"

"Hell yeah! So are you working during this party then?"

She shook her head. "No, my dad's a composer. He comes here every year, but he got sick and couldn't make it this time. He wanted me to make a donation this year for him, and I'd do anything for my dad."

"I get you. I'm gonna go talk to more people but-" He took a napkin and wrote down a set of digits. "Here's my cell phone number if you need something. I've gone to some stuff like this, I can help you."

Fiona smiled warmly. "You're so sweet, Chadley! I appreciate this, thank you."

"No worries, Fiona! Hope I see you around." He went off into another portion of the ballroom.

Afte watching him go and making sure he was alright, Fiona went to go sit next to the stage. It was sparsely used at the moment, a few musicians tuning and doing mic checks. She took a few minutes to browse her Pictagram feed idly, pausing on a post by the Wilshere siblings when she noticed something familiar about the backdrop.

"Excuse me." A tall male with shoulder-length hair and a beard said as he approached, gentle and calm with his security badge visible on his belt. "I need you to not block the stairs, ma'am."

Fiona blushed and glanced at the stairs. "Sorry, sir..."

"It's okay. Some of the acts are just ready to sound check."

"Right, of course." She followed him out of the way before spotting a pair of blondes approaching the stage: the Wilshere twins.

Fiona was in awe.

The male of the pair nodded to the security guard. "Thank you, Damien." He turned to Fiona. "Sorry for making you find a new wallflower spot. We just don't want anyone to get hurt, especially a charming young thing like you."

"Arthur! Don't tease the poor girl!" His sister strode over and gave a wide, warm smile. "Sorry about him." She took Fiona's hands. "You seem overwhelmed, love. Are you alright?"

Starstruck but true to Avery's observation, Fiona bit her lip. "I'm not used to navigating parties like this."

"I understand. These things can make a girl feel so small in a world so big, especially for your first time at one of these parties." She squeezes her hands. "There's a few different rooms next to the ballroom being rented out for the ball as well. Those might help you find a smaller group of people around here."

"Avery? Your turn for sound check," her brother called out.

The blonde sighed. "I have to go. But you've got this. I believe in you."

Fiona watched Avery go onto the stage, still anxious but more hopeful than before. She gave both her and Arthur a wave before walking around the ball a bit more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After half an hour of roaming all of the other rooms, Fiona found herself in one that resembled a casino. It was a bit smaller than the other rooms, which helped her anxiety, but it felt very much like a boys' club in there with the amount of older men. Several men stared at her as she walked in, appraising her like jewelry. Or worse. She did her best to not give them any ideas or pay them any mind.

Unsatisfied playing games with any of the older men, she made her way over to the bar that was for the most part unoccupied. She sat on the other end of the bar, ordering a coffee instead of alcohol because of her need to have a clear head to survive the night.

When her coffee arrived, the waitress also placed a notebook in front of her, a pen tied to the spiral. She opened it cautiously, seeing neat handwriting on the first page.

Are you alright?

Fiona looked up from her spot and noticed the only other patron at the bar: a younger male but still considerably older than her, nursing a glass of scotch in his hand. His eyes met hers, and he smiled genuinely back at her. She pointed to him and then down at the notebook. He nodded in response. She quickly wrote a response after grabbing a pen from her purse:

Yeah. My first time at one of these events. It's a little scary.

She slid the notebook over to him so the waitress didn't have to do it. She watched him write, moving his hand in a gentle and elegant fashion, before he slid it back to her.

I understand. I didn't want to scare you and add to that. Do you want to sit with me?

Fiona took a moment to collect her thoughts before sliding her purse onto her shoulder. She collected the notebook and her coffee, walking over to sit next to him. "Sorry. I-I just figured if my answer was yes, I didn't want to be redundant.

He nodded in reply. "That's alright. I'm Thomas, by the way."

She smiled. "I'm Fiona."

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight

Thomas crossed his legs, right over left. "So what got you to come out here tonight, Fiona?"

"I-I came for my dad. He normally comes down here but he's sick this year."

"What's your last name?"

"Seville."

The name seemed to click in Thomas's head. "Ah yes, I believe I'm somewhat familiar. Dave's his name, right?"

"Y-Yeah."

"I remember him. We've met in passing before, I believe. The most I know is that he's a composer. Are you in the music industry as well?"

I'll get you out on the floor Shimmering beautiful And when I break, it's in a million pieces

Fiona shook her head. "Not exactly. I'm a barista most days, but I also do children's birthdays and other stuff like that as a costume actor. Sometimes it involves singing, but it's not the bread and butter of what I do."

Thomas smiled. "Impressive. You definitely achieve the Disney princess aesthetic tonight."

She blushed. "Thank you. You look nice too."

Hush, when no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

The two could hear the bartender turn on the television, and a picture of Thomas without a mask on flashed across the screen as part of a television tabloid, along with his full name.

Mortified, Thomas partly covered his face with his hand.

Fiona looked at him sympathetically, reaching for his empty hand. "Is everything okay?"

Hush, I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

"I... I have a problem with fangirls sometimes." He held her hand gently. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "D-Don't be." She looked around. "In all fairness, half of the people here look like you because of the masks and everything."

He uncovered his face. "You're not even a little starstruck at me?"

Fiona smiled and shook her head again. "I-I mean, I *do* know who you are now. But... I mostly look at Trend and music industry magazines, so I don't get your exposure a lot."

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I can change everything About me to fit in

Thomas took another sip of his scotch, contemplating her words. "Well... What is your impression of me, then?"

You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I-I think you seem like a hard worker. You have ambitions that aren't always in the realm of reality, but you try. And you make every effort to keep your private life and your work separate. You think art is a second life in and of itself."

Thomas sat silent for a moment, stunned. "And how did you manage to decipher all of that?"

Fiona's smile hinted at a hidden laughter. "You don't seem like you've sold your soul to any towel rack of a tabloid, Mr. Hunt."

He knew the game she was playing now. She seemed to warm up to him quickly, something that could hurt them both if they weren't careful.

But the angle she was going for now? Two could play at that game.

Hush, when no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

"You'd think correctly, Ms. Seville," he said with a regal and teasing side-smirk. "However, seems it's my turn to pick your brain."

Fiona flushed, almost retreating from the teasing as her fingers on one hand started playing with the edges of her frizzy hair. "G-Go ahead."

Thomas was gentle as he shifted on the barstool, taking a full look at her. "You are definitely in touch with your inner child in a way I don't see often around here. Not necessarily the innocence, but you tap into that with your curiosity, your sincerity, your kindness."

Fiona shied away slightly at the very accurate read of her.

He let her have a moment to recover before continuing to speak. "I would love to have more time to figure you out fully, to get to know you, person to person... if you'll have me."

Hush, I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

She looked up at him with soft silver-blue eyes, searching herself for the answer as she contemplated his request. "O-Okay. Can some of that time be without a crowd...?"

He smiled. "I know just the place." He took her by the hand and led her out to an open balcony, pulling her into a slow dance as the door closed after them when they got outside. He led her, one arm around her waist and the other holding her head protectively to his chest.

And they called off the circus Burn the disco down When they sent home the horses And the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me

She pulled away from the close embrace, moving to hold his hands again. "I-I..."

Thomas smiled, a patient ease to his posture. "Yes, Fiona?"

"Can we have... more than just tonight to know each other?"

He held her cheek. "I would love nothing more."

And I'm still a believer, but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me

In an instant, her lips tilted to reach his.

And nothing else that night mattered for a weightless, ethereal, eternal moment.

Because I'm a mirrorball I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight